Howdy-dowdy-diddle-deedle-dum! Heavens! Every year, the sodomites of Hollywood double-dare Jesus to send another calamity their way (earthquake, wildfire, mudslide, Miley Cyrus) by gathering to worship at the feet of a golden calf named Oscar. And so here we are, huddled in the glow of my Zenith Color television set, cozily ensconced in my glorious mauve and teal House-Beautiful barcalouncer. My impish kitty-cat Mr. Sillypants is purring blissfully at my bosom, a pitcher of Singapore Slings within reach, watching the sinful spectacle of that annual Jewish-homosexual communist love-in known as the Academy Awards.
As you know, Aunt Betsy rides atop the crest of all things technological. I've got gizmos and doodads galore. And tonight, I shall fire up this new-fangled Blackberry thing-a-ma-bob to twitter my gorgeous Oscar thoughts across the dark ether of the inter-whatzit.
8:15 PM: Dear Barbara Walters: The Jonas Brothers are appalled by your drunken flirtations and obscene insinuations. Keep it in your pants, dear.
8:35 PM: For God's sake! Tim Gunn was handsy-er with Mr. Pitt than Philip Seymour Hoffman was with the little negro boy in that horrific movie about Cathy-licks.
8:45 PM: Huge Actman, whoever he is, is alarmingly effeminate. Or European. Tomayto-tomahto.
9:02 PM: This Penelope Cruz person talks with a suspicious accent. Have we checked her papers? Here we have yet another Dominizuelorican who's slithered into this country to take our awards.
9:13 PM: If one chooses to pen a screenplay about a dairy product, be sure to fill it with homos. You'll win an Oscar and appease Beelzebub.
9:30 PM: A golden phallus was just bestowed on "Wall-e," a cartoon that extols the joys of robot-on-robot hippity-dippity. It's a love letter to Lucifer masquerading as a kiddie flick, hell-bent on destroying the sanctity of non-robot marriage.
9:45 PM: Huge Actman is prancing about caterwauling about movie musicals. It's making Aunt Betsy feel a tad giddy. I think I may have to spit up. BRB.
10:03 PM: A dead Australian who played a homosexual cowboy was just awarded for his portrayal of a demon clown in a movie about a Satan worshiper who flits about in tights. ARMAGEDDON!!
10:08 PM: They're starting to hand out statuettes for things like special effects and sound editing. Aunt Betsy's off to take a bath. Back in a half hour! xox
10:45 PM: Yours truly just made the nauseating discovery that the neighboring Ass-sex Republic (the faux-Tudor bungalow salaciously abutting our very own Aunt-Betsy-stan), is hosting an Oscar party (read: homosexual orgy). I shall miss the interminable "Folks That Croaked" montage whilst I place a ten-gallon tub of pork lard on my backyard catapult and send it sailing through their plate glass window. BRB.
11:00 PM: A man who makes movies about zombies and spaceships just won a statue for directing a film about poor people getting rich. Perhaps it's time he branched out, as Aunt Betsy disapproves of horror movies and science fiction.
11:20 PM: Aunt Betsy has no idea who Kate Winslet is. She comes across as British (read: uppity and snotty). I don't like her.
11:30 PM: Sean Penn won an award for pretending to be a homosexual. I rather think we should award homosexuals who pretend to be straight. Oh, that's right, we already do, with a senate seat or the priesthood!
11:40 PM: "Slumdog Millionaire" just won the biggie. It's a movie about skinny people with suspicious complexions who win contests and everyone pretends to be happy about it. That's right, it's about our negro President.
11:50 PM: Aunt Betsy has brushed her teeth and placed Mr. Sillypants in the dishwasher, and is therefore ready to withdraw to her master suite. I'm off to dream that I'm advising Jesus how to smite Hollywood in epic retaliation for tonight's heretical display of hedonism. Sleep tight!
Mickey Rourke sez: "I went to the Oscars and all I got was this lousy subscription to the COWA feed."