<meta name='google-adsense-platform-account' content='ca-host-pub-1556223355139109'/> <meta name='google-adsense-platform-domain' content='blogspot.com'/> <!-- --><style type="text/css">@import url(https://www.blogger.com/static/v1/v-css/navbar/3334278262-classic.css); div.b-mobile {display:none;} </style> </head> <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d12582298\x26blogName\x3dStave+It+Off:+1,+2,+3.+And+Now+You+Ca...\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dTAN\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://johnbai3030.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://johnbai3030.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4116571392451208349', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Monday, March 06, 2006

Newsflash: Bummerman Hates Oscars!


"Freakin' Crash... Maybe I can still watch the Razzies instead."


Still pinioned to the couch and picking tortilla chips out of his navel, Bummerman moans and bellows, "Why... Why... Why did you make me watch the Oscars? You know how much ass they suck. You know how they make me drink until I'm near blind with rage. God damn you!"

Apparently we should have been watching the Razzies (the official "worst of the year" awards) which were nearly a sweep for the Jenny McCarthy sex-comedy vehicle Dirty Love. It took worst film, worst screenplay, worst director, worst actress, and Carmen Electra got a nomination for worst supporting actress. I immediately put it on my Netflix queue because I can't wait to see if I can write a review comparing it favorably to Crash.

But Crash's undeserved Best Picture award wasn't even the worst moment of the evening. Yeah, it made me puke up a bit of my banana-flavored grass jelly drink into the back of my throat... but the most revolting moment of the evening had to be Reese Witherspoon's acceptance speech. Here's a rewrite I could have stomached, "Oh my god, I'm so unworthy of this award... Thank you everyone, but Felicity Huffman clearly should have won. So I'm ... um... just going to shut my ignorant bumpkin piehole and get off the stage. Oh, and Dolly got robbed!"

Labels:

posted by John @ 8:50 PM   7 comments

7 Comments:

At 3/06/2006 10:31:00 PM, Blogger Walaka said...

Welcome back!

 
At 3/07/2006 12:13:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I Heart Bummerman.

Soapy

 
At 3/07/2006 04:29:00 AM, Blogger wheylona said...

Ah Bummerman, I was thinking of you and your pain as soon as I heard that Crash had won. My condolences. It reminded me of my first big Oscar pain when stupid Shakespeare in Love won for "Best" Picture. Puh-lease!

 
At 3/07/2006 12:12:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I thought we watched the Oscars BECAUSE they sucked....mission accomplished.

 
At 3/07/2006 03:31:00 PM, Blogger Ned said...

Does Bummerman's need to write about self in 3rd person indicate some deep-rooted psychological something or other.

Love to hate the Oscars! Love the dresses! Love the red carpet! Love the cheesy opening "entertainment"!

Hnbrufuz: German dark beer

 
At 3/07/2006 05:51:00 PM, Blogger John said...

Bummerman has many psychological maladies... it's true. The one you point out, Ned, is just the tip of the iceberg.

 
At 3/08/2006 12:02:00 AM, Blogger Scotty Walsh said...

Sweet, dude. I hated Crash a bit, too. I was married at the time and my wife was running around with some armored car company wanna be cop, who reccommended that she watch that movie. So, of course, she wanted, too. She didn't want to watch The Sting, or The Maltese Falcon or Reservoir Dogs or even Wallace and Grommit or any films that I advised, but she couldn't wait to see that one. And I hated it. And she loved it. And I told her that it sucked and she was just being stupid. Now don't you see what's happening? They made her right. It's a conspiracy, Bummerman, the Oscar Panel and my Ex-Wife are in this shit together. But I see what's going on.

signed
Bummerboy

 

Post a Comment

<< Home