Monday, February 26, 2007

Oscar Night! 3:30 a.m.

I've just perked up a great deal: Clive Owen is presenting Best Foreign Language Film.

An upset! "Pan's Labrynith" doesn't win. (Listen, readers, I'm pretty sure I'm misspelling Labrynith, but do you think I care at 3:30 a.m.??)

Winner: "Blah, blah, blah." Look! There's Clive Owen standing behind him, looking as cool as all get out while he listens. (And having been within ONE FOOT of him, I can say with authority he is-- I must be tired, I'm at a loss for words.)

"It's men like that who make me realize I could never be a lesbian," Anne says.

And then, wouldn't you know it-- a lesbian shows up! Our host, Ellen. I guess Clive isn't doing anything for her. Oh, god, and she's doing soem interpretive dance now too. Please, save us. It's late, I'm tired, and that just isn't as funny as it should be.

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