LEEEEEEEEEEEEEO! Reality TV blah Best Documentary blee. And here come the nominees marched up on stage again. (Funny, the way I was told it would happen, it would be the other way around--the famous people on stage and the "nobodies" stuck in the audience. This is awkward, but still better than that scenario.) And the Oscar goes to Born into Brothels, ensuring that my pool entry doesn't completely tank.
Here's Kirsten and Orlando (so. doing. it). Best Editing, it looks like. Kirsten's hair looks better now--maybe I've had time to get used to it. I'm thinking The Aviator will take this, but I think it'll also be an indicator as to whether there's going to be something of a sweep tonight... Aaaaand it goes to Thelma Schoonmaker. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE CONVINCED ME TO PLAY MILLION DOLLAR BABY IN THE POOL. I HATE ALL OF YOU. (Not y'all. THEM. THE OSCAR "EXPERTS.")
Welcome the lovable! Greasy! Lank! Mike Myers! He quotes French philosophers, and just when I'm starting to hate him, he adds, completely deadpan, "Personally, I like the part where he falls down and farts in the mud." And here's Counting Crows to perform a Beyonce-free... holy God, what is that on Adam Duritz's head? It's like a poodle mated with a pineapple.
Ah, sweet commercials.