It’s heady times in Hollywood as everyone prepares for the 83rd Academy Awards on February 27, hosted by jack-of-all-creative-trades James Franco and Anne “The Teeth” Hathaway. At least, that’s what I imagine. Ah, probably most people don’t give a shit. But still… it gives all of us something to think about other than Flavor Flav opening a chicken restaurant in Iowa or the state of the union or Mini Kiss.

I confess to be the kind of person who sits through the entire awards show, minus the musical numbers. I can never stand the musical numbers, which are predictably Randy Newman, a 1980s or 90s female star like Vanessa Williams, Cher or Susanna Hoffs from the Bangles or something more unpredictable, like the year Three 6 Mafia performed “It’s Hard Out There For a Pimp.”

I like the formality of the Oscars. I like how everyone has to look their best. I know that people say award shows like this are bogus but I suspect that if you won an Academy Award you would not feel this way. I would not feel that way. I would be like that Italian guy who so annoyed people with his twee-ness in 1999.
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