You know, I just realized that, for an awards show that no one really likes to watch 'cause it's incredibly boring, we're all still obsessed with it. America really is Hollywood's bitch.
My fellow Gays are rioting over the Brokeback loss. Fabulously, of course.
Lots of people were liveblogging.
Andy Towle was shocked, but still incredibly pretty.
Rich is going to hell with Lauren Bacall.
Opinion on Jon Stewart's hosting is rather divided. Really, though, when does any host ever make everyone happy, so what does it matter? Someone is always going to bitch.
Crash provoked a hate-fuck.
The indomitable Fug Girls eviserate the bad Oscars fashion after overcoming Clooney Coma.
BTW, I totally never really got the Clooney-lusting thing, but, after losing the Syriana weight and recovering from the spinal injury, dude has been looking majorly hot. However, I didn't like the end of his acceptance speech. I mean, his "I'm glad we're not in touch" is fine, but he really didn't think it through. I mean, yeah, the Academy gave an Oscar to Hattie McDaniel in 1939 (because, I mean, how could you not give an Oscar to Mamie? She's the best part of the film!), but she and her date had to sit in the back of the theater at the ceremony. And it's not like black actors were rakin' in the big roles for a long time after that. Also, yeah, you guys have been supportive of AIDS research, but y'all are also all closeted, too. So, George, Hollywood might not be "in touch," but that hardly makes it "progressive."
Pajiba weighs in.
Isaac Mizrahi is just like Joan Rivers (though, in my book, that's fine, since I love the old, plastic bitch).
Michael Berube hasn't gotten over Dances With Wolves yet, let alone Crash.
Richard lays on the sarcasm.
Some are dazed, but not confused.
And... that's it, I think. I'm Oscars-ed out.