The Pre Show, or, Ryan Seacrest Is A Dwarf

Carlos and I had a big day. Nice weather in Smallville, so we hit the yard, and we hit the yard hard. Mowing; bagging leaves; leaf-blowing the driveway; power-washing the walkways; bundling tree branches. We ached. Afterwards, we stumbled and moaned into the house and slathered ourselves down with Ben Gay--which is an ointment and not, sad to say, a hot Scottish houseboy.

Then we nestled in to catch the Gay Superbowl, aka The Oscars. They've gotten so predictable these past few years with all of the other awards shows, but still, you like to see who wore what and what they said and so on.

So, we started with the E! channel and Ryan Seacrest, or as I now dub him, the Eighth Dwarf, Insufferable, and Giuliana Rancic, a lollipop. Seriously. Twig thin body and a large round head. Yeah, G, that looks natural. Of course, she was paired once again with the Biggest Queen In The World, Jay "Is my hair too silver or not silver enough?" Manual. And I thanked the goddesses for the DVR, because we could pause on commercials and then fast forward through the Tin-Haired Man and the Lollipop Girl.

First up was Sam Worthington, from Avatar, and Carlos instantly sat up in his seat. Who's that?

But, scarier than Carlos' sudden mancrush on Sam was the kind of icky mancrush that Not-A-Boy-Not-Quite-A-Man Zac Efron had on Sam. I mean, I like my man-on-man crushes as well as the next gay, but this Efron, giddy as a schoolgirl, gushing about how she saw Worthington in 3D five times, was just, well, icky. Uh huh. Zac, honey, you really aren't :::pingpingping:::: fooling anyone.

Luckily, Mo'nique showed up. She is is effin' delightful and she is rockin' the Billie Holiday gardenia. I'm continually amazed, seeing her glammed up and red carpeted, and equating that with the woman in that last scene of Precious. Brilliant.

Of course, Seacrest, shunts aside talent and dignity and beauty because Nick Cannon and his heifer, I mean, wife, Mooriah, I mean, Mariah, Carey, have arrived. Mariah is showing less udders, and more flank than she did at the Golden Globes, and yet it's still really bad. She's a big girl--and when did she get so big?--who needs to rein in the flesh parade. Luckily, Nick gets back on his horse and herds her inside. Yeehaw! Carlos thought she looked less bovine and more linebacker....though he doesn't really know what a linebacker is.

Mickey Rooney!?!? Carlos asks, seriously, Isn't he dead?

Zoe Saldana, another Avatar victim, comes up in what has to be the ugliest, salute to the Powderpuff Girls, dress of the night. All sorts of color, all bad, and those balls hanging off her. I thought, Surrey with the fringe on top. Then I just thought Ugly.

Nicole Richie and Joel Madden looking a little retro, though for Nicole, retro means bored and vapid. Well, not vapid, because she's that all the time. Joel is going to DJ the commercial breaks. How did he get that gig? I could'a brought my turntable and spun some discs. Really. I could.

Vera Farmiga, I have no idea who she is, but Seacrest is smitten. He actually asks her is she gets recognized. In.Her.Home. King Of The Illiterati. She swoops in, wearing a dress of fuchsia origami coffee filters. When will that trend end? I kept thinking Jasmine Tea while watching that mess scrape down the carpet.

But, let's take a Man Moment.

Ryan Reynolds...pause the DVR.....swoon. He's is a tall, hot drink of water; suave; funny; built like a Scottish houseboy named Ben Gay.

But then we have Jason Reitman, director of Up In The Air, who could have used some that tall drink of hot water and shampoo in his hair. Note to Jason: grunge is over.

Jim Cameron. Hate him. Moving on. Loving the DVR.

Maggie Gyllenhaal comes by in a dress that looks like they forgot to finish it. Why does the color and pattern just stop? Someone was in a hurry. Elizabeth Banks...another Who?...in some gray thing that makes her ass look like a tank. and then, Mister Dapper, Mister Always Dressed To The Nines, Tom Ford, in, um, Tom Ford. Tom Ford is just pure sex.


Sigourney Waver is wearing some god-awful blood red sheet cinched at the waist with a patent leather belt. It's the PR Campbells Soup Challenge all over again. I say Matronly, Carlos says Big Tomato. He wins.

Tina Fey. Love her. Don't love her PTA mom sense of style. The dress is okay, though it seems a wee bit Zhay Cee Pen-yay, but it's the hair that screams, Let me pop into Supercuts for a color and blow, and then we'll go to Payless shoes for those wedgies I love.

Diane Kruger....Who?...in a gown that looks like a reject from the Project Runway Make A Dress Out Of Kleenex challenge. Diane? I don't know you, or what movie you were in, wrote, costumed, made up, lit or directed, but, seriously. Fire.The.Stylist.

Now, in the interests of fairness, I must say that I am Team Meryl, always. Failing that, I am Team Mirren--the Birtish Meryl. But, Sandra Bullock. Sandy. Nice gal. Always makes good, fun films. She's pretty. She's fun. She has a tattoed biker husband. What's not to love? I sense that you could share a Bud Lite with her, and a shot of Cuervo. And tonight she looks glam and shiny. That dress is made to hold an Oscar, and it will.

Tyler Perry swishes by :::pingpingping::: and namedrops Oprah because their besties. Amanda Seyfried appears to be being eaten by pleats, but enough of her because Jake is there. Gyllenhaal, that is. Scruffy. Cute. A.Dorable.

Then the screen goes black and thunderclouds form, because Mylie Cyrus slouches by, all big teeth, obnoxious voice, and drugged out whorishness. Why they invite this Beverly hillbilly is beyond me. But soon she is dragged off by her dealer/pimp/mother and replaced by SJP and Mathew Broderick. They both look retro; she looks Liz Taylor, circa Butterfield 8, and he looks banker, circa How Did I Get So Old and Pasty.

Kathryn Bigelow is an amazon. She scares me, and yet I can't look away. I want to be put into a hurt locker, if you get my meaning. And then we see Charlize Theron; gorgeous woman; friend of The Gays; and she's wearing....Rosette Breasts. Seriously, I am so gay and even I can't stop looking at her woman pillows. Usually she is fashion fabulousness, tonight she was, What?

Stanley Tucci. Nerdy. Balding. Glasses. I.Love.Him. Carlos doesn't get it. I do. But, see, Carlos is nerdy, not balding, and glasses. i guess I do have a type!

JLO, who hasn't had a hit movie, or record, since the Eisenhower administration is there. Oh. She has another one of her romantic comedies coming out and, well, since the album will tank she's gonna shove the movie down our throats. Still, Jenny From The Block is in a gorgeous dress that makes her ample booty look even more ample, if possible. The dress is fabulous, I'll give her that, but her choice of accessory, Marc Anthony, is not.



Keanu Reeves. With.A.Beard. And by beard, I don't mean the usual paid-for-by-the-agent-to-make-my-client-appear-hetero kind of beard, but. An.Actual.Beard. He's a hot looking man, so why he chose to cover up that face, I will never know.

And then we have Precious herself, Gabourey Sidibie. now, i know, she's a big girl. The first thing out of Carlos mouth was that she was fat. But she's a big girl, with a big heart, and a big spirit, and big fun, and she got off one of the best lines of the night. "If fashion was porn, this dress would be the money shot."
Ba-BAM!
Think about it. Plus, she is so full of life, and yet she, like Mo'Nique, took a very dark role.
J'adore La Gabby!

Robert Downey Jr. Scruffy, sexy. Love him. And then Jeff Bridges. Great actor. So many great films...Starman....The Fisher King....Fearless...and a longtime hottie; young Jeff hot. Older Jeff still hot.

And, how best to follow up hotness and great talent, than with Cameron Diaz!
I kid.
Still Cammie looked a little presentable last night. I'm thinking, Someone took a bath!!
And run a comb through her hair. uusally, on awards night, she looks more like the girl who drank Jello shots off a manwhore, then got dressed in the dark, and rode a harley to the show.
Cammie was my WTF moment. the one who took me by surprise. And so, E! ends their preshow extravaganza, and Ryan Seacrest crawls back into a tiny vial of formaldehyde, while Giuliana Rancic goes in for the psot show botox, and Jay looks for silver paint for his head. But, before they sign off, E! ends the boradcast as it began.
With a hot guy.
Ladies and Gentleladies, Chris Pine and those baby blues....Hold me.
I make the switch to ABC, for their big show pre-show D-I-saster.

Sherri Shepard? Seriously, girl, get a boob reduction. You look like the letter P.
And Kathy Ireland, former model, and poster child for the facelift that makes you look like someone else. At least they kept her out of close-ups, because that was one scary mess.
Jess Cagle was The Gay, because it's the Oscars and you have to have a gay.

This half-hour show was a mess, and the perfect time for bathroom breaks and phone calls and so on. If I hear Sherri say "Hey girl!" one more time, I may shoot out the set.

Thankfully it ends, and ::::gasp::::the real show begins...............................................Next!