The official Golden Globe nominations were held last Thursday. You know what that means: award season is upon us. Yay?
If you're starring in one of the movies nominated: fun! For the rest of us, as their recent ratings can attest, the Golden Globes and Oscars are just another snoozefest of self-congratulatory Hollywood crap. Every few years there might an upset, in which someone like Diablo Cody struts off with an award, but usually the awards shows highlight only "serious" thespians who practically scream "ACTING!" in every film (Philip Seymor Hoffman, I'm looking at you).
At least during the Golden Globes, which award both dramatic and comedic performances, there is a little leeway for goofiness. Still, it isn't enough. Who says that musicals have to get lumped in with comedy? Didn't anyone see Les Mis? Shit is sad.
If it was up to us, the Golden Globes would fracture their categories even further, until the real heroes of 2008 got recognized. Sure, the addition of our special awards would drag the ceremony out another 2 hours, but that's just more time for Sean Young to get wasted and start screaming at Julian Schnabel again.
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Horatio Sanz fell into that "fat funny guy on Saturday Night Live" that always seemed to be hazardous for its occupants health. John Belushi, Chris Farley, and their drug/alcohol problems automatically come to mind. But by the beginning of the new millennium, Lorne Michaels seemed to have learned his lesson, and picked an actor who, while not quite shining like Belushi or Farley, seemed a lot more emotionally stable.
But what has Horatio been doing since he left SNL in 2006? Exercising and eating at Subways, apparently.
Are you guys ready for the "after" pic? You are definitely not ready:
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Listen, we all know Kevin Smith is full of shit when he says that it was an "unintended" side-effect of the title of his newest feature that everyone would get all up in arms about it.
From the posters that were banned in America because they featured Elizabeth Banks and Seth Rogan with their heads in each other's crotches, to the inflammatory second posters that just featured stick figures as a big "fuck you" to the MPAA and caused MGM to drop out of the distribution deal, to the title of the friggin' film, Zack and Miri Make a Porno, Smith seems driven to out-Apatow Apatow and remind him who the original crude boys club with a heart filmmaker is.
Whatever. The problem with Kevin Smith is, we've all been down this road before (Dogma) and we know where it leads us (back to Jersey Girl):
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Perhaps Tatum O’Neal should've tried this excuse: the drugs weren't hers.
That's what Seth Rogen and James Franco are saying about last night's MTV Movie Awards stint where they smoked (fake?) weed on stage.
According to Franco, they were just holding … for MTV. CONTINUED »
• Transformers hottie Megan Fox is just like Angelina Jolie, minus the brood of adopted kids, severe emotional baggage and expired vial of Billy Bob Thornton's blood. [via Us]
• Jessica Simpson has apparently taken to stalking ex-boyfriend John Mayer, prompting Mayer to "shak[e] his head back and forth like, 'God, make her stop.'" A direct inner-monologue, we presume!
• Britney Spears finally remembers to wear underwear. Meanwhile, she also forgets how to exit a car without giving us an eyeful of her post-partum crotch region.
• The Tyra Banks Show is coming to New York! Hope she remembers to bring all her loyal viewers with her! Oh, wait.
• Seth Rogen and his hilarious pot-smoking boy posse have nothing but tea and sympathy for Paris Hilton. Oh, and also this.
• From CNN: "1800's weapon found embedded in whale blubber." Hehe. Fatty.
