Absorbing The Cockeyed Bask Of The Hollywood Sponge

HOLLYWOOD – Most of your run-of-the-mill, fatigued news outlets will be serving up all the traditional yawning commentary on this year’s Academy Awards, consisting of personal attacks at [enter here] and the dress he/she was wearing, as well as your household groans vibrating from your local conservative talk radio dial, giving the bulk of the general public what to think about Hollywood, and how the liberals have completely taken over. The McCarthy trials only scratched the surface, according to some of these swine. What we really need is to stretch Clooney and Eastwood out on a rack, pour boiling acid on their genitals, and really find out how red these liberal-masked communists really are.
Not here, however.
Luckily I’ve found myself on Lush For Life’s good side, with a more than reasonable spending budget and on location, on the outside borders of the red carpet at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood. I’m not sure how to describe the tasteful/fashionable style of some of these stars, like a lot of the publications aforementioned, so if you don’t mind, for both yours and my benefit, I’ll skip it.
I began the evening at the Kodak bar, which you may have expected, sipping and sharing a Rusty Nail with none other than the immortal, immaculate Dennis Hopper.
“Why are you here? Don’t you have anywhere better to be?” he asked, drinking the snarly beverage I bought for him, on Lush For Life’s budget. “If you want some real fun, find me a little later.”
The awards kicked off with a bang, if you ask me, with Ellen Degeneres’ monologue. Working over the snobbish, talented crowd of the Hollywood elite is not an easy task, and she nailed it beautifully. I sent a memo directly to Duncan Idaho back at headquarters, telling him to get on the phone with Degeneres’ agent, to see if she’d like to be our on-site Hollywood correspondent. After her monoluge, I had a chance to meet her backstage to find outhow she was feeling.
“What an easy crowd,” she said, snuffing a bloated line of booger sugar off the pocket mirror/coke periphial plate I keep stashed in my jacket pocket, along with a flask-full of Austin Nichols’ finest. “I can set it up where you go out on stage, make an apperance,” she said.
“Not tonight,” I responded, handing her the mirror. “But do me a favor,” I asked her, knowing she’d be open-minded enough to carry out what ever I asked, mostly for our relationship, but combined with her disdain for the auidience she’s being paid to speak to. “Give this script to Martin,” I said, “it’s a brilliant one, with Terminators, dinosaurs, Scotsman, Aliens, Godzilla, King Kong, lesbians, and a massive six-hour fight scene.”
“I can do whatever I want,” she said. “I’ve already cashed the check they gave me, so if I ‘cross the line,’ or however they may see it, there’s no difference because I’ve already been paid,” she said.
Once I made my way back to the pressroom, and being bored to tears by my so-called colleagues, one of the major topics of the awards began to come to light. The surging force of “An Inconvenient Truth” and the liberals began to firm its grasp around the heartbeat of the award show. First, Al Gore showed his continuing swelling jowels and growing multiple chins alongside the dreamy and adored, not to mention the nominated, Leo DiCaprio, spouting about some kind of environmental nonsense that only the super-uber-modern-hippies understood. It wasn’t until “An Inconvenient Truth” won best documentary feature, which for anyone who has a brain and noticed that Gore was introduced as a “special guest,” the firm grasp of liberal overtaking began to come to light.
Al Gore was given an open forum, a forum that is broadcast in 110 countries, an audience of over 1 billion, to broadcast his ideas of global warming and the state of the planet. Usually, this type of approach is looked down upon – taking advantage of mass media coverage and a worldwide event to push your political views – but the Academy decided to write their script in that fashion. It would be an awful thing, sure, if you are a listener of Rush, Hannity, or Levin, for Hollywood to take a stance against anything contrary to what conservatives or the President feel press-worthy. If you are a regular, clear-thinking, rational human being, then it would be obvious to you that Hollywood would take an anti-war, pro-environmental, super-liberal approach. You’re dealing with artist, here, people…
Following Al Gore’s ‘fake announcement,’ I decided to take ‘ole Hopper up on his deal. I met Dennis at a diner outside the Kodak Theatre, where I was picked up by a discreet stretch Lincoln Town Car, with a suspicious driver who simply said, “Get in,” where I didn’t show a bit of reluctance.
Upon entering the vehicle, the immaculately bald Jack Nicholson said, “Take these fuckers and this line and show them a good time,” getting out of the car, presumably to present an award. “I’ve got the driver taking you to a seriously hip spot.”
I arrived at a modernly-designed compound off Mullholland, greeted by Dennis Hopper as I exited the limosene. “My henchmen came through for once… Come on in,” he said, holding some sort of colorful drink with an umbrella that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on. “Let me take you to the place where you belong,” Hopper said, slurring his words and slagging his eyes. “There’s a group of people you need to meet and are dying to meet you,” he said.
I walked through an elaborately decadent Hollywoodian home, with all the elements one would come to expect, from a tight-bodied Asian asking to give me a milkly-silk footbath, to Sasha Baron Cohen telling me he has two stories ready to go for our publication.
I exited the rear doors, entering the patio section of Dennis Hopper’s home, and sat down at a table with the highly regarded Hopper, actor Kevin Costner, fellow actors Johnny Depp and Christopher Walken, and actress Scarlett Johanssen. “Don’t have the stomach for the awards, people,” I asked, trying to find out who was the most bitter. Usually the first one to comment is the culprit.
“I went last year,” actor Depp said, “but only because I was nominated, even though I knew I would never win. You have to maintain some sort of respect to their bullshit every now and then. Any other year they can go fuck themselves.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve taken an interest in me,” Costner said to me, regarding to our website and publication. “What’s the deal?”
Before I got into detail woth Costner about how much he means to both us and all the intertwining workings of the ever-changing elements of the universe, I gave him a break.
“Call my secretary,” I said. “She wears tall, red-colored heels and loves your movies to death. She’d love to speak with you.”
I had to make it back to the awards at some time in the evening, and it seemed the time had come. I gave Hopper a handful of roxys in exchange for his limosene services, which he promptly agreed without hesitation.
Upon arriving back at the Kodak Theatre, and arriving backstage, I found Jack Nicholson, waiting…
“How long have you been here,” I asked.
I couldn’t see the inner-workings of his mannerisms behind the always awesome shades he always wears. “I’m giving out the Best Picture award,” he said, “and let me just tell you, its going to be a sweep.”
I recently found out from fellow on-site correspondent that “The Departed” had won for both Best Editing and Best Director, giving Scorsese his first and long coming award in that category.
He’ll trash my script, now, I thought….
Jack and I shared a line before he went out to hug Martin and present the Best Picture award, and I decided to join Ellen and her band of weirdos for their Oscar after-party.
Finally Martin has won his elusive award, which he didn’t nessaceraly need to legitimize himself, but at least the ongoing argument is over.
Mel Gibson, James Cameron, and Steven Soderberg ARE NOT a better directors than Scorsese. In our culture, the more trophies you’ve got measures your importance on the world.
Here is his first. We need to get started…



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