Rolling Stone calls it Worst. Oscars. Ever.
The much-promised "young and hip" Oscar telecast fell on its skinny, high-fashion ass last night. It's not that The King's Speech triumphed as Best Picture over my fave, The Social Network. I'm over that. Oscar is famous for unadventurous, comfort-food choices. Best Actor winner Colin Firth claimed the "stirrings" he was experiencing in the upper abdominal regions might make him dance. The stirrings I felt from the 83rd annual Oscar show made me want to puke. How could so many stars bore so many people breathless? Where to start?