Swan Song

Since reality tv does, indeed, suck proverbial and literal ass (don't ask), things must, inevitably, indubitably, and most certainly, categorically, turn to the pretentious Oscar race. And no, you uninitiated goslings, that isn't referring to Seseme Street or Blue Valentine's forlorn lover (which won't win best pic, unless William's real-life hubby comes back to scare up some support with his demonic cachinnations). In the spirit of this yearly Oscar column, I've pulled out the thesaurus and am going to go Whitman on your asses.

On second thought. F*** that. I'm tired of this pretentious bullshit, and I'm running out of wit like Mel is friends. Ten films to cover just to get a best picture nod? That is a lot of time. In fact, if taking a really long shit took me like 30 minutes, that would be like 50 good stall visits. Literally, I would have to flush like 50 good boughts of flatulence and Maxim down the proverbial toilet to deal with this stuck up shit. But if I don't, God forbid, your pretentious asses will be stringing me up for being some philistine. So let's find some common ground, so I can get back to taking my number two in peace, kapice?

Alright, I just got back from the jon with an idea... let's condense them all. Boil em down to the basics and get this shit over with. Alright... so let's list a handful. No one is going to see the King's Speech, so that is a goner. Alright... Black Swan. Lesbians, spandex, insanity... but lots of pretentious gobly gook. So let's take the whole insanity bit. The Fighter, well throw a boxer in. The Town... Boston, robbery, blah blah. True Grit, little girl on the war path. Inception.. you all seen that anyway, so let's just go with it. Oh yeah, and anyone knows that Jesse Eisenberg made The Social Wetwork, so let's miscast him as the lead. Sure. Fine. I'm getting tired. So get a pot, toss em together... hmm. Alright. So Jesse Eisenberg stars as a former child boxer who wants to rob Fenway Park to get enough money to relaunch his boxing career. But before the robbery can afford to go south, Eisenberg starts thinking this new girl, played by Mila Kunis, on his crew is making a play for leading the boys. As his sanity wanes, the action shifts to an alcoholic local sheriff who befriends a small girl who claims Eisenberg broke into her gambling addict father's dreams to get a hot tip on that weekend's Sox/Yankees match. Well, the movie ends with Eisenberg losing his arm in the attack, and watching Mark Walberg and Mila Kunis walking into the sunset, as Max Payne theme music plays.

Alright, well that is one Oscar Worthy film. Got the drama, romance, cliches and pretentious crap that makes us all love this bullshit. And it isn't reality tv, which is a f****** blessing. Alright, gotta get back to taking a shit.