Monday, 23 February 2015


melanie griffith, dakota johnson, oscars 2015, irina shayk, fifty shades of gey,
has instantly become my new favourite "IF YOU LITTLE SHITS EVER DID THAT TO ME" parental moment. 

You may have noticed I completely shunned the Oscars. If there's one thing I hate more than an empty shotglass it's an awards show. Jesus, they're boring, and the Oscars is rapidly becoming the worst of the bunch. Many minds greater than mine have already dissected the quivering dung heap that was the 87th Academy Awards, so I won't bother to pile on. Although I will milk it for a few cheap slutty laughs because last time I checked, I wasn't dead yet. Or nice. I'll never be nice. I hope you weren't hanging around waiting for that to happen, because the last person who did that was my moron editor and look how his life turned out. 
(Editor's note: *whimpers* Please, mistress, might I have a spot of gruel? 
My note: SHUT UP AND GET BACK IN YOUR CAGE! You know damn well it's not Friday yet!) 

Now where was I? Ah yes. The Oscars. There were only three "moments" that I found even remotely interesting and Doogie Howser in his underwear wasn't one of them. What DID register on my radar was this:

THING ONE: John Travolta trying so hard to prove he's not gay that he came off as gayer than he's ever come off before. Is it just me or was Travolta's weird repeated grabbing of Idina Menzel's chin and spontaneous pecking of Scarlett Johansson's cheek not the most uncomfortable, unhetero depiction of manhood since Bruce Jenner's budding bosoms? Click here and tell me the guy isn't secretly picturing Tom Cruise's face right now.

THING TWO: Irina Shayk's dress. You may remember Irina Shayk as the woman gonads-for-brains Cristiano Ronaldo cheated on last month. (A move I'm pretty sure he regrets right about now.) Irina confirms she's officially looking for a new beau, not that we wouldn't have guessed because nothing says "I'm available" like going commando in an arse-baring mesh dress, amirite? It's a miracle John Travolta didn't try to butt-grind her. 
THING THREE: Just as I suspected, Dakota Johnson is not only a charmless dullard who inherited none of the marginal talents of her marginally talented parents, but she's also a spoiled brat. My blood literally boiled when she dissed her own mother on the friggin red carpet (video below). In case you missed it, and I sincerely hope you did, when an interviewer asked Melanie Griffith if she'd seen her daughter's raunchy BDSM blockbuster Fifty Shades, she blushed and confessed she hadn't. "She's a really good actress," Melanie said. "I don't need to see (that movie) to know how good she is." Which, considering what an epic piece of crap Fifty Shades is, was pretty generous of her, so of course Dakota had to snap, "All right! You don't have to see it!" before turning away and hissing "Jesus Christ." And the Oscar for best self-restraint goes to ... Melanie Griffith. Because if my kid ever did that, there'd be teeth on the floor. And they wouldn't be mine.