Bored at the Awards

Meh. These awards shows are getting more and more sterile, more and more formulaic as the years go by. Why must everything be done by the book? We get it, already. There's a pre-show, there are ugly and there are pretty dresses, there is a tribute to a dead man, one to a live man, people are played off stage by the same producer with the same cheesy instrumental . . . it's a wonder people still watch television when these essentially promotional shows are so routine and turned out with only slight updates to the prior year's script.

But there is always something to say. My comments:

THE OPENING

We Need A Montage! Few things are funnier than any award show opening montage. That To Catch A Predator spoof had me in stitches, I say. Producers should make every awards show opening montage 45 minutes long and make up the time by completely cutting all lame presenter jokes. Notta one. is ever. funny.

Conan O'Brien is going to show up as one of those corpses on CSI pretty soon. Jennifer Love Hewitt seems to have an abundance of tanning gel; maybe she can help a brother out.

Musical numbers should be kept to a minimum in most environments. Didn't we learn anything from Drew Carrey? Ugh.

Jim from the Office is next candidate for being kept in that box under my bed.

THE AWARDS

Wait, is Desperate Housewives still on the air? Last I checked there was more buzz about According to Jim.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus is the new Dick Clark. I'm convinced that she will never die, and will end up cast in wax by age 50. Or maybe she's the new Cloris Leachman? Jesus, Mary.

I miss you, Huff. And I miss Oliver Platt's coked out ranting and raving. Sunday nights just aren't the same, even with the condolences provided by my Entourage boys.

Um, Simon Cowell, this is a dress-up party. That means wearing one of your best ties, not your finest chest hair.

Piven will now be kept in the box under the bed next to Jim's. A man who can improvise, shares a B Fri charm with one Mr. John Cusack, and is not afraid to tear up in front of millions while wearing an ascot is certainly a keeper. And I bet he is downright amazing in the sack.

Any intro that involves "special tribute" is a TV viewer's cue to use the restroom or pluck wily chin hairs.

MY PROPOSAL FOR NEW AWARDS CATEGORIES:

Most Likely to Pass Out Because She Ate Only Air for the Week Before the Awards: Ellen Pompeo

Most Likely to Pass Out Because She Ate Only Air for the Thirty Years Prior to the Awards: Farrah Fawcett

Most Suprising Candidate to End Up in Box Under Kris' Bed: Hugh Laurie

Never, Ever, Going to End Up in a Box Under Kris' Bed, Even with the Assistance of a Lead Muzzle and in the Absence of Air Holes: Howie Mandel

Most Irritating Been There, Done That: Anyone who says "We're Running Long" at one of these things. I've heard this one more times than Tara Reid's been called a whore. Ugh.

Most Desirable Moment that of Course Will Never Happen: A gorgeous Heather Locklear jumping off stage and mounting the crazy but hot Charlie Sheen for an impromptu makeout session, while their dirty bird exes are forced to watch.

Least Discreet, But Most Envied Early Departure of the Evening: Cricket, who passed out on my laundry after the second award, realizing that if the actual ceremony was this boring that the afterparties were definitely going to blow.