January 13, 2008
Samantha . . . who?
I intended to live blog the Golden Globes tonight, but then those writer types whah whah whah-ed all the way home and it wasn’t to be. I’m left watching the Access Hollywood talent fill time with excessively-Lubridermed legs that may or may not glow in the dark and really, really wide ties. Three hours of this and I might cry or break down and agree to have your babies.

It’s sad, but as much as I’m a whore for awards shows, there really wasn’t anyone I was excited to see this year. I need a new star. The starlets of my youth have gone the way of the Honda Odyssey: Julia Roberts seems to be jonesing to squeeze out a full litter and even Halle Berry bought herself a one-way ticket on the soccer mom train. I ache that the days of screwing bad boys like Keifer have been replaced with Costco packs of Sunny D. Nor do I want to make out with the Indie chicks, mostly because of a fear of patchouli well earned in college, so Keira Knightly and most anything British and twentysomething are out of the question. As is anything that’s touched the genitals of Tom Cruise.

The really young ones are just really irritating, as is their collective appetite for destruction. Britney is more than a train wreck, and instead is a woman approaching that Sioux City, Iowa plane crash I should never have read about in Time. If she stays on her current path, in but a few short months there will be absolutely no venti Starbucks foam for her cleaning crew to suction from the sidewalk. All that will remain are some ill-advised West Hollywood extensions and her sister’s 12 minutes of boiled peanuts fame. Hardly a legacy. Ms. Lohan? No different. Nor is the newly-delinquent Ms. Barton. Each of these girls is in a race to meet her demise a la Mama Cass, albeit at the hands of a Taco Bell chalupa rather than a ham sandwich. No sour cream, of course.

I’ve got my eyes on the even younger ones, the Raven Simones and the saccharine Hannah Montanas. One of you has got to have what it takes for engaging stardom, the stuff Madonna was made of when she wiped 80% of her bare skin on that 1984 MTV Music Awards stage. There must be a bona fide bad ass out there, a Russell Crowe or a Johnny Depp who is just greasy enough, but just expensively product'd enough that you’d think of allowing him into your bed.

And I’ve already loved the belles of the ball. Reese, we almost had something special, something lovely, before everyone else thought you had talent. You were Dido’s “Thank You” to me, a beautiful melody that was mine and only mine in the days of Marky Mark and Fear, before the mainstream found you and tainted everything by paying you what you were worth. We are so over.

But maybe just as it was with leggings, but ridiculously more successful and attractive on more than the anorectic, old will be new again. Hello, David Duchovny. Congrats on your big, shiny golden globe. How ‘bout I show you something from my X Files?

It might just be best to go to bed. Maybe until the Oscars.

Labels: ,



13 Comments:

Blogger Kristabella said...

The Golden Globes are my favorite. It's TV! And movies! And they serve the celebrities alcohol!

The writer's can take away my sitcoms and dramas, but I draw the line at award shows. At least have the red carpet. I'm having withdrawal.

I hope they end this in time for the Oscars.

Blogger JordanBaker said...

at the hands of a Taco Bell chalupa rather than a ham sandwich. No sour cream, of course

A chalupa death with no sour cream is the height of indignity.

Blogger Kelly said...

The "quality" of actors/singers highlight the state of their industries... Which singer/band has presence and stirs emotion? Same true of films and TV shows. There is nothing out there!

We can, however, rely on the celeb bloggers. And by that I do not mean bloggers who "report" on celebs, but the bloggers who have developped little pockets of celebrity. And you, dear blogger, are one!

Blogger Kelly said...

At least us soccer moms now have Julia Roberts to keep us company along with our Honda Odysseys and our middle-age spread. *Sigh*

Blogger WildbillthePirate said...

I, for one,am Happy there wasn't a show this year. Unless the writers get the increased residual income,who'd want to write anything? I'm Tired of seeing these fat-cat producers thinking they are the Real talent while collecting huge residual profit checks for selling Someone Elses' work!

If I were to make a Movie about your life Kris, aside from all the wonderful writing,cat fancying, boob flailing etc... I would expect you to profit from this venture into Insanity. Mama needs her Wine bill & Retirement paid for.

The Stars will still be there, after all where will they go? The Big Companies & Producers are just going to have to do something they just HATE: Pay their people Fairly then everything will go back to normal. it's the Right thing to do.

As for who you might want- "Yours is the Earth & everything in it..."

Blogger ThursdayNext said...

I am just upset I was deprived of seeing Johnny Depp in one of his funky outfits...

Blogger deeeeeetroit said...

SERIOUSLY?!?! SERIOUSLY?!?! (In best acceptance speach voice)....Coming from a former L.A. nobody with an Emmy to his credit I say EFFE the writers. Is that 5 hours of coke induced work too much for you too handle? Sorry you all only average 200k per year and have to live in the Valley because you cant move south on the 405 over the hill and towards the beach. Grow a set already Hollywood and tell these punks they are one step away from writing Applebees menu's ("No, I don't want the triple fudge/peanut butter suicide, but that sure sounded tasty from the description"). I live in the most depressing place know to man for 8 months out of the year. I need my fix of mid-January low cut boob shots (even if it is Jack Nicholson's boobs). Just sayin....

Blogger t2ed said...

I think we should send a great big thank you note to the writers for making sure we don't have to endure any forced banter between Katherine Heigl and Sly Stallone. Because they're both willing to do anything to pimp their movies.

When I heard the Writer's Guild Strike cancelled the Golden Globes, I knew every cloud really did have a silver lining. Curse you Hollywood Foreign Press.

Blogger Saxon said...

Bah... I hate awards show. Maybe if something blew up, or someone fell, or just got up and said a filthy string of expletives... otherwise, there's no point in me watching.

I could care less who's wearing what, and how they feel about whatever.

I'd be happy if they just posted the winners online and didn't have a show at all!

Blogger gorillabuns said...

as i sat watching sundays crap pseudo-awards show, (soberly)i knew - kris is eagerly awaiting for this show to be over and done with so she can get on with the "american gladiators."

Blogger barb michelen said...

Hello I just entered before I have to leave to the airport, it's been very nice to meet you, if you want here is the site I told you about where I type some stuff and make good money (I work from home): here it is

Blogger Jorge said...

It's funny.
I'm not missing anything.
I don't watch award shows, because I think they're silly.

Nothing like being awarded for something you're paid for all the time.

Scads and scads of cash.

Oh, and public recognition (before the awards).

Meh.

I'm an award Cynic.

Blogger Amy Cates said...

I wouldn't consider this an insult at all! Think of all the worse possibilities. Really, in some circles, this is a compliment.
Love the blog. Found it in a wire story in The Birmingham News. I'll be back. And I plan to list your blog on mine.
You're welcome.

Post a Comment

<< Home

footer