I admit that I didn't watch ALL of the Oscars this year. Like your average geriatric, I'm in bed by 9:00 most nights. Anyway, what struck me the most about the whole event was how average James Franco looked. I thought he was hot or something. And then, after a google search, I realized that he's like a real-life Seinfeld episode - hot half of the time, not so hot the other half of the time. Take a look:
Hot.
Not so hot.
Yes, please.
NO THANK YOU.
On the other hand, I had always found Colin Firth pasty and doughy. You know, rather British-looking. But maybe British-looking isn't so bad. I do like floppy hair.
On to Lady Gaga. This past weekend, while cropping with friends, I learned that there are people in the world who DISLIKE Gaga. What?! How could this be? It was as if someone had told me that they didn't like breathing so much. And then I got to thinking of all of the reasons I pray at the alter of Gaga. The first song I heard of Gaga's was "Just Dance," and I fell in love then. It remains my favorite. No other song reflects how you feel when it's 1:00 AM on a dancefloor better. I mean, your clothes are stuck to your body from all of the sweat (from you and probably some other people, too), your body is aching, you're parched, and your ears are ringing from the music. But damnit, your body keeps contorting, your back keeps arching, and your head keeps slinging your hair all over the club like a duck shaking it's body off after a swim in a pond. And it feels good. Even as the lights are about to come on, that last drop to the floor, punctuated with a lightning-fast slap to your own ass feels like magic. And Lady Gaga gets it.
The woman is also a poet:
I won't tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin with my muffin
I'm not lying I'm just stunnin with my love-glue-gunning
These are my favorite lyrics of hers. The profundity brings tears to my eyes. And to the 2 people that will probably read this post (Hi, Stephanie!), check out the song "Teeth."
1 comments:
Innteresting thoughts
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