And the Oscar goes to: Your Mom

Not the worst Academy Awards show I've ever seen, eh.

Ellen was OK, most of the dresses were great (except for you, Gwyneth Paltrow, you ugly snobby bitch, and you, Cameron Diaz -- YOU ARE NOT HOT, AND THAT LIPSTICK SUCKED -- and also Nicole Kidman needs to get her hair out of her face -- see Reese Witherspoon for a lesson in how long hair is done, you Botox-addicted freak), loved the Errol Morris short at the beginning, hated the Yay America montage, nearly had a breakdown thinking we'd missed the death montage (and then got very sad about Darren McGavin and Peter Boyle), acknowledged the force of nature that is The Clooney (the living embodiment of the word and the attribute "Handsome"), knew Scorsese was winning when the three tenors came out to present Best Director (yay!), loved Al Gore (and how genuinely chuffed Larry DiCaprio was to be hangin with him), was fascinated by the naked full-body shadow puppetry in spite of my lifelong hatred of things similar, LOVED the Jack Black/Will Ferrell/John C. Reilly musical number ("I was in both 'Boogie' and 'Talladega' Niiiiiights!"), adored Dame Helen Mirren, gave a sincere "Well played!" to Downey and his awesome new look, haaaaaaaaaated the tidbitty factoid shit they announced as each winner made his or her way to the stage, and of course, became completely enraged at the excessive overtime (which caused me to have to cancel Amazing Race, reschedule BSG for the Tuesday replay, and miss Law & Order: Criminal Intent because of said BSG Tuesday replay -- faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahq! -- and they were STILL doing "bits" and stupid shit like following ex-MTV-VJ-whatshisnuts around backstage when they were an HOUR OVER ALREADY. Blooooat.

And also! I won 3rd in the office Oscar pool -- ten fat American dollars to me! Suck it, Internets! Bring the March Madness signup sheet -- I got my THIRD-PLACE MOJO WORKIN!