Do we really need shows whose singular purpose is to stroke the already over-inflated egos of talentless hacks whom lack any trace of competency or humility? I’m going with NO! It’s on the same level as giving out awards to spoiled socialites for:
- Biggest waste of daddy’s money.
- Strangest pet in a purse
- Most DUI’s in a month
- Largest shoe closest
And of course the much coveted:
- I want an Oompa Loompa now! Whiney bitch of the month, jewel encrusted Dolce and Gabbana trophy.
Why we hold these “people” with such high regard is something I cannot grasp, like trying to squeeze a hagfish in a bowl of Vaseline. I will concede that some of them can actually act (around 4.37%), but to pay them with railway cars full of cash, AND put them on a show to give them trophies for reading another persons words is insanity squared.
“Who are you wearing?” Oh for the love god WHO CARES! It’s a ridiculous looking dress with garish jewelry. Should we be subjugated to some stinky cheese flavor of the month wearing a million dollars in jewelry? No! If these camera-loving narcissists want to garner the paparazzi encrusted accolades they so desperately need, try taking the $3,260 for the Manolo Blahnik’s and spend it on a center for abused women and children.
“The red carpet – walk of shame.” That’s what they should rename it for every single award show now and forevermore. Why? Because the psychologically stilted performers whom parade themselves down it are really nothing more than high priced harlots. You heard me! Watch them as they cavort down the carpet trying to ignore the throngs of vacuous stares, flashing lights, and of course small shiny metal objects. And at the exact same time they secretly pray that everyone notices them and… random date – insert name here. I’m not sure which is worse the painfully obvious pre-approved questions or the thoroughly homogenized researched answers? It just is too much and it makes my head hurt.
Real estate, as you’ve heard, is about location, location, and location. With TV it’s writing, writing, and, oh um writing. Unfortunately for the viewing public the writing on these shows is “Bucky Larson” horrendous. The jokes ALWAYS fall flat and the musical numbers are more painful to watch than being shoved feet first into a rusty wood chipper. “Say Julia, are you girl standing in front a podium asking it to present the best male actor?” OH GOD KILL ME NOW!
And what the hell is the deal with celebrities who get on stage and thank the scores of “little” people and do so with that lame-ass move where they act like they are praying? Seriously do these people think they studied under the Dali Lama and now have magical abilities, which they think can be channeled by this poser-ass move? And let’s not forget that absurd 3-inch bow that accompanies this praying mantis move, lord what complete tools. Hai!
Teen Choice Award Shows are the next step in the de-evolutionary process for the human race. Really America, should we care one iota what a teen thinks? Oh wait they don’t think, so again I’m going with – NO! These kids think they are entitled to and deserve to be treated as adults. Well guess what Bloober, you do not. They have absolutely no life experiences and yet think their opinions should be heard. Nope. The old mantra of “Kids should be seen and not heard” is a truism for a reason. The only kids whom we should be “listening” to are the few, and rare, ones that get into MIT at the age of 15. THOSE kids are special, these other dullards need to shut their holes and realize that they are nothing more than spoiled brats whom will be on D-List-Celebrity-Rehab in a few years. Just ask Tony DeFranco!
Award shows, pshaw! As previously stated I am, obviously, not the intended audience by ANY stretch of the imagination. So when my wife wants to watch one I make sure I am nowhere near the TV so I don’t spout off with a witty and clever barb about how happy I am just to be nominated to BBQ dinner! And I avoid this not because I don’t enjoy blasting these Hollywood Hosiers, nope, it’s because I love my wife and don’t want to ruin the experience for her. So if you want to watch, and somehow enjoy, one of these frontal lobotomy presentations MAKE SURE your husband is out of earshot and, more importantly, the liquor cabinet is fully stocked!