Oh I Wish I Were an Oscar Winner Blogger...

Some not quite live blogging after the Oscars (if I blogged during the Oscars I might have ended up with pizza or Barbera on the computer keyboard):

Adam Durwitz gives mad props to his favorite Simpsons character Sideshow Bob. Nice hair, Adam.

Jeremy Irons dresses like the head waiter at a Russian restaurant (it's been said that if you leave your shirt untucked, it's easier to hide the spilled borscht stains on your pants).

Note to Sean Penn: the Hollywood Den of the Cub Scouts needs you. They're a stick short to make a fire, so if you could just take the one out of your ass....

Who says the movie industry is out of touch? Clint Eastwood refers to Warren Beatty in his acceptance speech--that's the most love the Left has got from the Right since Bush smooched Lieberman. Oh, wait, Lieberman is as left as Oscar nominated Best Songs are good music.

So was Beyonce supposed to sing the Motorcycle Diaries song, too, but when at the last moment they learned she doesn't know Spanish, they called up Antonio Banderas, and he came to the theater without time to wash his hair?

Thanks to the formula "the Oscar goes to..." they're are no losers tonight. Well, except Michael Medved. But he's a loser every night.

And it's flat-out not true that this show means we can now in good conscience advocate assisted suicide for Marty Scorsese's Oscar hopes. (A bit of advice for Scorsese: if you never won an award directing DeNiro, the only thing you get directing DiCaprio is a name with the same sort of structure. Find a grown-up to direct.)

Please note I got through of all this without including my favorite bad joke of the night: "I can't see how Jamie Foxx can lose tonight."