Could give two shits to the wind about the Oscars this year.
And, who gives a fuck about some gross self-entitled snatch and what IT'S wearing. Don't know any of them nor would we want to. They all look alike. They're so nondescript; homogenous;dull;vapid; insipid; useless; faceless. VOMIT.
They're completely ignored by us. Our backs to them--ALWAYS!!
We are all about the men with their statues in their hands... and in their pants!!! ;) Flirting heavily with all that come our way!!
Again, what part of GAY do you NOT get??!
So many CLOSET QUEENS in here, too. The GAYDAR just keeps pinging, like in Aliens with that motion detector:
Hudson: [Knowing that the CLOSET CASES are close, Hicks and Vasquez are welding the door shut] Movement. Signal's clean. Range, 20 meters.
Ripley: They've found a way in, something we've missed.
Hicks: We didn't miss anything.
Hudson: 17 meters.
Ripley: [Checking the tracker] Something under the floor, not in the plans, I don't know.
Hudson: 15 meters.
Hicks: Definitely inside the barricades.
Newt: Let's go.
Hudson: 12 meters.
Ripley: That's right outside the door. Hicks, Vasquez get back.
Hudson: Man, this is a big fuckin' signal.
At the Vanity Fair Oscar party at the Sunset Tower (formerly The Argyle), the place settings.
Zippo lighters with a Christopher Hitchens quote on each one. A keepsake!!