Friday, April 21, 2006

and burn...

I had seen all of the films nominated for Best Picture except, of course, the winner. I finally got around to watching Crash last night and here’s what I have to report. After sitting for 2 hours in silence, the credits rolled and I looked across the couch at my roommate.
“That sucked.” He said.
“No kidding. What gives? Best Picture my ass.”
“Please tell me Brokeback is better.”
“Better and gayer.”
“Ugh, everyone sucked.”
“I know. Who’s that openly racist? It was ridiculous.”
Ludacis, even.
There was one shining performance in Crash, other than the awesome soundtrack. Michael Pena, I don’t know where you’ve been all my life and I don’t know what your neck tattoo says, but I think you are fabulous. And you, sir, are most likely the reason the over-acted, over-written and over the top Crash won the Oscar…

3 comments:

i know beth in real life said...

Yeah. He's fucking hot. Something about that wifebeater, shaved head, prison tat look. You always like what you know you're not allowed to have. I can't really imagine the locksmith fox from Crash at a Spotswood backyard barbeque drinking wine and discussing current events. Yeah.

Please move the floral arrangement. I want to show you my chiv scar.

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