Where's The Phony Phactor?

Good Morning Dearest Reader,

It was a helluva night.....somewhere. It certainly wasn't in Hollywood last night for the highly anticipated Golden Globe Awards last night. The Globes, thought to be the precursor to the Academy Awards proved to be a wash from the very beginning.  A lackluster lineup of nominees as well as a rain soaked red carpet dampened the spirits and hairdo's of Tinsletown's glamazons and leading men. Yours truly was there and submits this humble report from beneath a banquet table which has become my final resting place before being ousted out by the deafening sound of the industrial vacuum cleaner as it whirs past my head. I , Dearest Reader had a birds eye as well as fish eyed view of the festivities and may I say that this lady was not impressed with anything except perhaps Sophia Loren's facial stretch marks and the fucked up rantings of the Barrymore kid trying to appear like the normal one in a sea of Botox and barbiturates. Where's the bar for Christ's sake.

   Is it me or has the CQ or Class Quotient of Hollywood plummeted to new lows to match the necklines of it's ill fitting gowns and tarnished tuxes? Acting as though it is some huge sacrifice to make a film for 400 million or pat each other on the back for being "the luckiest people in the world" seems to have replaced the celebratory phoniness of my Hollywood. We where drunks and whores hiding behind a studio that protected us and 4 times a year we would down a 5th of scotch, throw on a strapless gown, pop a Black Beauty and twitch our way through the evening, pretending to be humble in the eyes of our adoring fans. The restrooms would echo the sounds of vomiting, coke snorting and dry humping and the bar was 4 deep with boozing boys and glammed up gals. Hollywood was a mess but only we knew it. Now it's your stay in a rehab that buys you an Oscar. Sobriety gets you a Grammy and...well, fucking the director still gets you a Tony.

   As I see it, Hollywood needs a giant enema and a lesson on how to be a public nuisance. Stop trying to be humble and start being the stars that people want to see in public. Push your tits out, hold your glass up and toast to the shear ridiculousness of your lives. You are overpaid hookers with studio brass as pimps so go out there and give them a show. Throw a drink in Norma Shearer's face! Suck Brando's cock under the table with his wife seated next to him. Fuck the bartender in the walk-in. But don't stand up there and try to convince me that you would rather be in some third world country handing out water to the sick and dying or forcing your kids to live without you while you are on location in Malta for 6 months living in a 5 star hotel. Start being the phonies you get millions to be and stop being a shameless self professed do-gooder and everybody will be happier.