After being stuck in the proverbial weeds for the last week or so. I wish it was something as simple as being on the injured list because I fell while wearing ugly ass shoes. Instead, I was without WiFi and television for a week and oh baby, am I dreading my cell phone bill. The plan may say unlimited data, but they’ll find a way to stick it to me like I fell over while wearing ugly ass shoes….
With that out of the way, let’s make the big prediction for Sunday night.
Are you ready for it?
Well, here we go…..
My big prediction is that the 91st Oscars are going to suck. It’ll be a long, joyless night where Peter Farrelly will yell multiple times at us about how we just have to talk and listen to each other. A night where a third rate impression that wouldn’t even get a callback for Mad TV is going to win an award. My only hope for the night is that if John Bailey makes an appearance on stage, he’ll get roundly booed by the audience. In a better world, some people would turn their back to Bailey and give him the ole one gun salute.
It’s going to suck and I may be planning a trip to see Alita in a theater all by myself.