As you have probably figured out, I don't like the Oscars very much. Why? BECAUSE I DON'T GET IT, THAT'S WHY. I don't get how acting can be considered a competition, and dropping bowling balls off a freeway bridge isn't. I don't get why some people get fancy gold statues for doing their jobs, and I get a huge chunk of my stinkin' paycheck deducted because of some nonexistent thing called "Social Security"! I don't get why these actors and actresses are dressed like they're the Queen of Fancyland - especially when I saw most of them just last week in Us magazine dressed in sweats, shopping at Walmart, and digging their underpants out of their crack!
I... DON'T... GET IT!!
However, a lot of the sexiest people I know love the Oscars, so if I want to get boned that night, I better figure out a way to get with the program. I'm sure that's why so many people concoct elaborate drinking games to entertain themselves during the Academy Awards. (How else is one supposed to avoid swallowing the business end of a revolver?) That's why I've come up with my own game to play during the Oscars - and while it does have a copious amount of binge drinking involved, it also has a lot of other fun stuff, too! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present...
WM.™ STEVEN HUMP-ME'S ACADEMY AWARD™ OVERDOSE GAME™! And here's how you play:
If hosts James Franco and Anne Hathaway do a musical number right off the top, invite the host's wife to the bathroom for two bumps of coke. Bone her on the counter. Then take two more bumps of coke.
Whenever anyone mentions the film The Social Network, scream, "NERD PILE!" and throw your body on top of the nerdiest person in the room. Laugh uproariously, drink an entire bottle of vodka, stop laughing, and start loudly sobbing in the corner.
Whenever anyone at the Oscar party claims that baby movies such as Toy Story 3 deserve anything other than adult scorn, hit them in the face with a soaking, gravy-filled diaper and yell, "HERE'S YOUR DIAPER, DIAPER BABY!" Then insert two syringes of heroin.
No matter what movie wins for best picture, suddenly leap to your feet and screech at your host, "BOOYAH! I told you Black Swan would win best picture! You owe me $5,000!" If he refuses to immediately pay, kidnap his children until he does pay. Drink three Heinekens.
(If necessary, substitute boning the host's wife for the host's husband, substitute heroin for PCP-laced roofies, and substitute Anne Hathaway for Billy Crystal. I like him. He's fancy.)
Ooooh! Email's so fancy! steve@portlandmercury.com
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