- The Diary of Mitch R. Singer
- Hanging with the Goon
- The Consummate Politician Apologizes
- Rating the WWE's Roster by Their Stench
- The Esteemed Critic's Multiple Sentence Reviews
- Conan Brothers' Q&A
- Theme Park Mistress
- Hillsdale Paranormal Society
- Writer's Block
- Select Farmers Only Profiles
Monday, February 23, 2015
I Would Like to Thank...
First off, I would like to thank the Academy for going with my movie. It was obviously better than everyone else's. The special effects were better. The performances were better. The script was marvelous. Everyone had a grand time. I've had quite a few people tell me that viewing my movie changed their lives. So I'd like to pat myself on the back for making such an excellent film. I'll take your pats as well. The more pats, the better.
Next, I'm going to have to thank Beelzebub. I just met him in a club about two weeks prior to the start of filming, and although he didn't have a defined role in the production, he was the real heart and soul behind this picture. He gets a bad rap, this guy, and I can't imagine why. He's awesome to party with. He always pays everybody's tab. When Christopher was acting like a diva, Beelzebub went to his trailer and sat down with him and listened to his complaints, even though they were fucking stupid, and somehow he gets Chris to come out and start working again. The guy's a magician, I tell you. I'm naming my first child after him.
I'd also like to thank Starbucks for making such delicious coffee. With out your coffee, none of this would've been possible. I'd like to thank PornHub as well for giving me something to do during the lengthy editing process. And who can forget milk? Without milk, there's no cereal, and without cereal, I'm not eating breakfast. Thanks, milk. Keep doing what you do best.
The music is starting, which is supposed to be my cue. Well, fuck that. The music didn't just win best picture. I did. I'm going to talk as goddamn long as I please. This is Hollywood, damnit. I can barely fit my ego in this giant fucking building. You all know I think I'm better than you. So suck it, J-Law. Keep doing those Hunger Games movies and see if you're ever up here holding this trophy. Also, Neil Patrick Harris can go to hell because he was on that terrible show How I Met Your Mother which is like the worst fucking thing I've ever seen. You can take your smugness, Neil, and stick it up your ass.
Lastly, I'd like to thank God, since he made me better than all of you. I hope Beelzebub doesn't take offense to this. I personally adhere to a broad definition of the creator as opposed to an intelligent deity. God is like the sky, all right? Or space. God is like space. He's just there. But he loves me. He gave me this Oscar. So think about that, fuckers. Think about how much God loves me more than you. I'm outta this joint.