The Oscars are this weekend, and I still hate celebrities

All of them. I hate them all.

It is no secret that in today's society being famous requires only a pulse. And in the case of Anna Nicole Smith, that isn't even a necessity. In fact, she is probably more famous for dying than for anything she ever 'accomplished' in life. But I digress, I will not do the growing 'celeb' community the favor of actually writing about their utterly meaningless existence in detail. I simply wish to explain why I loath them all so much.

Last night I saw a short clip of a new show on VH1 called "Shooting Sizemore." I don't know if you people know this, but this actor Tom Sizemore (who was actually pretty good in Saving Private Ryan and Heat) , dated Heidi Fliess and has smoked crack rock for most of his career. He is broke, his hair is falling out and he is doing a reality show to make money.

The point here is that celebrities can now make money off of being degenerate drug addicts (I believe Danny Bonaduce did the same thing). Does anyone else see a problem with this?? This is something that is, in general pretty reprehensible and anti-social. To profit from this seems, I don't know...pathetic? Disgusting? Iditotic? I am at a loss.

Then there are the "real" celebs. The big earners. Julia Roberts, Brad Pitt, Nicole Kidman. People who have real talent and big time box office draw. I hate them as well. I hate these people because of their overinflated sense of self importance. Goddamn they are smug! I mean who rents out an African country just so they can have a baby there!?! Not to mention, almost all of these people are complete morons who confuse celebrity status with political knowledge (read: Tim Robbins, Sean Penn, Angelina Jolie, Brat Pitt, any character represented in the Film Actors Guild in the movie Team America: World Police). Just stick with the acting OK? Jesus H. Tittyfucking Christ.

Worse than Sizemore or "big" celebrities like Brad Pitt, Julia or Clooney, (who at least are talented actors) are no talents who just want to get noticed. Any reality show contestant who got 'kicked off the island' and finagled a soap opera cameo or Oprah appearance falls into this category. Ian Bernardo, a person with no discernible ability at anything and who is obnoxious to the point where it actually oozes from his pores, is the most obvious example of this. This guy was on American Idol for about 15 seconds. Yet, he seems to think that his NY accent, flamboyant homosexuality, JAPiness and skeletal look make him good celebrity material. Its as if he has somehow become intoxicated by the stink of his obnoxiousness. Be back in 5, I have to go vomit to punish myself for burning energy thinking and writing about this waste of space.

I feel much better now, thanks for bearing with me.

Now, I am brought to the absolute worst of the worst of the celebrity scum pile. This is the so called 'media element.' Included in this category is anyone who runs a gossip report, celebrity mag/blog/website and the TV show Entertainment tonight (which BTW had a total coke head for a host). Its not that they make a living out of stalking and harassing people. Its not even that they are amoral douche bags who couldn't get respectable jobs in journalism. You know what bothers me the most about these people? Its that they are basically just as self important as the assholes they follow around, but bring even less to the table and to society. Basically all they care about is being close to rich spoiled smug fools. I mean they get off on associating with celebrities.

I seriously can't think of anything worse than someone who spends all of thier time trying to get close to rich morons.

Until next time.

KMS

Have you ever had a 3 day hangover?

I have.

In fact I just recovered yesterday. I do think, however, that this particular hangover was exacerbated by the negative 20 degree weather in Chicago and the crushing heartbreak that is Rex Grossman.

Don't worry, that's the last time I'll mention HIS name in this post. God he sucks.

Superbowl Sunday is to blame for not only horrible disappointment, but the most awful and terrible hangover of my young life.

It began innocently enough, Saturday night, grabbing some Sushi with friends at a local place. I thought that it was going to be a nice dinner, with a few Kirin Ichibans and some delicious spider rolls. And it was, my buddy even graciously picked up the check at the end.

If you are like me, and I'm assuming that you aren't because I'm pretty bitter, you realize at some point of your Superbowl/reuniting with friends weekend getaway that you face a choice. You can A) Enjoy the weekend, have a few drinks, socialize, eat some good food, watch the Superbowl and get up fresh on Monday for your flight back to DC, and even make it to work or you can B) send yourself throttling down an alcohol infused bobsled ride of self destruction that is probably illegal in Utah.

Wanna guess which choice I took?

It started when we ordered that first Sake carafe. By the end of dinner, we were all in agreement that 1) the food was delicious and 2) we were drunk.

But it didn't stop there, we bounced from bar to bar that Saturday night, gleefully downing shots of tequila and grand marnier, and washing 'em down with an assortment of beers.

Funniest gambling moment of the evening:
We were watching the end of the Bulls Blazers game at a bar on Clark Street, when we noticed that two Asian fellows were cheering particularly hard. We enquired to what is this voracious applause due? They responded that they had a grand on the game, the and took the Bulls plus 3.5. There were 4 seconds left and Ben Gordon had just hit two free throws to put the Bulls up by 4. "Rejoice!" they exclaimed, for truly the game was over. The Blazers had no chance of winning, and that G of winnings was gonna be buying us some shots.

They may of not had a chance of winning, but they did have a chance to make a meaningless shot, which they did, a two pointer, right as the red light went on. Sorry Asians.

Needless to say, we were hung over the next day. But the BEARS were in the Superbowl and this is Chicago dammit! We did what any self respecting person would do, and began the next day with delicious Bloody Mary's and keg beer.

Needless to say this continued all day long, with a few Beam and Cokes tossed in for good measure, and into the night.

And then, the buzzkill that was the Superbowl happened. The party cleared out fast after that. I was not to be deterred though, because this was Chicago dammit, and...well...it was really fucking cold!

What can I tell you? I ended up out till 4 am, all my friends abandoned me at the bar. As I was trying to leave, I noticed that my jacket was missing, I was loaded so I gave up after a brief search and decided that my Jim Flannigan jersey would be all the cold protection I needed.

As I was leaving the bar, some guy came up and asked me for a smoke. Since I don't smoke, I told him I couldn't help him. There was something strange about this guy though, couldn't put my finger on it....
Wait! He was wearing my hat! And my gloves and my coat!

"Hey! Give me those you son of a bitch" I cried.

The man, dejected and caught red handed complied and skulked away.
What the fuck?!?!

Anyway, I took a cab home, drunkenly wondering how the hell I was gonna catch my flight at 9am the next day.

I caught the flight, but I seriously thought I was going to soil myself in one way or another the entire cab ride/flight home/metro ride/walk to my apartment.

And that day wasn't the end of it, the next two days were fraught with headaches, abdominal pain, the runs, sluggishness, lethargy, 20min sessions in the bathroom. I won't bore you with details. But lets just say that it was like taking two sledgehammers and smashing them against your head, while having the sound of fingernails on a blackboard in your ears and drinking an entire bottle of ex lax.

That's what I felt like for three days.

I guess there's always next year.

GO CUBS!