Charlie Sheen

I don't get Charlie Sheen's preference for porn stars.

If he was just going for a pretty face with big chichis, I think he would end up with fewer porn stars. Let's face it, people watching porn are not looking at faces.

I wonder if he thinks he'll get more sex from a porn star than a 'regular Jane.' I would think that would not be the case. I mean, they spend all day doing that at work. I would think they would come home to a horny Chuck and be all, "Awww, come on, Charlie! I just had four guys banging me for the last 6 hours! I need a break. Maybe tomorrow, ok?"

I mean, when I was in my internship, I delivered 85 babies in two months of OB/GYN. I know that the last thing I wanted to see when I got home was another vagina. If any job could turn a man gay, it's gotta be Obstetrician. The most beautiful experience in the world my butt! It's all a bunch of screaming, gushing, oozing, and juggling of the slime covered lizard that arrives ... not only do I not want to go home and see another vagina, I never want to do anything that would cause my wife to create such a mess!

I can't imagine that he's looking for status. "Look at me ... I bagged a porn star!" Right or wrong (I think most likely WRONG), people would tend to think, "Um ... how hard is that? She's a porn star ... gotta be a nympho." And while I think most porn stars would probably not be like this, I think the ones who are hanging out with Chucky are most likely in it for the money and/or exposure.

Then again, I know zero porn stars ... for all I know, they're using "porn star" as a euphemism for "prostitute," in which case it all makes sense ... Chucky is paying to have some arm candy hanging around, and probably even offer up the sexual side of the equation on demand.

Not a great financial plan, but at least it's a well defined business agreement.

The Oscars

So I wanted to say something about the Oscars, but I didn't get a chance to write yesterday.

James Franco has got to be gay. That's the only explanation I can find for his performance on Sunday night. Anne Hathaway did a great job with the material she was given (and wow! I had no idea she could sing that well!) She engaged the audience and even tried to engage James.

But he was having none of it. I mean, even if Anne had rotten teeth, a gall bladder problem and had just eaten a garlic and onion sandwich, her breath could not have been so awful that it could explain James being so intent on not looking at her. It was as if he found her mere existence disgusting and disdainful. Perhaps he skipped his Oscar after-party and hopped a plane back home so he could kiss his boyfriend and get the bad aftertaste out of his mouth.

It was also painfully obvious that he was HUI (hosting under the influence). Even in the pre-show interviews he was acting strange, and curiously enchanted by one interviewer's iPhone, as if he had never seen such a device before in his life. I would have totally understood if Anne had kept turning away from him, taking a step or two away to maintain a fresh-air zone.

One wonders if the Academy realizes they'll never recapture the great performaces of previous shows. Billy Crystal came out and showed that great performers still exist. Then they rolled a few clips from Bob Hope's (many) days as MC. They planned this look back...why don't they take their own hint? You want a good show, get a good MC, and that good MC has historically been a great stand-up comedian. Trying to go "younger and hipper" (their words, through Anne Hathaway), they'll never please anyone. They need to go with a good comedian. If you want young, may I suggest John Mulaney, Bo Burnham or Gabriel Iglesias? Bo may be a little too deadpan. I think Adam Ferrara, who is in his 40s, would be a great host and could appeal to a younger crowd. I am trying really had to think of a good female host, but Chelsea Handler has already bombed on another show, Kristen Schaal is good, but can get annoying, and I have not seen Rene Hicks, who is totally a riot, on anything in years. :-(

That aside, Thank GOD King's Speech won. I don't think I could have stomached hearing about that computer/internet related non-documentary (I refuse to even write The Social Network's title ... aww, damn it!) for another 6 months.

Now to focus on the great movies of this year!

The Missing Pizza

Okay, so in the last post I alluded to a bad experience I had ordering a pizza online. I thought, rather than leave that allusion hanging out there all dead-endy, today I should tell you about that experience.

The thing is, I love to do all my shopping online. I can do it whenever I want, as fast or slow as I want, click, and then my merchandise just arrives at my doorstep. Wow ... I just realized ... the 21st century is the Century for Agoraphobics!

Anyway, most of the things one would order online, well, one is happy if they are delivered next day, and if it takes three days, or even a week, it's no big deal. But if you order a pizza, it's because you're hungry, right? I mean, next day, or heaven forbid, three day delivery is not an option.

So a few years ago (wow ... now that I think about it, it was nearly a decade ago) I was hungry at like 10 PM, in a hotel room in an unfamiliar area, so I went online to look for the closest pizza place. Pizza Hut popped up, with a website, and even an "Order Online Now" option. So I ordered online. It said it would be about 45 minutes. Not the best, but acceptable.

So an hour later when the pizza hadn't shown up, I ended up calling the place. I was not sure at that point in the evolution of the internet if the order had even made it to a real Pizza Hut, let alone the right Pizza Hut. The manager answered. Turns out his delivery boy went on a pizza run and disappeared. He was not concerned about the pizza boy (I would have been thinking: car accident, mugging, even kidnapping or something; but that's me channeling my mother).

So I went from not sure that my order had been properly placed to order-placement-confirmed-so-why-the-hell-am-I-still-hungry-and-waiting-an-hour-later to embarrassed that I'm upset about being slightly hungry and ordering a bazillion calories to be delivered to my doorstep by a pimply faced little boy who may have been murdered trying to bring me my eight dollars worth of gluttonous sin.

Needless to say, I don't order pizza online anymore.