<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3640593\x26blogName\x3dHugo+Stop\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://hugostop.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://hugostop.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-2903925045748676271', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

 



I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

I Approve Of These Links

- A Blog Supreme
- AdamRiff
- AdFreak
- Hermitology
- Losanjealous
- Piano Jazz


Monday, February 23   >>

SPEAKING OF THAT OSCAR THING

An aunt from the home country is visiting. She hasn't seen LA in, like, over 25 years. She wanted to visit and take pictures at "el Hollywood." I took her to "el Hollywood."

...last Friday.

Let me just say this: BIG FUCKING MISTAKE.

Dipshit me was exiting the 101 wondering why every block on the boulevard was rerouting traffic. Then it occurred to me that the greatest circle jerk of all circle jerks, the Academy Awards, was holding spot for the weekend.

While it was certainly a pleasant first for me to see the tourist clusterfuck that is Hollywood & Highland decked out for Oscar weekend, it was also miserable to be mistaken for some no-speaka-English fannypack owner.

Red carpet was already drawn, but with a transparent sleeve that could handle thousands of tourists and workers roaming the entire complex. The badged folk were very busy, and clearly not happy that their every move was hindered by a Russian couple or Japanese youth group clogging foot traffic. In short, never doing that again. Like, ever.

Anyway, I'd just like to thank Sean Penn for, again, ruining my chance at winning our Oscar party ballot pool. You dick, Rourke was supposed to win. ROURKE WAS SUPPOSED TO WIN. CURSE YOU, NATE SILVER -- YOU PREDICT THE 2008 PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION TO 1/1000TH OF A PERCENT AND YOU COULDN'T DETERMINE THE OUTCOME OF AN AMPAS CATEGORY!?!?!? CURSE YOU.

Our Oscars went as followed:

The Smith - Best Heroic Performance (For Participating in Operation Iraqi Freedom)
The Drew - Best Batmobile (For Having a Sick Ass Black Mustang)
The Girlfriend - Best Sound Mixing (For Talking Too Much While We All Watch TV/Film)
The Mixmaster (AKA The Tony) - Best Sound Editing (For Documenting Many a Drunken Rehearsal)
The Choe - Best Craft Services (For Being a Bomb Ass Pastry Chef)
The Bert - Best Visual Effects (For Owning Most Every NextGen Console)
The Juli - Best Choreography (For Signature Karaoke-Inspired Dancing)

...and a whole slew of others from people I haven't mentioned in this blog because, well, hm, it's probably better that way. Plus, The Sister would kick my ass.

My pad > Vanity Fair