And the Oscar for best name stealing bastard goes to…

Heath Ledger! Oh, how I doth despise thee, Ledger! Thous hast pre-empted me in becoming the first big “Heath” celebrity. Each vile word from his userping mouth on the red carpet last night stung like someone slowly dripping acid onto my forehead. He’ll rue the day! Rue, I say! There will be rueing! Not nearly enough rueing these days.
Of course I had to have my annual bout of Oscar longing, where I watch the oscars with an underlying yet throbbing melancholy, feeling like I’m peering through a window into the world where I should be living. I must have been famous in some past life or something, because the feeling is just too strong.
Billy Crystal rules, and I loved Will Ferrell and Jack Black singing the lyrics to that music that plays when an acceptance speech is too long and they want you to shut up and get off the stage. I wish I could remember it all. People.com had part of it posted:
“This is it, Your time is through, You’re boring.
“… No need to thank your parakeet You’re boring. Look at Catherine Zeta-Jones, she’s snoring …”