Nip It In the Butt?

Unless you are completely immune to the media hype that always surrounds the week prior to the Academy Awards, you may be preparing to go to or host an Oscar party tomorrow night.

Ah, the glam Academy Awards! The final Stamp of Removal of the awards season until Cannes in May.

Tomorrow night we will once again place ourselves in front of a TV screen of one size or another to watch the glittery gala where the most uptight, faux-smiling group of once-relaxed and sometimes real demeanor-ed people become mere robots and/or caricatures of themselves - on the carpet of red, in their row-only seating arrangements, and/or on the stage.

Dashing and often gnashing their way around town (aka Beverly Hills) today are pro stylists from hair to brows making house-calls to Oscar-Up their uber special clients. Others already hit the salons, doctors (cough) yesterday and the day before, probably even before then, to do the Ultimate Awards Cleanup! 

Who can blame anyone who is expected to look fabulous no matter what  their age when they must go before cameras for having a little chemical peel or tiny shot of this 'n' that in all they key facial places. What's wrong with that? A few of my friends do it for a living. Go on camera, flash that bright white smile, look young, become miraculously refreshed overnight; keeping it subtle. Goes with the job.

So, today is Hustle Day prior to The Penultimate Bustle of what it will be like for the assistants, the celebs, the crew - all involved - when they awake in the morning to a minimum of 16 hours-straight activity for what trails off into a three-hour mostly yawn fest with the continuing persona roles intact after the show finally ends, when the schmoozing, boozing, sexual oozings of many a participant really begins at the annual parties of trés chic secondary red carpet paparazzi moments and entertainment reporters shoving mics in guests' faces as they try to flee into the mysterious and rarefied-air establishment where the "must be seen at" events are held.

It's always Elton John's charity event, Vanity Fair's "Elitist of the Elites" soireé now followed by Madonna's latest foray into the Popularity Contest battlefield. Vanity Fair and Elton worked it out. "Everyone" drops-in on both - if invited. Now that Madonna is strutting her Diva-Hood in what could be misconstrued as a sense of The Me-M-'Me's, My-My-My's - it's going to be an interesting night. Elton may have to sit on David to stop him from tweeting misdirections to Madge's Golden Palace of Eff-U.

Post-Oscar etiquette and PR requisite has now grown from the days of enjoying the basic celebratory party at the Governor's Ball, to the now every Limo Driver's dream night of stop-and-go grid-locked traffic between the various locales of each party - although a few are near to each other in LA-speak, the streets are busy, busy that night of all nights. Just a cab fare for a simple few blocks could be your maid's monthly salary - if you are even the littlest bit cheap.

So, as the town filled with smoke and mirrors covered in tinseled glitter prepares for its big night, it could be brought down to an honest reality by someone who has been there, done that, yet still hasn't turned his back to the World's Second Oldest Profession, and will hopefully show us a few more of his excellent acting tricks: Page Six

Enjoy your popcorn and try not to choke during a yawn!

Image via: http://www.wwaytv3.com