Therefore, it lies with Potty-Puss Priscilla to enliven today's blinded bad-*** report. It involves duplicity and damning words, two of my favorite things to report on in Hollywood, besides errant erections and heaving bosoms behind bathroom stalls. See, Ms. P.P.P. is—on the very public one hand—telling folks how mucho honored she is to be acknowledged by the Academy.
Then, on the other—not so private—digit set, P3 is busy blasting the “unseemly” rat race of it all. She considers the whole Oscar showdown a “sham,” as if we're all “greyhounds chasing a rabbit,” she's said to amigas, privately.
Now, isn't it sweet, too divine, really, that Ms. P.'s all but certainly going to be up on that stage, come Oscar night, giving the best artistic showing of her career—as in pretending she's actually humbled by all this Academy Award nonsense.
I´m thinking Penelope Cruz
