I’m no fan of the Academy Awards, I’ll grant you that. If I ever make it to that fabled Red Carpet, I’ve got a few words for whichever of the Rivers’ mini-cult that chooses to ask “who are you wearing tonight?”. Irrespective of that, when the author of a short story that makes it to the bigscreen doesn’t get the big “Best Picture Award” that they so dearly wanted (despite that, other than it being a much-needed mainstream film about positive homosexual relationships, was basically a cliche and boring love story at best), they probably shouldn’t write long-winded rants like this. For those who don’t wanna read the whole article, I’ll sum it up for you. *ahem*. “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
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Phebe








