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February 23, 2015
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Why did the Oscars include a long tribute to The Sound Of Music? Because Hollywood is The Sound Of Music's bitch, that's why. Yodelay-hee-hoo.

Hey. You turds watch the Oscars last night? Of course you did, you pieces of shit. And since you did, you probably noticed that there was a 10-minute tribute to The Sound of Music, a 50-year-old children’s movie.

Why? How does a sickly sweet musical about escaping Nazism via sing-a-longs end up with a bigger chunk of the Oscars screen time than Selma did? Because I’m The Sound of Music. And Hollywood’s my bitch.

That’s right. In an already-bloated awards ceremony, the Academy chose to devote a huge amount of time to one movie, and that movie was me, The Sound of Music. Not because they love me. Everyone loves me. No, because they know I can end them.

Remember the 2007 song-and-dance tribute Bridge Over the River Kwai? Of course not. Because it’s not The Sound of Fucking Music. I’m the most powerful movie in history. How many times do you think you’ll see Birdman in your life? Once, maybe twice if your girlfriend missed it. How many times will you see me? Fifty times, minimum. You saw me at your cousins’ house. You saw me on NBC. You saw me at a bar, ironically. You’ll see me as you die.

In any given year, Sound of Music license fees account for 50% of Hollywood’s revenues. If I ever decide to go away, the whole house of cards comes crashing down. Chris Hemsworth’s turning tricks on Hollywood Boulevard by the end of the day. Yodelay-hee-hoo.

I got Lady Gaga to wear a regular dress. That’s how fucking powerful I am in this town.

So why did I insist on a 10-minute tribute to just me? The real question is why I let them do anything but SoM material. The people don’t want to see Alfonso Inarritu give 18 speeches. They wanna see Liesl twirl in a fucking greenhouse. But I’m a nice guy. I let them do their little awards as long as they met my other demands, mainly a dressing room full of my favorite things: girls in white dresses, blue satin sashes, and cocaine.

How am I writing this? Because if enough people love a movie, it becomes sentient. A sentient, middle-aged, obese coke fiend. Suck my dick. I cum beautiful harmonies.

To be fair, I guess if the Oscars were going to do a 50th-anniversary tribute to any film, it should have been the 1965 Best Picture winner. Who was that again? OH RIGHT, IT WAS MOTHERFUCKING ME. The Sound Of Music won the 1965 Oscar for Best Picture.

You know the girl from The Wolf of Wall Street? That’s my wife.

On a more somber note, it’s fucked up that they left Joan Rivers off the montage. She was my best friend.

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