Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll has a contribution to make to OSCARS SO STUPID. She writes:

Yes. I know that it’s March now and the Oscars were last month. But the has-been celebrities continue to attack, so I thought a never-was columnist should fight back.

A few years ago, the Wokest of the Wokesters had serious complaints about the Oscars’ lack of black nominees. Several people boycotted and dubbed them #OscarsSoWhite. At no time did any of the complainers indicate exactly which paleface nominees should have been eliminated and which nominees of some other color should have been nominated in their place. But surely the raaacist “fix” had to be in, somehow, someway. Because, reasons.

I probably haven’t watched the Oscars for at least twenty years. Usually I had seen one or two of the nominated movies at most. And the dreary speeches kept getting longer and longer and more and more political. And even though for at least a couple of those early years, I probably favored the same politicians and causes as the droning pontificators, I still found it just plain inappropriate in a venue that was supposed to be celebratory, not hectoring. Like most sane people, I have a visceral hatred of being lectured, whether by Joaquin Phoenix or Sasheen Littlefeather.

To save time in future Oscar speechifying, I have compiled a batch of appropriate short speeches on spec. Have no fear, starlets of all genders, about plagiarizing. What do you do, anyway, but memorize dialogue that someone else has written for you?

Separate an actor from a writer and you’ve got Jussie Smollett writing his own script for a hate crime hoax. Dave Chappelle claimed that even black people didn’t buy it. I have tremendous respect for Robin Roberts, but COME ON, MAN! Did she really believe his preposterous tale? Cory Booker, Kamala Harris, sure; but Robin seems both smart and sane.

We’ve all experienced watching a celebrity flounder on The Tonight Show. But.. but… but… that actress plays a smartie-pants in her sitcom! How can she be such a boring dunce? Because she’s ACTING. She has large breasts and a pretty face. What was that fetching and wildly-inaccurate turn of phrase Mike the Tyke used about farmers? Oh yeah, they don’t need a lot of “grey matter.” Heck, without James Woods in the house, the collective IQ at the Oscars was instantly cleaved (cloven?) in half.

So, here we go. I submit, as a community service:


See what you made me do? I have shaved my head, but not, as you can see, my armpits. As my heroine Greta said: How DARE YOU? How DARE YOU? We have just 8 years, 4 months and 22 days left before it’s too late to save Gaia, our Earth Mother, even though I am totally pro-choice on Motherhood. So if Mother Earth wants to abort us all, well, that’s cool. Fat people, who should nevertheless not be body shamed, are drinking 64 ounce Big Gulps and wearing fur. Straws, people! Little children are using straws! Everything is terrible.

(Deep breath, emphasizing cleavage…regaining control): But I have a job to do here. Soooo…The 5 nominees for Best Picture of the Year are: Donald Trump, Satanic Putin-Loving Hitler; Diverse Scrawny Women with One Fat One Save The World; Diverse Scrawny Women with One Fat One Fight Climate Change; Diverse Scrawny Women with one Fat One Bust Ghosts, and De’LaJa’Queene Bond, Transgender Black Lesbian 007.


Eff Trump. (Expect wild applause). No, really, Eff Trump. I would like to eff Trump and throw poo in his face and dump wee-wee on his head and shoot him and behead him and stab him. Because Hitler. Literally Hitler. Never mind that Hitler is literally dead. Never mind that I don’t know what “literally” means. I want to take Trump out behind the barn and open a big can o’ whup-ass upon him and …I see some insignificant nobody is waving a sign, trying to tell me my time is up. God, these lift shoes are killing me – how DO women walk in heels? Now I don’t have time to read the nominees for Best Actor. Their names have been in all the trades anyway. Hey, remember, it’s an honor just to be nominated. Just eff Trump. That’s the important thing.


Oh my God, you guys. I never expected I would beat all those other women pretending to smile right now. Sisters! We ALL won, even though, technically, I am the one with the Oscar and you are not. I would like to thank everyone – you know who you are, it’s hardly important to mention you by name, as my time here is so limited by sexism and white supremacy – but everyone who gave me the opportunity to play this important award-winning role in this brave and important movie. It was, like, about something brave and empowering and courageous and important with women, women, women of every color and gender in it. Who cares if nobody went to it? The important thing was, like, you know, the courage. And my award.

It was, like, totally worth killing a baby to win this award. (Expect standing ovation.)


There are no good roles for women over 23 and I never once objected to this back when I could pass for 23. But now I am 53, uh, 53-ish, and I feel it is of profound importance to mention the lack of roles for older women who still have giant pouty lips and perky, if rock solid breasts. I have chosen to wear this cape I had my housekeeper, Maria, embroider. No, wait, she quit; it was Luz or Lupe, whatever. The cape displays the names of some women directors you have never heard of to show how hip I am. Sure, I have never used a woman director when I have had anything to say about it, because then I wouldn’t be the Queen Bee on the set. But, hey, the cape! Look at me making a statement! Just LOOK AT ME!! I have eaten nothing but kale for two weeks to fit into this g****** dress! Stop talking to each other and LOOK AT ME, G**d*&%it!