I Will Never Stop Judging You.

Dinner table conversation dragged a little last night. So much so that the discussion eventually meandered into Oscar nominations. I suppose the only way one could explain this is that a prolonged silence allowed one to overhear the florid ejaculations of trembling Entertainment Tonight host on the television in the adjoining room. 

I fortified myself with some mashed potato, but I knew where this was heading.  Once fully underway I tried unsuccessfully to conceal my displeasure at having to engage with such a vulgar topic. I was only momentarily heartened by some green beans and the hope that a squawking magpie might be overheard outside the window thus allowing me to steer the conversation to a more sedately agreeable topic: Birds, the great winged menace we all face.

But, alas, it would seem that the moment you actually need a squawking magpie to interrupt an offensive table conversation one is not actually around.  Before I knew it the conversation gained so much steam and bewildering enthusiasm that I could have dropped dead right there on the spot and they would not have changed the subject. 

I tried my best to keep up and assisted with the pronunciation of The Banshees of Inisherin, twice before it occurred to me that the Oscars have devolved into some type of Celebrity Dress-Up Oprah Give-Away program where you get a nomination, and you get a nomination, and she gets a nomination, and Jamie Lee Fucking Curtis gets a nomination, and how about Top Gun? That one too.

Once the deranged exchange of celebrity names reached a merciful lull I decided it was the moment to share my painfully snobbish observation and this thankfully brought the idiotic topic to a close almost with as much ease as a fortuitously positioned bird.