In case you haven’t noticed, the Oscars are kind of a big deal in Hollywood. How big, exactly? Think of it as prom for celebrities. Stay with me here. Everyone gets dressed up in their finest and tries to bring the hottest date possible, unless you’re a loser and end up with a family member. The stars have already sat through Homecoming (the Golden Globes) and even Snowcoming (the SAG Awards) and now are ready for the final act.

Someone gets up on stage early on and tells us to thank all the technical people that made this year possible (sound mixing, visual effects, cinematography, etc.) but no one really cares about those geeks. We want to see the pretty people. Soon the supporting court is announced, a group of people nominated because they were voted class clown (Eddie Murphy), best personality (Jennifer Hudson), cutest smile (Abigail Breslin) or best abs (Mark Wahlberg).

Everyone’s favorite teacher is honored for their years of service (Prof. Scorsese most likely) and finally Prom King (best actor) and Queen (best actress) are crowned. All the other nominees pretend not to be furious, and though everyone knew who was going to win from the start, they start circulating rumors throughout the room (“That Helen Mirren is such a slut!”).

The analogy falls apart at best picture, but you get the drift. Prom was long and pretty annoying at times, but when it’s over you’ll look back and remember you had a good time. The Oscars are the same: The amount of fun you have will probably be directly proportional to how much you drink, and ultimately it’ll be a good night of shallow entertainment. Tune in Sunday at 8 p.m. to see for yourself.

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