I usually find award shows to be super boring if they’re not about me, and even then I’ve been known to fall asleep in my date’s lap, so I declined to go to (or even watch) the Golden Globes this year. Instead I scheduled my annual Ayahuasca Spiritual Journey for last night. Big mistake. While I did have an amazing hallucination involving several cartoon characters revealing the meaning of life to me (Spoiler Alert: There is no meaning), I also pissed myself. And I’m pretty sure pee doesn’t wash out of vintage Norma Kamali as well as my dry cleaner claims it does.
I bring up hallucinations because today, as I was looking over last night’s red carpet, I got confused and thought I was looking at last year’s red carpet. Is it me, or did people wear dresses that they’ve totally worn before? It freaked me the fuck out! I thought I was still tripping and that the universe was messing with me. Thankfully, my Shaman, Steve, came over and straightened me out by giving me a really intense sound vibration massage with his didgeridoo, then stuck around to go through the photos and give his spiritual feedback on everyone’s looks. These are Steve’s thoughts:
The following people are “suffering from brown auric energy and are not to be trusted”:
Ladies, if you’re reading this, Steve recommends that you sage-cleanse your bodies, minds, wardrobes and houses. Ring a bell for good luck.
He refused to believe that Rosie Huntington-Whiteley was a human and not a statue.
And claimed that Jennifer Lopez has “reached her final karmic life cycle, and it is one of youth, but also one of pain and sadness.”
He agreed with me that Hayden Panettiere had definitely had a nose job in the past year or so, and surmised that she’s also gone through a “colonic journey.” Whatever that means.
This photo of John Hawkes made him pass out. When he came to, he claimed that John “looked directly into his soul and saw him for what he truly was.”
And then I saw this photo and the same thing happened to me.
Then Steve made a mint-kombucha elixirs for us with and added a little vodka and a crushed up Xanax to both of them, because we “needed protection.” Okay.
According to Steve, the following ladies souls burn brighter than the strength of 1,000 suns:
(Steve is obsessed with Homeland, so obvi he’d say that)
He praised Raf Simons’ return to Saturn.
And swears he felt McQueen’s ghost winking at him.
And then he was “cosmically blinded.” Apparently it’s known in the shaman community that the sight of Anne Hathaway causes adverse spiritual reactions.
Then he was angry at me for showing him that picture, so he left. I’m still in bed. It’s been an exhausting day.