winner – who is sam jarvis

Ah, to win an Emmy. (Somewhere in the Hollywood Hills Emmy Rossum throws her clenched fists into the air as she quotes Princess Jasmine- “I am not a prize to be won!!”)

We start off with Andy Samberg’s musical number about how he’s watched every single show on TV this year, except he leaves out the one he actually fucking stars in, Brooklyn Nine Nine. You play detective Jake Peralta, remember? His opening monologue is very TOPICAL but let’s be real, I don’t need to hear another Kim Davis joke for the rest of my life. Over her, over her long ass hair.

The first category is supporting actress in a comedy series, and there are SO MANY NOMINEES. I mean, holy shit. It’s like you’re having a super cool birthday party and only want to invite a few girls but have to include everyone in the class because you’re in 2^nd grade and that’s just how it’s done.

Allison Janney wins, which is great because she’s been one of my faves since 10 Things I Hate About You when she played a principal writing an erotic novel and she kept referring to the guy’s dick as his quivering member. “Judith! What’s another word for engorged?”

Veep wins for writing, and also for supporting actor in a comedy series. As Tony Hale walks up to accept his award, the narrator chick (who usually says things like, “This is Tony’s second win and third nomination”) instead shares this fun factoid: “He was so excited about his nomination that he forgot to take his daughter to camp.” Um, cool story, bro. Do you really think that when Tony motherfucking Hale sits at home and replays his Emmy moment on the DVR he wants to hear you talk about how he forgot to take his child to camp? (I hope none of these people ever “replay their Emmy moment.”)

Jill Soloway wins for best comedy director for Transparent, and this bitch right here walks up and immediately thanks Goddess. Fuck yes, girl. You do you. Jimmy Kimmel eats the envelope for comedy actor, which is given to Jeffrey Tambor.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus of course crushes it for Veep, and it’s here that I realize she DOES NOT AGE. Like, at all. Is not currently aging. Do we know what type of moisturizer she uses? Is it at all possible that she bought it for less than ten dollars at CVS? No? K.

We’re onto the Limited Series or Movie category, which I am totally confused about until it dawns on me that they used to be called Mini Series. Guys, it’s fine to keep calling it that, it’s not like the word “mini” diminishes the ten thousand famous actors in it and makes it less special. Stop mystifying me with your word trickery.

So, what IS an Olive Kitteridge? Something we should all be watching, I take it. Everyone who ever did anything for that shit wins an Emmy, including my home girl Frances McDormand who continues to be DOPE AS HELL.

PS, um, the Emmys were sponsored by the movie The Intern? Seems a TINY bit ironic that a movie is funding the biggest celebration of television in the world. Everybody’s all like fuck movies!! Movies suck! …Except The Intern, in theaters September 25^th.

Also the screen on stage is SO FUCKING HUGE that these people might as well be watching this shit from home. They’re all just staring at this fucking screen! Do you see Andy Samberg in the bottom left? That is how outrageously humongous this screen is. I cannot get over it.

We must have moved into Variety Series, because now The Daily Show is winning everything. Someone I used to work with wins an Emmy and although this is great news for him I feel physically ill and think I am going to throw up. (“Just because I’m sitting on my couch doesn’t mean I am less successful.” -something I will repeat to myself as I down another vodka tonic and contemplate my dwindling checking account.)

Hmm, I wonder what category we’re onto now? If only there was some sort of visual cue to help me understand…

Game of Thrones wins for writing, Peter Dinklage for supporting actor. Uzo Aduba wins for supporting actress and CRIES A LOT. She is adorable, but that speech was a little cray cray. I am not the only person who feels this way because suddenly my phone is buzzing next to me as I cram another wedge of brie into my mouth.

Responding in Bitmojis is really the only way to live. Anyway Viola Davis wins best actress, and Jon Hamm finally wins a fucking Emmy after SIXTEEN NOMINATIONS and this is how he gets up on stage:

Beautiful. Veep and Games of Thrones are the big series winners, but really in my heart of hearts the winner is me because I get to see Tracy Morgan present an award. I LOVE YOU TRACY, YOU ARE A SHINING STAR IN THE GALAXY OF LIFE.

The main things I took from the Emmys were: an extreme sense of envy, and the realization that walking a red carpet in 100 degree weather is fucking funny to watch (SO much blotting) and next year the Emmys should take place on the surface of the sun.

Everyone in their thousands of dollars worth of crap silently cursing about how badly their thighs are chafing? Count me in.

Check out more of my show recaps here.

Look I wasn’t planning on watching this shit, but once my boyfriend fell asleep on the couch my eyes got dark and I rubbed my hands together and suddenly I was cackling, “Yes… SLEEP!!!” and nestling in for the ride of a lifetime.

As soon as these girls start filing out all I can think about is how amazing all of their arms are. I mean, Jesus. Someone’s been juice cleansing. These girls introduce themselves one by one and with names like Savannah Morgan Lane, they were born for this shit. I bet she was one of those pageant children with the VERY WHITE fake teeth.

They go through everybody but keep cutting back to Chris Harrison for 10 seconds at a time so you don’t sit there in complete shock by how many fucking states there are in this great nation. There are SO MANY STATES. It’s honestly incredible.

Now they all walk out together and it’s the Victoria’s Secret fashion show for basic bitches. Sorry ladies, that’s just how the low-carb cookie crumbles. Also everyone looks 30 to me.

Time to meet the judges. Country singer Bret Eldredge, the widow of Chris fucking Kyle, Winnie from Wonder Years, Mr. Wonderful, Amy Perdy, and Zendaya. Really? THESE are the random assortment of “celebrity” that decide the fate of these girls? They’ve worked their actual entire lives for this and you’re letting Chris Kyle’s WIFE decide?

But wait, there is another judge (say this in your Oprah voice): Vanessa WILLIAMS!! She immediately walks out and starts singing. I didn’t actually know about the 1984 Miss America scandal until this week and just always thought she was the first African-American Miss America, the end. Turns out some NSFW pics had leaked of someone licking her butthole and she had to give up her title. Juicy! (Literally? Bleh.)

So after her song this guy from the Miss America corporation comes out and APOLOGIZES TO HER but really I don’t think they need to apologize at all. Had she not gone on to be literally the only Miss America anybody knows, I think they would’ve been like Vanessa Williams who? Oh, the girl who had butthole licking pics? Yeah we stand by our decision.

Anyway they announce the top 15 and then immediately play Tori Kelly’s Should’ve Been Us as the losers walk off stage. I am now laughing out loud. We’re on to SWIMSUITS!! I almost wake my boyfriend up but then I’m like eh, better not.

Swimsuit is 10% of the final score, and they’re all in full coverage bottoms like it’s 1992. They’re also model-walking to the music and it looks like they’re trying to hold a piece of paper between their legs. The judges faces as they watch these hotties are PRICELESS:

We’re going next to evening wear, but not before checking out some classic spray tan armpits as the girl’s names are called. You may want to sleep with these women but my God make sure it isn’t in your bed or those sheets will be Cheeto-orange in no time.

They walk out in evening gowns and I’m going to be honest with you, they’re bad. But they aren’t judging the gowns, they’re judging their poise and grace. Miss South Carolina Daja Dial fucking nails it and has the best dress and the crowd goes wild.

TALENT TIME!! Yes. Yes. We start with some very “eh” talents. No getting around that. A dancer, a singer who is slightly flat the entire song. But THEN, THEN, this bitch comes out in Belle’s yellow gown and sits down at the piano and fucking slays it. And yes, they have someone in a ball gown, playing piano, while a blurb pops up about her wanting to be an organic chemistry professor. It is at this point that I realize none of these girls smoke weed, ever.

Another girl stands up there in scrubs and the second I hear the words “original monologue” I know we’re in trouble. She talks about a dude with Alzheimer’s, it’s sweet, but now I’m just getting mad. Um, I didn’t know your talent could be story telling? If I had, I would’ve started doing these things a LONG time ago so I could go on and on about the time I was playing with Barbies and my mom walked by and saw me throwing all of Ken’s shit out of the third story of my Barbie townhouse while I screamed, “Get the hell out, Ken!!” Now THAT, is what I call an original monologue.

Finally it’s QUESTION TIME, 20% of your score. All I’m thinking about is Miss Congeniality and the girl describing her perfect date as April 25th. “All you need is a light jacket!”

Someone says they want Ellen Degeneres on the ten dollar bill, which is a “cute” answer but she is god damn lucky because everyone else’s questions are really fucking intense. Planned Parenthood, Black Lives Matter, it’s all very TOPICAL.

Miss Georgia is asked about Tom Brady’s cheating scandal and ironically enough she, in my opinion, CHEATS while she answers. She goes, “I’m sorry I didn’t hear the question, can you repeat it?” Um, you didn’t hear the question? More like you want him to repeat it so you have double the amount of time to think about your answer. I’m sorry, I’m standing firm on this. As soon as you hear the word “deflategate” you know what the fucking question is.

Now I’m starting to think Brooke Burke should win this thing. Girl looks AMAZING and literally better than all of these other women.

Last year’s winner has to do one final walk before she gives up her crown and she looks pretty bummed about it. Once you’re no longer Miss America do you just sit in your house wearing your sash and eating popcorn? Who can answer this for me?

It’s crown time and there are FOUR runners up which seems a little absurd. But the winner is… MISS GEORGIA, BETTY CANTRELL! I can’t believe someone who was born IN THE NINETIES is named Betty, but okay.

Here is how this winning shiz goes down (pretend it’s a glorious flip book):