I was lazy this week, and so I didn't write my column until after the Academy Awards. On Sunday. For the first time ever. And I bet ABC still didn't beat 60 Minutes. I watched, beers and pizza down the hatch.

You may notice that there is no trademark symbol after each mention of the word "Oscar". I don't know the ASCII for that thing, and even if I did, I wouldn't use it. So there.

My own personal awards:

The Jack Palance/Cuba Gooding Jr. Award for Excellence in Acceptence:
Roberto Benigni, for jumping up on the back of chairs and groping Sophia Loren (unfortunately, Helen Hunt flinched). Somehow, I don't this can be topped. Maybe if Jim Carrey wins. Maybe.

Best achievement in gratuitous bawdiness:
Whoopi Goldberg, who managed to invoke "shit" twice, beaver (in a non-rodential fashion) once and cranked through a slough of wonderfully distasteful jokes all evening.

Best line of the evening:
Chris Rock, for "They'd better keep Robert DeNiro away from Elia Kazan. You know how he feels about rats." A side note: DeNiro and Martin Scorsese presented Kazan with a special award. A close second: Robin Williams, for "There is nothing like a Dame," announcing Dame Judi Densch's win for Best Supporting Actress.

Worst hair:
Andi McDowell, winning for a record fiftieth straight year.

Best dress of the night:
With perennial winner Ashley Judd off watching Kentucky lose in the NCAAs, we were left with Jennifer Lopez, Geena Davis (the one she wore at the awards, not the cheesy lead-in), and Sophia Loren. As my wife Barbara keeps telling me, the old chicks know how to wear a dress. Sophia Loren wins, hands down.

Best looking dude of the evening:
Always a weird race, because with the exception of Kevin Spacey's excessive tails a couple years ago, most guys dress almost alike. Jim Carrey looked good in basic black, but the flamenco dancer (sans shirt) takes the prize.

Weirdest moment of the evening:
Watching Peter Gabriel croon "That'll do, Babe." From "Solsbury Hill" to this? Unbelievable. A close second: Watching Peter Gabriel and realizing he looks frighteningly similar to Anakin Skywalker after the mask came off.

Best perk of winning the Oscar for best picture:
You get to kiss the pretty people who starred in the movie. Julia Phillips first noted this, commenting on the night she won as a producer of The Sting (you know, Robert Redford AND Paul Newman). All five producers got a healthy smooch from Gwyneth on their way to the stage. Too bad Joe Fiennes didn't bother to show.

The "Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly" award:
Jack Nicholson, for his cozy escorting off-stage of Miss Paltrow after she snatched her statue for best actress.

Best "We'll have none of that sentimentalizing" moment:
Handing off an Oscar to James Colburn before most folks even sat down to watch.

Best movie that didn't win an Oscar:
Bulworth, Bulworth, Bulworth. Still my favorite movie of the year, though I have to admit that Shakespeare in Love was pretty good.

Best feature that should have been a short:
Saving Private Ryan. After those first 24 minutes (perhaps the best 24 minutes in movie history, the sort of thing made for stadium seating and THX sound), the thing just got lost in a sea of cliches and crap.

Worst idea by some flunkie:
Having Val Kilmer drag a horse onto the stage.

And finally, Best beer to drink while watching the show:
I chose a 1999 Murphy's Irish Stout (in the special draught-style cans), a nice dry selection which pleasantly countered the sweetness of the pizza sauce.

Jon Worley doesn't watch the Oscars every year. Only when there's beer involved.