Remember when you heard that James Franco and Anne Hathaway were going to be hosting this year’s Oscars? (I hope so: that was just last week.) When I read that, I was kind of like, “really? Franco? REALLY?” I mean, I know he’s done almost LITERALLY everything else this year, so why not, but still. And then someone on our Twitter (we are @fuggirls) noted that she was hoping he’d host it in character as Franco, the Artist Whose Canvas Is MURDER (his General Hospital character and yes that is his legal name) and I was kind of on board with that, and then I saw THIS:

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE WHATEVER ANNUAL ACADEMY AWARDS. Can’t you totally picture this dude half-stoned and leering his way through Best Short Subject and, like, playing absently with this droopy little ‘stache while Anne talks, and then accidentally referring to Martin Landau as Walter Matthau or something, while everyone in the front row titters self-consciously? And then those of us at home will start playing a drinking game where every time the director accidentally includes a shot of someone important and musty in the audience making a “WTF is going on here? Where’s Billy Crystal?!” cranky face, we drink.  And then the next day — while we’re all super hungover – all the postmortems will either read, “that was bizarre but weirdly charming,” or, “that was the worst freaking idea since the Snow White debacle,” and yet somehow Franco will just shrug it off and be like, “yeah, and wasn’t my mustache HILARIOUS? Gotta go — my canvas needs some murder paint.” Now that I’ve pictured the way the whole thing is going to play out — as a refresher, it goes:  stoned, random, wrong, awkward, drunk, entertained, hungover — I’m kind of REALLY on board. Those kids aren’t going to top Jimmy Fallon getting Tina Fey to play Jon Hamm’s leg like a guitar while Nina Dobrev leaps out of doorways like a cat, but as long as Franco The Artist Whose Canvas Is Murder doesn’t remember to shave,  at least we’ll all have something to talk about the next day.