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West Coast Report: Straight Outta Compton, it’s the Kids’ Choice Awards!

West Coast Report: Straight Outta Compton, it’s the Kids’ Choice Awards!

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Being a student at USC has some big perks; chief among them is being able to attend the orange carpet (see what they did there??) for the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards, that annual orgy of slime (or “undisclosed green liquid,” as subsequent research confirms it to be), aspiring basic-cable pop stars, and overly media-saturated tweens. Or, to put it more concisely, the cultural watershed of the year. Needless to say, I was front and center to live-tweet the shit out of the orange carpet scene and its pulsating star power.

“But I don’t follow @rkearney892 on Twitter!” you all may say.

To which I reply, “Fear not! The night’s events shall be recapped in article form lest you miss the chance to live vicariously through my celeb-filled existence!”

For those of you who have lost touch with the Nick universe as time passed (read: every one of you here), you may have a tough time adjusting to some of the changes that I discovered. For example, Rosie O’Donnell is no longer considered a kosher host for a children’s awards show! I know, right?! Also, the A-Teens were not nominated in a single category this year. Apparently kids have moved on. Go figure. You will be relieved to know, however, that the same sense of whimsy and vapid tweeny-bopper culture is as potent as ever. But I digress. Without further adieu, the play-by-play of the KCA2012 Orange Carpet:

The evening got off the ground on a fairly slow note, at least for the 19 year-old males in the crowd of gawkers (read: me and only me). While the kiddies around me chanted eagerly for BTR! BTR! (that’s Big Time Rush, a Nick-manufactured pop group) to arrive, they were temporarily satisfied by the presence of someone named “Ariana.” You may say to yourself, “who the fuck is Ariana and why is every girl shrieking ‘we love you Ariana!’” And I answer, not sure, but the Internets tell me that she is a cast member on the popular show Victorious, starring the very lovely Victoria Justice (more on her later). But then shit got real. Cody Simpson, that’s right, the Cody Simpson, AKA the Australian Bieber, graced the carpet, looking charming as ever. Swoon. With the frequency of obscure (or thrilling, depending on what millennium you were born in) Nick cast members arriving getting faster and faster, Phase Two of the orange carpet experience was ready to launch.

And what a violent phase it was! Like some Tea Party Patriots rockin’ their tri-corner hats and waving their oh-so-clever “Stop Obamunism” signs, these bitches were whipped into a frenzy. They booed the shit out of the riders the decrepit L.A. public school buses for blocking the view; they whipped out their totes adorbs homemade signs professing their love for [insert pop star here], blocking everyone’s views; and they started shrieking. Oh, did they start shrieking. By the time One Direction(look it up) showed up in their classy British car as if they were the Beatles’ grandkids, the fine line between rapture and riot was growing ever-fuzzier. What would happen with this rowdy bunch of tykes???

Thankfully, they got the worst out of their system following the big entrance of 1D (That’s One Direction, and not “Wendy,” as I initially thought they were chanting). And the arrivals just kept getting better. Miranda Cosgrove, surprisingly bashful! Jeanette McCurdy, taking pictures back at the audience! Victoria Justice, as classy and down-to-earth as you’ve no doubt assumed she’d be! And the show was even kind enough to invite Allyson Stoner, whose career peaked kissing baby Taylor Lautner in Cheaper by the Dozen 2, and Jesse McCartney, bless his heart, whose entrance may have been the finest example of *crickets chirping* in modern times. Poor guy. Jesse’s extinguished flame aside, though, things could not be going more perfectly at the orange carpet.

Then disaster struck.

Perhaps out of pity for my followers, God stepped in and sapped my phone of all power. That’s right, at the single most important live-tweeting moment of my career, I was rendered impotent. I mean, how could my awesome celeb sightings possibly be legitimate if they weren’t showed off to everyone I know?? They couldn’t.

Making the situation even more heinous (you’re welcome, Sherman Ave) was the sheer caliber of the stars that showed up while I was off the grid. Katy Perry in a shitty blue dye job! Heidi Klum, sans Seal! Josh Hutcherson, AKA Peeta from the Hunger Games, savoring the attention like a mofo! Nick Cannon and Chris Rock (da fuck?)! Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield, in an entrance that gave me a total Spidey-gasm! The spawn of Smith, Jaden and Willow, with the trademark family swag! And the High Priestesses of teendom themselves, Selena Muthafuckin Gomez and Ashley Tisdale, best friends as you always dreamed they’d be! How oh how could the world know that I saw all of these people??

Thankfully the good sirs at Sherman Avepicked up on my musings, and offered me the chance to share them with the whole Wildcat world. And you are all very lucky that they did. So that’s the story of my Kids’ Choice 2012 Orange Carpet excursion. You have now gotten to live the star-studded, slime-filled life vicariously through me. I would express my hope that this enhanced your KCA experience, but real talk, you’re all like 20 and it was a Saturday night. So I know weren't watching. But thanks to me, you didn’t even have to!

And for that, you’re welcome.

-Ryan Kearney

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