What does the above picture have to do with grocery shopping? I have no idea. But when I did a google search for "I hate grocery shopping", this picture came up. So I figured I'd give this guy some mad peanut props. But I digress...
Here's something else kind of space/time continuum-ey. When I went shopping Friday afternoon, I had no idea Beth was going to do a post about grocery shopping, nor did I know I would be doing a post about grocery shopping. That is, until I happened to come across a cheese display at the local grocery store. People, it's not like I'm out looking for blog fodder everywhere I go (Okay, maybe I am just a little.), but tell me, is it's just me?:
Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast! Am I the only person who thinks this guy isn't wearing any pants? I have passed by this particular display countless times! Since I don't drink wine and I think those particular type of crackers are fairly nasty, I never really paid much attention. But please, Kroger! There are CHILDREN at this grocery store! That is just wrong on so many levels. After be ocularly accosted in the rear of the store (pun intended), I figured I had everything I wanted and some things I didn't. I composed myself and went to the check out line, paid for my groceries and headed out to the parking lot. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rings. It is my husband calling. "Are you still at the grocery store?" This means one of two things: 1) "How much longer are you going to be?" or 2) "I forgot to ask you to get me some jelly beans." On this day, it was the latter. I really didn't feel like going back to the store, as I was still visibly shaken by the pornographic cheese buttler. But since Katdish = obedient wife, I turned the car around and went back to get 3 bags of Jolly Rancher jelly beans. (They are the best.) Obviously, I didn't get a cart or a basket. I can manage 3 bags of jelly beans all by myself, thank you very much.
So guess what? They're on sale. They are ordinarily $2.99 per bag, but the sale price was 3 for $5.00. I call dh to ask him how many bags I was supposed to buy. Yep -- six. "Oh, and by the way, we also need Cheetos, saltine crackers and tortilla chips." Great! As if I don't already look like a big enough tool walking around with 6 large bags of jelly beans. Might as well go for broke. No, I do not heart grocery shopping -- not even a little bit. But the candy aisle was somewhat educational. Have you heard about the new m&m special dark chocolate candies? I always thought that because they were shiny looking, they were INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED in foil. And seriously...who has that kind of time? But no! You EAT the shiny part: Yeah. Still not so sure about that. But to end on a positive note, guess what they were selling in the bakery? (Cue the angelic, cherub choir.) Chocolate chip pumpkin muffin tops! Yum-O!
Now, that there is a muffin top I can give truly get behind.
I know I've talked about this before, but what is your blog about? Would it fit into a defined category? The kind they want you to use for those search engine thingies? If you are new to this blog, what would you say it's about? If you figure it out, please share. I'd love to know.
Here's what I've figure out: There are some incredibly gifted writers out there; able to convey concepts, ideas, visions, insight, humor and wisdom within some beautifully painted word pictures. Once in a great while, I can get within the ballpark of that realm, but mostly not. The words just travel out of my mind, down my arms, through my fingertips and into the blogosphere. I always have an idea what I'm going to write about, but the end result is sometimes completely different than what I had conceptualized. This is why I usually have 5 or 6 google docs in various stages on completion. Admittedly, I write a pretty high ratio of ridiculous crap, but there's something very liberating about writing this blog. My reader profile is undefined. I'm not writing to entertain or persuade any particular group of people. I just write. I try to be responsible and mostly unoffensive, but, like my friend Stacy from Louisville likes to say, "I have standards, I just forgot where I put them."
While lately it seems that some of my fellow bloggers have reduced the number of posts they write in a week, I seem to have increased the number I write. It's not like I'm racking my brain to figure out what to write about. Stuff just seems to be presenting itself to write. While some might be said to be suffering from blogstipation, I have the opposite affliction: bloggerrhea. Will it last? I don't know. But I'm not going to fight it. I'm just going to write. Sorry/You're welcome.
Hey, peeps! My kiddo is performing at Sea World today. Actually, his choir is performing - he doesn't have mad water skiing skillz or anything like that. Anyway, one of the judges will be accompanying me on the trip, cuz her daughter is also performing. Therefore, I am extending the deadline until whenever I get back. This should be sometime tonight. In the meantime, let me remind you that still in the running are: Jake, Tony C., Rrramone, Nick the Geek, Helen, and of course, the odds on favorite: Beth!
I don't need to tell you how skanktacular this particular prize package is. Clearly, you recognize quality, as witnessed by your loyalty to this blog! AHEM...
And now....(drum roll) here is the next group for your consideration:
Yes, Virginia there is a Skank Fairy: Greetings from the Magical Land of Miscellaneous!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen! Not only do you get two beautiful stars from the blockbuster hit "Bratz Fashion Pixies!", you also get two silver butterfly hair clips, a creepy little blue fairy, an extra skirt, wand AND a stereo radio worth literally hundreds of pennies!
I know you're saying to yourselves, "How could she possibly offer such a fine prize package in such desperate economic times as these?!" But wait...there's more!
You also will receive four cake topper bratz dolls, suitable for even the youngest wanna-be prostitot! (I realize that it is difficult to see in this picture, but trust me - the one on the far left has a precious expression that seems to say, "Oh no you di-ent!", and the one on the far right bears a striking resemblance to BonQuiQui). Plus, a tiny pillow that says "Pamper Me", a fuzzy bratz chiuaua with bobble head and all the accessories, and of course the removable pixie wings.
I know the competition will be extra tough this week. Please...no wagering! In the meantime, be thinking about possible graduation gifts for a certain young college blogger whose likeness will be up for grabs next week!
No. I didn't just pull these off my bookshelf and stack them up for a picture. These are the books that waiting patiently to be read. (This doesn't include the books that friends are borrowing that I haven't read yet.) I have started reading "Twilight" and "Look Me in the Eye". "The Joyful Christian" is more of a devotional book made up of short, mostly unrelated chapters, so that one doesn't really count towards books waiting to be finished.
I bought Twilight because I was very curious about all the hub-bub. I'll read anything by Stephen King. I have The Shack for the same reason I have Twilight - hub-bub. When I say I don't really watch television anymore, I don't do so to sound all enlightened. I honestly would rather read a book than watch TV. I spend enough time staring at a screen. AHEM!
So...What do you think I should read next? Have you read any of these? What say you?
So, apparently I'm in a bit of a non-conformity/skanktinicity groove lately. I'll shake the skanky thing as soon as I get the rest of those Bratz dolls out of my house. BTW - If you don't want me to send the leftover dolls and feet to our good friend Beth, you should probably take a bullet for her and enter the contest. I think I've gotten her pretty worked up about that -- mostly because she knows I'll do it without blinking an eye.
Stacy from Louisville is still disqualified, but may claim her giant ball of dryer lint at any time. You many enter as often as you want. These make lovely gifts for friends and loved ones and will be beautifully gift wrapped in an empty Fancy Feast cat food box and shipped directly at no extra charge. Deadline for Slutty Girlz Rock Band featuring Miss Amy Winehouse is this Saturday at 9:00 AM Central time. Here's a sneak peek at this week's group and the next two prize extravaganzas to follow: This week: Next week: And the grand finale:
As with last week's contest, I will not be judging. I really don't want to have to make such an important, potentially life altering decision for one of you lucky contestants. Ron, Tamara and Jeff will continue to judge the contest. Good luck to you all. Especially you, Beth! AHEM!
Now, back to my groove thing:
What I will never (hopefully) shake is the non-conformity groove. I'm a half-breed freak. As a kid, I thought that if only I had blond hair and blue eyes happiness would be mine. I used to put tape on my eyelids and look in the mirror to see how I would look if I was "normal". I'm way past that now (mostly). Normal is boring. Normal doesn't build character. Normal isn't funny. And seriously...these days, what is considered normal anyway? (Sorry -- little tangent there.)
As I may have mentioned before, I am not very techno-savvy. Fortunately, freaks tend to befriend geeks, so if I can't figure something out, there is always someone who can save me from my ignorance. I don't have texting on my phone. When I first saw "LOL" on a website comment, I thought it meant "lots of love". I was thinking, "Wow, that person REALLY liked that article!" I am also a dork.
And, of course, since everyone else uses this term, that automatically negates my use of it and any other text abbreviation. I just can't go there -- Talk to the hand! (again - dork)
Lately, it seems everyone's been using the sideways happy face or some version of it in their comments. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hating on the smiley face, I'm just not going to use any emoticons in my comments...Oh, well -- except maybe this one:
( I ) - yes sherri. that is a butt.
Editor's Note: I just proofread this post and laughed out loud when I re-read "I'll shake the skanky thing". I crack myself up. Sometimes not even on purpose. Whoa...this post was like blowing up a balloon really full and then letting go -- all over place! Sorry/you're welcome.
I have personal and political views that I ordinarily don't share on this blog. It's just not that kind of blog. I'm not sure what kind it is, but I know that's not it.
But my friend Kris posted this on her blog, and I wanted to share it with you. I will be participating. If you don't care for this post, that's your prerogative. But this is not the forum to debate political issues. The sanctity of life is not open for debate on this blog. Thank you.
When I say, "It's Book Review Wednesday!", what I mean to say is that I am reviewing a book, and it happens to be Wednesday. As a very profound person once said, "The creative spirit cannot be enslaved by the oppressive chains of reason and logical thinking." (Who said that? Oh, yeah...it was me.) And by "review", what I mean to say is that I highly recommend this book, because it's flippin' hilarious. (End of review.)
I will now share with you a brief passage which I hope that you will appreciate as much as I have. More so now than when I first read the book, considering that I have recently had some of the very same thoughts and conversations that Ms. Rivenbark writes about.
The princess had just graduated to a size 7 when everything went to sh*t. We headed for our favorite department store, ready to take that leap into the new world of 7-16. Bye-bye, 4-6X, I thought to myself with a tug of sadness. My baby was growing up.
And apparently into a prostitute.
"Where are the sevens?" I asked the sixty-something clerk who wore here glasses on a chain just like me.
"You're standing in 'em," she said.
Oh, no, I thought, looking around. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. "There must be some mistake," I said. "These are, well, slutty-looking. I'm talking about clothes for a little girl in the first grade."
"That's all we got."
"But these look like things a hooker would wear!"
She smiled sadly. "You have no idea how many times I hear that every day."
Okay, breathe. This is just some weird marketing experiment. Right?
I went to my second-favorite department store and was invited to peruse the awfulness that is Tweenland! A better name would have been Lil Skanks!
Sequins, fringe, neon glitter tank tops with big red lips on them, fishnet sleeves, scary dragon faces lunging from off-the-shoulder T-shirts. Whither the adorable seersucker? The pastel floral short sets? The soft cotton dresses in little-girl colors like lavender, pale pink, periwinkle blue? This stuff practically screamed SYRINGE SOLD SEPARATELY!
I get it. Now that my kid is practically of childbearing age (is six the new seventeen?) I must choose from ripped-on-purpose jeans and T-shirts that scream things like BABY DOLL and JAIL BAIT, not to mention a rather angry GIRLS RULE AND BOYS DROOL! where an embroidered flower with buzzing bee should be.
When did this happen? Who decided that my six-year-old should dress like a Vegas show girl? And one with an abundance of anger issues at that?
And why are parents buying this junk fashioned from cheesy fabrics that surely leave your dryer's lint filter full of glitter and fuzzy sequined balls?
I hope you won't take this the wrong way--you, the mom on the cell phone flipping your check card to your kid so she can buy the jeans that say SPANK ME on them --buy you're going down, b*tch.
No, really. I'm taking you out, putting you on notice, slapping some sense into your sorry *ss.
And speaking of dressing your six year old like a skank, has anyone seen this show on TLC? It literally makes me want to hunt some of these parents down and beat them to a bloody pulp! (In Christian love, of course. Always in love...)
"Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth." -John F. Kennedy
"If you see in any given situation only what everybody else can see, you can be said to be so much a representative of your culture that you are a victim of it." -S. I. Hayakawa
So, I was commenting on my buddy Jason's blog the other day that my blog roll is pretty diverse, and that with a few exceptions, many of the blogs I frequent, based upon the number of comments received, are not exactly burning up the site hit counters. The thing is, I actually like that. Not that I don't want people to read their blogs, I just like feeling like I've stumbled upon something really special that hasn't been ruined by a bunch of lemmings following each other over a cliff. (I don't even know if that comment made sense, but I'm going with it.)
One of my favorite blogs is The Wide World of Timbo. Like most of the blogs I frequent, I found this one via Stuff Christians Like. Unlike most of the commenters on SCL, he uses the Name/URL function when leaving a comment. I actually had to track him down. On my first attempt, I googled "The Wide World of Jimbo", which is something completely different...
9. OTTOMH Original Meaning = Off The Top Of My Head Christian Meaning = One Time This Orangutan Mauled Hank Usage: OK, this one is kind of a niche phrase. I admit, you won't get to use it often. But if you ever go on a mission trip or a retreat or simply have an orangutan outreach program during church service and one of those orangutans mauls someone and that someone happens to be named Hank, you are going to be so happy that you read this post and can immediately text all your friends, "OTTOMH! OTTOMH!"
While the post itself was hilarious, the comments were some of the funniest I've ever read. Most of them were simply adding more ridiculously funny text abbreviations. Until you get to Comment No. 52 from Tim M. which says: "Hi. I’m new to this blog. I got here by googling “orangutan mauled Hank” to see if there's any update on my cousin Hank after his horrible accident."
Can I prove beyond a reasonable doubt that this is the same Tim on my blog roll? No. But I'm assuming it is, because that is classic Timbo.
Tim wrote a post entitled "Star Trek" the other day. I immediately clicked over to his blog because I like to make fun of Star Trek and Star Trek fans. Here's the comment I left: "Where do you come up with this stuff? I want more bear/cat/bear/monkey visionary stuff! Who cares about Star Trek?" (There's an entire back story to the bear/cat/monkey comment, but I'll let you figure that one out for yourselves.) So, here's what Tim posted in response to my comment: I listened, and heard. That guy cracks me up!
Will I be doing more blog roll shout outs? Probably - but don't hold me to it. You're not the boss of me!
What do all these things add up to? The final day at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, Silly! If you have never attended this extravaganza, people - YOU ARE MISSING OUT! As I type this post, I can almost guarantee that I will poke fun at many of the things I have observed this year and in years past, but before I do that, I want you to know I think this event does Houston proud each and every year. I am not a fan of country and western music (for the most part), nor am I a fan of the huge crowds that this event attracts every year. Even though people watching is a highlight: People watching at the rodeo is akin to people watching the at the mall a week before Christmas: you see a bit of everything.
The reason I support this event despite my slight distaste for some of the things it represents is this - The livestock show provides millions of dollars in college scholarship money for kids who have proven themselves responsible (and in financial need) by caring for and raising everything from chickens to cows - with every imaginable farm animal in between. Despite the pomp and circumstance associated with the event, it really is all about those kids. An event that actually rewards hard work and sacrifice. Go figure...
But enough about them. Let me tell you about my experience yesterday. I begin by telling you that we did not attend the carnival (with lots of very cool rides), the exhibition hall (with all the award winning livestock and cool educational stuff), or the shopping (with everything imaginable available for purchase - not just tacky, rhinestone encrusted clothing that most drag queens wouldn't be caught dead in).
The doors to Reliant Stadium opened at 3:15 PM. Since we arrived early to beat the traffic (obviously, I was not driving), Ron found a bathroom while perused the gift shop; not to actually buy any of that tacky crap, but to take pictures with my camera phone. I'm always thinking of you, my dear reader. You're welcome. Three guesses as to what this is:
(Hint - it is NOT the love child of Frosty the Snowman and The Berenstein Bears). Give up? It's a sheep. Wha-huh? Apparently some sheep don't have ears. That's just weird. ($8.11)(?!) Okay, here's another one:
Now, if you live in Houston, you probably know that this is Howdy, the ten gallon hat and boot wearing "H" present at every rodeo. ($2.99) Howdy, Howdy! Now here's a news flash. Chuckie is alive and well, living in Houston as part of the Federal Witness Protection Program: Oh, sure...he's cleaned up his act a bit. But I never turned my back on him!
This post is already getting pretty long, so I'll move on...
I could say much about the wide variety of um...fashion choices displayed at the rodeo. Most notably the more scantily clad cowgirls -- imagine a hooker convention on "Go Texan" day. If I had to sum up the most disturbing outfits in two words, it would be this: Denim Cameltoe. Enough said (perhaps too much).
One of the perks of being in a position where you purchase oil and gas related equipment is that you get offered lots of free tickets -- especially to the rodeo. The face value of the tickets we had were $77.00 each. This price covered a free parking pass right up front, the closest seats possible to the rodeo (we literally had dirt kicked on us by some of the horses), and access to an area that provided an open bar, free Hors d'oeuvres (pronounced "horse-doovers" by me or "whores-divores" by my dh), ice cream, candy, chips, peanuts, nachos, water and soft drinks. Even though my dh and I don't drink, it was interesting to see how often people went back to the bar. (Hint - A LOT!)
The above picture was taken during what is called the "Grand Entry". This is where major contributors mount horses and/or horse drawn carriages and parade around in the dirt in a big circle. I refer to this as the "People who could buy and sell you 3 times over wearing starched blue jeans and endangered species boots parade around on horses parade". But in the interest of brevity, I suppose "Grand Entry" is a good choice.
On every day other than the closing day, you will see a bunch of rodeo stuff - calf roping, bareback riding, etc. But on the last day, there is only two events: the calf scramble:(This is awesome, btw. Kids running around attempting to tackle a bunch of calves, roping them, and then dragging them into a big square in the middle of the arena.) They might be baby cows, but they're pretty doggone strong!
And the main event: Xtreme Bull Riding!
There is one thing that all these young men have in common: THEY ARE NUTS! But there are also some other similarities. To be a professional bull rider, your name is very important. Having a name that begins with "C" or the letter "J" is pretty important: Colin, Cody, Clayton, Cooper, Clayton, Cody, Chad, Colby, Cory, Jarrod, Jesse, Jake, Jason, Jay. or J.W. If you are not so fortunate, you should employ the use of your middle name: Danny Ted McDowell, Bobby Loren Welsh, Seth Thomas Glause, Michael Ray Moore or Tyler L. Johnston. If you have a child that you feel is destined to ride bulls, you should choose a name like B. J., Bandy, Stormy, Spud, Tate(r) and, of course Howdy Cloud. Would you buy life insurance from a guy named Howdy Cloud? Me thinks not. There were also some other guys named Steve, Fred, Douglas, Shawn and Wesley, but the bulls threw them off way before the 8 second buzzer. Favorite bull names: Funky Colemedina, Dirty White Bull, Snortin' Horton, Hot Diggity Damn and The Geetus (love that!). The winner? B.J. Schumacher. But all those dudes were tough! Favorite line from the announcers? "Roping that bull was harder than getting Rosie O'Donnell to leave 'The View'".
I won't bore you while I wax poetic about how fantastic ZZ Top was (they were). I dig those guys --especially considering the fact that jamming out to Jesus just left Chicago was the closest thing to worship music I knew in the 80's, but I digress... I did want to share a picture that Todd Owyoung has graciously allowed me to use - check out Frank Beard's drum kit! (By the way, you should totally check out his blog - his concert pictures are amazing.)Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard: All 59 years old Houston boys, and still rockin!
Excerpt from "I became a Christian and all I got was this lousy t-shirt: Replacing Souvenir Religion with Authentic Spiritual Passion" by Vince Antonucci
Staff members at my church take one day each month to fast and pray. It's a day designed to get away and get close to God, to focus on him and pray for the church. I decided to spend one prayer and fasting day at Burger King. I know this sounds bizzare, but I wasn't going to eat. Normally, I go to a park or the beach on my prayer day, but it was cold outside, so I wanted a place where I could be inside but by myself. When I do my fasting day I don't eat, but I do drink, so I thought, I'll go to Burger King, get a Coke, sit there for a couple hours, read my Bible, and write in my journal. So I went in, got my Coke, sat down, and started reading.
Two minutes later a dirty, smelly guy came walking up. He was obviously extremely poor, probably homeless. He started pacing in front of my table. I glanced up several times but tried not to make eye contact because I wanted to keep reading my bible. After all, this was a day for me. My goal was to get me closer to God. Finally, I felt guilty and thought, This isn't right. Vince, you need to take some time, die to yourself, and love this guy. So I asked, "Hey, can I help you with anything?"
Turns out the guy was from India. He started talking, but I could barely decipher his words. Finally, he handed me a piece of paper. It was a job application for Burger King. I said, "Oh, you want to apply here. Do you need help filling this out?" He nodded yes, so we got to work. It was difficult. One question asked about experience. I think he said he used to be a cook. In Florida? India? Indiana? Another requested his home address, but he didn't have one. It took nearly an hour. Finally, we were done and he walked to the counter to turn it in. I thought, It's good that I helped him, but I'm glad that's over. I went back to reading.
One minute later he was sitting back at my table. I said, "Oh, Hi." He sat and stared at me. I thought, Maybe he's hungry. "Do you need something to eat?" I asked. He said yes, so I gave him a few dollars. And he appreciated it. He really appreciated it. He grabbed both my hands and started rubbing them all over his face and neck. I thought, Oh...my...goodness! This is so weird! Finally, after the thirty most awkward seconds of my life, he grabbed my money and disappeared. I thought, Wow. Well, it's a good thing that I helped him. But I am so glad that's over. I went back to reading.
Two minutes later he was sitting back at my table. This time he had a burger and fries. I thought, Maybe he just needs someone to talk to. I started a conversation, and then he asked me about the Bible I was reading. I started to explain that I believed in Jesus. A smile erupted on his face and he pulled his wallet out. He proudly showed me a picture of Jesus. I said, "Yeah, that's who I'm telling you about!" Then he proceeded to show me pictures of Buddha, Muhammad, a goat, Reggie Jackson, there may have been some pictures of Regis Philbin, the Dali Lama, and Bea Arthur in there as well. He became very serious and asked, "Do you know what God's name is?"
I said, "Yes, I'm trying to explain to you --I believe his name is Jesus. Jesus is God's Son."
He said, "No! God's name is twenty-one!" "Huh?" "God's name is twenty-one. Do you understand?" he demanded. "Yeah, you just said God's name is Twenty-one." His voice was rising, "No. No! God's name is twenty-one." I repeated, "God's name is Twenty-one." "No! God's name is Twenty-one!" "Got it. God's name is Twenty-one." "No! God's name is Twenty-one!"
Finally, I put an end to our Abbot and Costello routine and asked him to please explain what he meant. He tried. I think what he was struggling to say was that he believed that all religions worship the same God and that God is called by twenty-one different names in the various religions of the world, and so he has twenty-one names.
"Okay, I understand now," I said. "But I believe there is only one God, and Jesus was his Son."
"He asked, "Do you know who is God today?" I answered, "Twenty-one?" "No," he said. "Today, you are God to me." "No, I'm not God," I responded. "Yes, you are," he countered. "No," I explained. "I'm trying to show you the love of God, but I'm not God." "No. Today you love me," he said. "You help me. You feed me. Who is God? He loves, he helps, he feeds. Today, you are God to me."
In one sense he was theologically wrong, because I'm certainly not God. But in another sense, he was right. Because God has asked me to represent him, to be his ambassador.
We need to be the good news before we share the good news so that our gospel has integrity. We need to make the gospel beautiful again. We need to lose all the trappings so people can experience the natural beauty of God's good news. We need to show people what life in God's kingdom is like before we invite them into it.
A big thanks to all who participated in the first ever Super Skanktacular Saturday Giveaway. Congratulations, Erin!
Now on to Week Two: "Slutty Girlz Rock Band":
Before I introduce the next group, I feel I need to make a disclaimer. The featured doll in this collection represents a young woman who has had her share of problems. As a matter of fact, her life is a bit of a train wreck. Her personal and legal problems did not factor into my selection of her. I really don't like to kick someone when they're down. That being said, I think it is safe to say that sober or otherwise, for me, she definitely falls into the category of "Skanktacular".
That's right, peeps! For your winning entry, not only will you receive Grammy award winning singer of "Rehab" Miss Amy Winehouse, but also:
Two additional vixens with guitars, a stage, 2 mic stands w/mics, 2 speakers,
Creepy wanna-be singer/song writer/roadie with keyboard,
Three working Bratz Rock Angelz mini CDs, and
A only slightly dog-chewed microphone, doll stand, and of course, extra feet!
Needles to say, this particular grouping is quite Skankerriffic! Deadline is next Saturday at 9:00 AM Central time. Enter early, enter often!
Before I announce the winner of HLAC's first ever Super Skanktacular Saturday Giveaway, I need to take care of some bloggity business. As previously mentioned, Stacy from Louisville (aka "Stace"), was disqualified from the contest. I did, however offer an alternative prize for one of her fabulous giveaways. Stacy, may I offer to you for future giveaways, Lint from my Dryer:
(You're welcome! Don't mention it.)
Now, on to the contest. I will tell you that 2 out of 3 of the judges put a great amount of thought into choosing the winner of this contest. (One of them thinks I'm very silly and that I should probably go grocery shopping. But I digress...) The following is an excerpt from an email from one of the judges:
"ok- here's my 2 top ones - Jake and RRRRamone....but it's tough..the GI Joes need women....and I want to pick Helen just because.... but....the more I think of it being the Kardashian sisters....it seems they need to go to Tony C to get to know the GI Joe guys....is that sick and twisted? RRRamone at least needs to get some feet....but Jake and the antennae story is really funny....I keep vacillating....ok - final answer - Toncy C -...I can't quit you!!!!"
When all was said and done, there were four favorites. Tony C and Jake both had compelling stories, Rrramone was a strong contender for all of the judges, and regardless of the results of future contests, he will definitely be getting some feet.
But there can only be one winner. Two out of the three judges agreed that one story deserved to win. And while the story was compelling, what put this contestant over the top was the introduction of a new word forever burned into the judges' minds: Prostitot:
Congratulations Erin! Please email me at katdishrich@gmail.com with your shipping address. Non-winning entries will be forwarded to this week's contest. Enter early. Enter often!
Later today, I will introduce the next group, "Slutty Girlz Rock Band" featuring the musical stylings of Miss Amy Winehouse! Stay tuned...
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