I’ve said it before, and I’ve meant it every time: I don’t tend to win stuff. I mean, I win at LIFE and all that, but that’s one of those things people say to The Losers when really they’re snickering behind your back because shit, no, you really don’t win anything. Sucks to be YOU.
Here is a brief rundown of the things I have not–and will not–won:
- The Lottery. While I don’t ever PLAY it, I’m as shocked as you to report, they don’t just give you the winnings for saying off-handedly to the overweight and stoned cashier that you’d like to win it one day as you bought your large Diet Coke.
- My 3rd Grade classes 3-legged race. Because I fell down and ruined it all. Hey, what else is new?
- Prom Queen. Because I was too busy being drunk and hot-tubbing at a party to remember to get all gussied up and shake my booty to a PG version of “Brown Eyed Girl” with the whole “makin’ love in the green grass” part taken out. Because THINK OF THE CHILDREN! *cue handwringing*
- The genetics that would make me 5’11 with long blonde hair (that is always romantically windblown, even inside), a teeny waist, and a nice rack.
- Class President. Now, I wasn’t campaigning for it, nor would I have wanted to actually BE Class President, but I need to tell you that there was no grass-roots movement to get me elected. I KNOW, right? The UNFAIRNESS of it all.
- An Heiress. I’m not really particular about which family, so long as I can sleep in a vault of money and pay someone to wipe my butt after I poo. While I know this isn’t something that’s really “won,” it’s another example of how wanting something badly enough doesn’t do any good.
After all, not everyone can be an astronaut.
When I was nominated for Funniest Blogger, a contest I didn’t even know was going on until a sweet Twitter Gnomie put me up for it, I was shocked. I told The Daver that I was now up for the award and then proceeded to laugh as I listed my competition. Because the competition should have kicked my lily-white ass to the curb and then made me buy it breakfast at IHOP.
I tied for winner with Cake Wrecks, which is pretty much saying that Dooce and I won the same award. It’s like winning something alongside THE POPE. Which, hi, not going to happen. Except when it does. Because it did.
I’m as shocked as you are.
I’ll give you a minute to let this sink in because I’m still all, “I thought Punk’d went off the air when the dude from it married that old lady from Ghost.”
Done? Angrily writing nasty-grams to the organizers of the Social Luxe awards informing them of how very wrong their decisions were? I kind of want to send one myself, although, not for Cake Wrecks. They were a shoo-in. Starting hate blogs devoted to me yet? Telling Barrack Obama that he should fire me from life?
But no. They’re never going to pry the awesome award out of my nubbly little fingers as long as I live and breathe. I’m considering naming the trophy something like, “Bob” or “Earl” or “Princess Grace of Monaco” and sleeping with it at night. Maybe I’ll take it for carriage rides and long walks on the beach; maybe I’ll dress it in the teeny-tiny new baby clothes that my children will never wear again. Maybe I will take it out to dinner in lieu of going with my family members.
Because that’s what Winners do, right?
Wait, I thought you were up for Funniest LOOKING Blogger, Mom!
Nom, nom, nom, so THAT’S what victory tastes like. Hm. Minty.
Keep your hands off my deranged looking husband, and I will cut a bitch if you go near my award. I have a feeling absolutely no one will try and touch the award now. He’s like my own personal vault. Only human.
Thank you so much to everyone who voted for me, even if you’d interpreted it as the Funniest LOOKING Blogger. I really, honestly couldn’t have done this without you. Shut up! I am NOT crying! I have ALLERGIES. And a GLANDULAR problem, people!
Here are the other winners as I don’t think they’ve been put up online yet. You should absolutely go and check them all out: