Still, imagine my surprise when a huge delivery truck manned by two extraordinarily hairy men backed into my drive early this morning, waking me with all that beep beep beep stuff. One of them flourished a clipboard (flourishing is a difficult thing to do for someone with more hair on his knuckles than on his head, but he did it) and told me to sign. The other hefted my award, still in its wooden packing crate, onto his back and carried it into my house. He said, "Where you want this, ma'am?" I said, here. No, over there. Gosh, nuh uh, I think maybe over by the....
Well. The dirty look he gave me.
So now it sits in the middle of my living room, leaking packing peanuts all over the carpet. I opened the little plastic bag with the shipping information in it (as well as some cheddar cheese and other suspiciously mouse-related items) and found that there are RULES with this award!
(Cue the scary Hitchcock movie music) Rules? Really? I went pale and held on to the bannister for support as I broke into a cold sweat. The room seemed to start spinning. What's that, readers? Me, a drama queen? Where DO you get this stuff? Anyway, there are rules, and you know how I get when I hear the R Word.
The rules are thus: I get to be
Now, Readers, you might think that I would
1. I would empty a vial of a carefully created virus into the drinking water. It would have no effect on some. But when anyone utters certain phrases after drinking the water, their tongues would swell up and "God wants..." or "My name is Rush Limbaugh..." would become "Ghhft lmpba gugh" instead. Not only that, but after the swelling goes down, they would only be able to say what they really mean. Thus, "I support family values" would come out as "My intern is so hot!" and "You betcha!" would come out as "Buy me some more clothes!"
2. Um. *shifts guiltily, shuffles feet* I was gonna say, Emmylou Harris wakes up tomorrow morning and likes women, and more than that, likes THIS woman. Bliss ensues. But...if I knew it was just my magical hocus pocus that caused it, and not my winning ways, it wouldn't be any fun. Well okay, not as MUCH fun. I would feel bad about hoodwinking Emmylou. So how about this? I get a lifetime supply of concert tickets, front row seats, backstage pass, and a private jet complete with hot female (uniformed!) pilot to get me there, in perpetuity. Yeah. That works!
3. I get to trade bodies with Jordana Brewster, and not only that, but my new body just REFUSES to ever gain weight, no matter what I eat! I know, weird, right! And furthermore, my new body would come with all of her clothes, too, like I was some sort of intelligent Barbie from space. I'm liking it! Okay, my work here is done. Now to give this here award to some right fine bloggers:
Mama Zen, who already got it from Lolamouse, but now she has two and can use them as bookends for all those books she reviews!
Hedgewitch, who doesn't really do this sort of stuff, and now will have to either compromise her (fabulous) blog, or snub me. I think of everything!
Sherry Blue Sky, who will just waste it doing good for the downtrodden. I know, I've talked to her and talked to her, trying to make her more evil, but she just wants to be good. It's frustrating!
Lolamouse at Mouse Droppings! Back atcha, woman!
Raven, who I sincerely hope will use these powers in a Christian way. *falls over laffing, hits book shelf with head, and gets conked with the Wiccan Spellbook*
Sara, because Sara always reads my poems so carefully and I love her for that.
Ellen, who tells Texas hi from me all the time.
Herman Turnip, who is seriously disturbed and so I adore him and the music downloads he walks on. I do wish he would post more about elephants, though.
Rene Foran, who I think really IS a Rockefeller but just won't fess up!
Babs St Argent at Objets D'art, who will point out that she already has total power over the universe, but hey, here's an extra shiny bauble for you.
Okay, that's it. What were you expecting? Poetry or something???