vuvuzela awards

OK, so, like I won a blog award! Crickey, I'm pleased! Tertia and Steve Hofmeyr were hot favourites – both pulling in two awards each.
It’s gratifying to know there are some people out there that believe I am a frigging comedian – and I am honoured with winning Most Humourous Blog of 2006.
I’m delighted to see I came a runner up in my other categories as well, which induces uncontrollable chuffedness.
Even with a whole lot of personal shit going on, if people think I'm funny, my work here is done.
Anyhoo.

Thanks to everyone and anyone who voted for me in all my categories, and congratulations to everyone who scooped a vuvuzela trophy.
My ears are shot.
Well done Joblog and Jon Cherry for putting it together – you’re all hot geeks with great hair.

The night was decidedly festive. Our trophies were vuvuzelas – I obviously ended up funneling tequila through mine. Playing foozball with the boys, and not really knowing what the dickens was going on around me. Being surrounded by some of the hottest geeks the blogosphere has to offer, tanked on tequila - I get a little flaky.
Thanks for siphoning tequila into me.

(FYI, I woke up the next day, arms entangled around my vuvuzela next to me in my bed. Worrying.)
My co-partner Crusoe was being smothered by some blond siren, and I’m certain I offered to show my noombies to Don. Luckily I was wearing my pretty yellow bra, not the skanky one.

I met some awesome people, and someone asked me for my autograph. This was met with unladylike gaffawing.
Me: “I’m sorry, you want what?”
Him: “Your autograph. You’re Peas right?”
Me: “You’re killing me, funny guy!...No seriously, you’re joking, right?”
Him: “Just sign my business card.”

What do I write? “Thanks for being a fan, Peas?” Or, “I’d better be funny from now on because this award holds a certain amount of pressure and in some respects I think Splattermail should’ve got this. Love, Peas?”
Or, “Here’s my number, you look like an interesting geek, love Peas?”
“All this and a bag of chips, Peas?”
Instead I did the honourable thing and drew a lovely picture of a whole lot of roundish balls on a rectangle thingie posing as a piece of toast.

In other news, I’ve rearranged the furniture of my entire flat. Pulled a neck muscle.
My bedroom has been turned into a boudoir of calm, tranquility and smut.
A corner of our living room, my office. With power bitch motivational stick-ons all over the place reminding me that I plan to be a millionaire in the next two years. Which on that, I start my new enterprise tomorrow.

Luckily I have a spanking new pair of red, shiny high heels to kick start my first day.