The winner of the competition to name my sister's drawing has been determined through a stringent grading process. A panel of nine professionals in the fields of art, science, aesthetics and, for some reason, one professional pastry chef, have come to a final agreement based on a ten point ranking system, and the name that will be forever applied to the drawing in the world of my blog shall be:
"The Intricacy of the Worker's Hand"
This entry was submitted by "Anonymous", who also submitted a few other suggestions... Unfortunately for Anonymous, the fine print (which resided inside of my head) read that the cash prize of one babillion dollars could only be awarded to someone who made a single entry. Multiple entries immediately disqualify one from receiving the money.
But look on the bright side, Anonymous: you still will be recorded here as the genius who named a masterpiece.
Special thanks to my sister for drawing that thing while she was working one day.
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10 comments:
That specific said "anonymous" was me, baby...just so you know. I didn't want to put my name for obvious reasons, cuz I wanted it to be totally unbiased.
Oh darling.... you will get a special prize then... we can't talk about it here though.... meet me out back *wink wink*
is your sister a meth head??
This is neither the time nor the place to answer that question... It should have been asked a couple of comments sections back. Since it's a saturday though, i'll allow it and answer simply: no, my sister is more into that out of this world feeling she gets by taking two or three hits of DMT in a glass pipe and then laying down on the couch for the next fifteen minutes. She said that she saw the aliens and that their tears were the healing grace of the world, but the only problem was that the only way to make the aliens cry was to harm the apple/center of the universe. "HOW DO YOU HARM AND APPLE THE SIZE OF ETERNITY ITSELF!?!?" my sister screamed at me while recounting this story, flailing her limbs (not just her arms) about wildly in self-expression. She proceeded to tear through a nearby bush, saying something to the effect of "I have GOT to find those scarabs!!! I left them right HERE!!!"
man that was a rough day. i remember it like it never happened.
This is FUCKING BULLSHIT! Fucking contest was rigged!Of course you pick your fucking girlfriend's title.
to the person that should've won the contest:
I predicted some indigence here. I know it's hard to believe, but I literally had no idea that that entry belonged to my girlfriend until after choosing the winner and posting the results....
I'm so sorry for having wronged you. Please forgive me. I will perform a ritualistic self-flogging at your next big event if you like. I just hope it's not a child's birthday party. Me whipping myself with leather straps lined with shards of glass is bound to ruin little Billy's six year.... and possibly, life
Listen here, you FUCK anonymous. I think YOU'RE fucking bullshit!!! It clearly was NOT rigged, because I didn't even put my name for obvious reasons so we couldn't cheat. Now, if you've read my little guest blog on here, then you know how much of a god damn temper I have, and I would strongly recommend you NOT EVER calling me Charles' "FUCKING GIRLFRIEND" or using ANY sort of retarded ass derogatory words against me I will kill you. I will run into you with my car whether you were driving or not. (Preferably while you were not in your car).
So, if you're so god damn butt hurt about losing in this little contest, why didn't you come up with a better name?
That's all.
To Charles' FUCKING GIRLFRIEND:
Listen honey, I'm sure you suck a mean cock and that is why Charles picked your dumb ass title, but there is no reason for you to open your mouth unless a throbbing member is immediately going to be inserted in it.
I think it's going to be hard to run me over with your car after I put a car bomb in it and blow you to a million pieces. They'll be scraping your ovaries off the side walk miles away, and Charles will be looking for all ten of your fingers for months, like it's a scavenger hunt, with the prize being what's left of your pelvic region.
Ok....
No more death threats on my blog or I will be forced to kill whoever writes the next one.
The contest was not rigged. Nobody has to die over this. Please, let's everyone put our guns down.
If you kill my girlfriend, I will have no choice but to perform a ritual honor killing on you. This involves hot metal rods and rats crawling into the most terrible portions of your body motivated by flame.
I will then throw myself atop her burning funeral pyre, screaming: "Why did i ever start that stupid blog?!?!?!?!"
I don't want to have to moderate these comments. please... let's all get along.
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