As I’m sure you can imagine, I love to win major awards, particularly when they arrive at my condo packed in a straw-filled, wooden crate that I have to pry open with a crowbar. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’m an optimist. Oh, and if the wooden crate was also filled with wine, I’d be even happier. It’s important to keep Miss Snarky Pants happy because she is only one degree of separation from Paul Ryan – and we all know that he’s the devil.
The Sunshine Award
The Most Perspiring Blogger Award
The Versatile Blogger Award
Kreative Blogger Award
7&7 Link Award
Tag! You’re It! Honor
Less than a week after I began my career (I use that term very loosely as blogging, like crime, doesn’t pay) as an unprofessional blogger, my first post, Why I Hate Witty People , was Freshly Pressed. Unfamiliar with blogosphere lingo, it occurred to me that this might be similar to what happens to olives, but that didn’t make sense. Why, you ask? Do I look I like an olive? How many olives do you know who can type? Clearly, I’m not a fruit that needs to be cured and then smashed to extract its oil so, of course, it made absolutely no sense.
Informed by email that I was now one of the dozen or so bloggers singled out every day by the wordpress.com staff to appear on what is, essentially, wordpress.com’s front page, I was honored, humbled and confused as hell as to how I got there. I mean, I’m not related to anyone affiliated with the website. If I’ve snogged any staff members, I don’t remember having done so – and it would have been a long time ago because I’m a married woman. Then again, if I did snog a staff member, I’m sure it was a really good kiss and, ummm, I’m sure I enjoyed it and don’t be hurt that I’ve forgotten you. I’m a naturally forgetful person. I swear. I also didn’t bribe anyone because (1) my dad used all the money set aside for those purposes to ensure that I matriculated from several educational institutions of higher learning and (2) I’m a blogger and, therefore, have absolutely no money of my own. In English, I’m unemployed.
So how I got here is a mystery. Recently, my new blogging bestie, Stacie Chadwick , who is a hilarious and talented writer, was also Freshly Pressed. She claims I had something to do with it. Like I’m some kind of computer genius who can hack the wordpress.com website and Freshly Press all my new blogging friends. I still don’t know what an RSS feed is. Tomorrow, I’m going to the book store to buy Blogging for Dummies. I’m so not kidding. I kid a lot. I kid about not liking kids a lot. But I really don’t have a clue what I’m doing. And I’m really buying that book. If you’re at Barnes & Noble tomorrow, I’ll be the snarky chick with the big yellow book in her hand. That said, I like to write and, sometimes, the things I write make milk shoot out of people’s noses. No, I’ve never witnessed this, but they say so in my comments. I really love it when that happens because anyone can manage a fake laugh, but a fake milk nose spew is uber difficult. I also like saying the words “uber” and “willy-nilly.”
Anyway, to the Freshly Pressed gods and goddesses out there, I say, “Thanks. That was a super cool, groovy thing to do.” I won’t ask you to do it again because I don’t want to be greedy. Then again, I’m a little chubbier than I’d like to be which suggests I’m a little greedy with food…but I am on a diet, which suggests I’m trying not to be so greedy. What the heck! Do what you want. You’re gods and goddesses. Who am I to tell you what to do? Oh, and to you kind people who have taken the time to read my posts and subscribe to my blog, if you could keep doing that, I promise to continue to be snarky. I can’t promise to wear pants. Sometimes I like to go commando. I’d promise to make milk come out of your nose, but that’s really hard to do. You know, often. Maybe once in awhile, but you have to do your part. Drink milk while reading my post. I can’t help you if you don’t.
January 25, 2013
Miss Snarky Pants has been Freshly Pressed…again! The rumors about her having, erm, acquired compromising photos of two WordPress editors have been greatly exaggerated. It was just the one.