The Cheerocracy Winner
By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | March 27, 2010 |
By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | March 27, 2010 |
Well I think that went smashingly well. We had 134 votes, with just about all the regulars and even a few lurkers participating. And it seems that everyone stuck to the rules most diligently. I couldn’t be happier. You guys completely rocked it out.
So. I tallied all your votes, and ranked the comments according to how many votes each got. I just want to congratulate the Top 10 even more this week: every single comment got at least a few votes. I think it was one of the strongest Top 10 we’ve had, so you should feel very proud of yourselves.
Personally, I found the whole enterprise pretty fascinating. It was a blast reading the reasons for your votes, and I think it was a good opportunity for me to gather some information on what Pajibans like: the scathing and the hilarious and the filthy. I have to confess that I was very pleased that the winner of the vote was exactly the one I would’ve picked myself (though the ranking would be different). I like to be surrounded by people as smart and discerning as I am. Bwah.
Here’s the list, with the identity of each commenter.
*sound of an octopus clapping*
10. If Miley weren’t still 17, I’d have plenty of sucky things to say about that header pic. But she is, so I’ll swallow my statements and go down without a whimper. —KBalls
9. What happened next?
Well, in Pajibaland they say,
that Michael Bay’s baynis
grew THREE SIZES that day!
Which made it TWO inches long!
Still not much of a schlong. —,
[I definitely would’ve ranked that higher. I like rhymes]
8. On the other hand, when Mr. ******* falls to his death while climbing Mt. Whitney this summer, his GPS will allow them to pinpoint the location of his corpse before it’s pulled apart by jackals thereby permitting me to collect the insurance money in a timely fashion. So let’s look on the bright side: if one is dumb enough to marry someone who develops a death wish in his forties, at least compensation will not be with held for seven years. —PaddyDog
7. admin, the Betty will stay fertile for years. The real question is, can you handle that action? —Xtreme
I have to be honest, X; I do, in fact, believe that I’m ready for that jelly. —admin
6. OK, story: I went to type a very very excited reaction to this post. Because I’m seriously freaking out right now. And I went back to re-read it before I typed it (I guess that’s what nerds do), and I’d misspelled 14 words. Example: I spelled “news” “nuese,” I either am getting dumber or I want to slam Jon Stewart against a desk and ride him until he screams “Oy Vey!” —esme
[The next two were tied!]
5. We have a fish supply store here in Portland called
‘The Wet Spot’
They should open an annex called ‘What’s That Smell’ —Lindsey with an ‘e
4. It hurts my spirit to say I have thought about this before. Jacob would be my lover of choice.
His body is beautiful. His face is not. Therefore, I would opt to put a bag over his head for the inevitable lovemaking/bestiality. Noting his lupine heritage, perhaps he would growl during coitus. That would be most satisfactory.
Edward simply looks too ill to do anything, much less anyone. His disco stick (it does sparkle, after all) would not sate me. Perhaps we could trade womanly secrets and paint our toenails together. I think he would like that more. —Brie
3. What’s that sound, you ask
It’s the heartbroken yodel of an Austrian L’Engle fan simultaneously sharpening her Schnitzel knife and donning the Lederhosen of War before paddling her snowboard across the ocean to gauge out the eyes of Disney employees and devour them to the tune of “Edelweiss.” —cinekat
[The more I read that comment, the funnier I found it. Lederhosen of War!]
[The vote for the top 2 spots was VERY close. For a while I thought the positions would change but the winner put up quite a fight. It was a nail-biter, I tells ya!]
2. The Jewish Decepticon is a very safe, very value-friendly late ’90s Subaru Forrester named Morrie, whose weaponry consists of a guilt-ray that turns anyone in its path into a sad sack unworthy of his/her mother’s love. Also located on the forearms are a bevy of grenade launchers that fire out awful food, over-cooked and inedible, only countered by ordering Chinese take-out that will deliver to the Lower East Side.
Morrie does all of the Decepticon’s energon-accounting, and can fire out a dummy droid named Bubbie who can lull you to sleep with tales of “the old country”, and confuse nearby Autobots with Yiddish gibberish and anachronistic anecdotes.
Morrie’s weaknesses consist of anything German, “the rap music…oy!”, shiksahs, and excess sugar which sends his glucose levels all kinds of outta whack.
There is also a super powered version of Morrie, so beware if he is able to get his hands on an entire collection of Mel Brooks movies—he may become…unstoppable. —D-Day
[Outstanding job, D-Day! And your winner…]
1. Bella: I want to be undead. Oh, but I want to get laid first.
Edward: NO! I want you to get old! I want to be the one that lovingly changes your Depends. Just the thought of your freesia scent mixed with Ben Gay is enough to make me not want to tear that shit up.
Jacob: I’ll do you…
Bella: Um, yeah, Jacob… I don’t like you in that way. But I’m happy to keep you around as my dry-hump buddy until I can convince this other dude to stop being such a prude and nail me with his marble-hard, venom-drenched vampire boner.
Edward: Marry me! Marry me so I can make you undead and then we WILL GO TO TOWN, BITCH.
Bella: Ew. Marriage is gay. College is gay. Rough sex on the other hand…
Jacob: Two words: Doggie-style
Edward: I’m made out of stone. Think about it.
Bella: Decisions, decisions… —courtney
AND DOGGIE-STYLE WINS IT!
Congratulations, Courtney, for today you are our champion. Democratically elected and everything! (not that a moistened bint — Dustin — lobbing a scimitar at me and making me EEmpress is less authentic, of course). Your beautifully succinct summary of the Worst Sin Against Literature in Our Time (don’t worry, I’ve told myself to not take it so seriously from now on) was everything Pajibans love. Snarky, a little bit dirty, hilarious and smart. Well done.
Send me an email at figgylicious @ gmail.com with your address so I can personally send you your prize.
I’ll close by once again thanking everyone for participating. I hope you had fun. I think it could definitely turn into a semi-regular thing, because I had a blast.