Over at Paul’s hilarious blog, The Good Greatsby, he is currently running his caption contest. Let’s be clear, this contest is the one and only thing I have to live for (well, there’s the kids…and my husband, I suppose…and chocolate) but other than those things, it’s my one goal in life to win this contest.
Peg, from the equally hilarious blog, Ramblings, has not only asked her own readers, but blatantly challenged you, my dear and loyal reader(s) to do the unthinkable: Vote for her. (I almost can’t even bring myself to type those blasphemous words, so I had to dictate to Mr. Skittles.) If you don’t know what I’m referring to, it’s all in the world’s longest post hijack under my heartwarming and soul-stirring post, Always Remember this Thing Called Love (click, then scroll way up the page a bit). I know, truly makes me and Mr. Skittles despondent beyond belief.
So please, find it in your heart, reach down deep inside your soul, click on that mouse and go over to the caption contest and vote for me. No, wait. Don’t vote for me– vote for pet monkeys everywhere who have had to suffer the cruel fate of living in the bowels of a basement eating bologna sandwiches with the spiders– penniless and Pringle-less.
Thank you for your time.
ATTENTION: BREAKING NEWS! EXTREMELY IMPORTANT EARTH-SHATTERING NEWS IS BREAKING RIGHT THIS SECOND!
Okay, Peg. I’m gonna call a truce here. (your comment about the apple not even being brown killed me, still giggling at that one) You are funnier, dammit. It’s true. (weeping into Mr. Skittles soft fur)
(I step up to the podium, cameras snapping. Hair perfectly coiffed into a semi-Snooki poof. I lean into the microphones and break into my best Tiny Fey doing her best Sarah Palin voice):
I would like to thank all of my loyal voters, who have stood by me and who have had unshakable faith in me during these trying caption contest times. The lamestream media has spread countless lies about me and Mr. Skittles. It’s time we put an end to all of these vicious attacks on the America I’ve grown to know and love from way up here in Maine, which is still the U.S. of A. but maybe we’re just a wee bit too far away for you all to remember that we’re there, but we’re there alright–shootin’ and huntin’ and fishin’ with Mr. Skittles by our side. But I regret to inform you all, that I wasn’t even in the running in the first place. I was kidding. Yep, it’s true. You betcha. Now if you will all kindly turn your attention to the table in the back where I have stacks of my glorious new memoir: Mr. Skittles and I: Of Monkeys and Mavericks. I thank you.