And The Award is Awarded To . . .
Somewhere up in the Pacific Northwest, Sasquatch is reading this and just got his feelings hurt because he's no longer the rarest sight to be seen.
Anyway, in typical PS fashion, we don't just report the news . . . we live it!
So, I've decided to have my very own awards show.
Now, I'm no dummy. I know this has been tried many, many times already across the internet to far less impressive fanfare. Inferior bloggers than I (is that even possible?) have attempted and failed miserably at achieving recognizably sustainable humor because their skills were not finely honed enough. And, they didn't pay the gallery adequately to get them to laugh.
So, without further prolonged ado . . .
I give you the First Annual Procrastination Station "Look at Me, I'm Famous!" Awards show.
Here's how this is going to work. (And it WILL work . . .) Instead of Feedback Friday for the next week or so, We need all the input we can get from any and all readers on possible categories and worthy souls. Keep in mind this is fun-time (it ain't real, people), so try and avoid such obvious notions as "Best Picture", "Best Album" and "Best Performance in a Gap Commercial".
In true, Britney Agui-lohan fashion, we're eliminating any and all distinctions between TV, Film (that's movies to us ordinary folk) and Music. Anyone who wants to be famous and pretend they are a serious actor, can be. That's how our lil' awards show is gonna play out, Dog. Incidentally (in true real-word fashion), we're also eliminating any and all distinctions between quality and putrified crapola, in case you were wondering what that gosh-awful smell was.
So, let us not keep the gliterati waiting too long. They won't know what to do with themselves if we're not fawning zombie-like over them for a whole week.
Bust out that Dolce & Gabana swan dress Bjork, 'cause it's party time!
Ben O.