The following is based on actual events but has been
slightly moderately monumentally altered for your reading pleasure.
If I remember correctly, last week was a good week – my 2-yr old daughter repeated the word asshole after me [watch what you say around Poppy, daddy], I haven’t been called a slut by Rush Limbaugh and I received two blogging awards. Saturday night, when we went to bed, there was my wife, myself and my over-inflated ego between us. Something had to be done. I was not going to let
my wife my ego stand in the way of our marital bliss.
Insomnia joined the three of us in bed, while I was pondering on the awards and being pushed over the edge of the bed by my ego. Three’s a crowd, four’s a f*cking mess. Around midnight, my daughter, feeling left out, thought it’d be a good idea to whine as loud as the nearby passing trains. I was not going to get some somnus anytime soon [I was going to write "sleep" but my ego - taking over my keyboard for a brief interlude - thought latin was more
pretentious eloquent]. I got up, put pjs on my heavenly one-ab stomach, and abandoned the (un)sleeping party.
Sitting at my desk, in my office, which is also the living room and the kids room and the home theater, I could hear murmurs [I'm half deaf] of the [very loud] dispute between my ego and insomnia… When it happened. My wife grabbed my ego with one hand, insomnia with the other, burst into my daughter’s room, instilling the fear of death in her with just one stare, headed to the front door, kicked everyone out in the freezing night, walked towards me and said: “You get your act together, I don’t want to see your ego here again. Do you understand me?”, and went back to bed. I sat again at my desk after changing my wet
diaper underwear and it could finally be heard, all throughout the house: silence.
Taking my wife very seriously, I decided something had to be done with these blog awards, and their negative effects on one’s ego. As a philanthropist, I had to come up with a way to save others from a similar misfortune. My ego was out on the street, and bloggers, little could prevent it from knocking at your door. A voice whispered in my head, it was Hippie Cahier‘s – which I never physically heard, and because of her blogger’s name, thought she sounded a great deal like Bruce Willis: “Eric… …ooooOOOOOOOoooooo… Eric… You should create an Alan Smithee Blog award… …ooooOOOOOOOoooooo…”.
So here it is friends… Introducing the Alan Smithee Blog award! And it’s all yours… You’ve been nominated for a Liebster award? a Versatile award? an Awesome Blog Content award? a f*cking Oscar?, and you want to pull a Marlon Brando on the prize? Fret not! The Alan Smithee Blog award is for you. You don’t need to nominate a single other blogger for it, nor will you have to give anyone your social security number for it. Simply save it to your desktop, and add it to your blog – OR don’t! It’s yours to do whatever you want with it. Stop the chain-letter awards, I say! Stop caressing your ego with these meaningless awards and risk the wrath of your spouse! Save the wales, and claim the Alan Smithee Blog award now, before I change my mind.