It's obviously still award season

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I have been remiss in my posting duties*. Even more so because Ian was nice enough to bestow upon me a couple of awards. Well, one for real and the other because:

"... if you were selected for the first award, please feel free to take this one as well."

Is he arriving at the point of award burnout??

And, in doing this post, do I feel a touch of Suldog-ness washing over me?

Ok, so this first one is called, for some obscure reason I can't begin to fathom, the Premio Dardos award.

Which means Prize Darts for all you non Spanish speakers out there. No, unfortunately I'm not much of a Spanish speaker myself, I copied that from Ian's blog... Da rools are the same as ever, link to the one who gave it to you and give it to approximately 152,265 others. Exponentially speaking, I was probably the last person in the blogosphere to get it. Does that mean I don't have to pass it on now? Does it die here? But we'll get back to passing on (as in awards of course, not - as in the immortal words of John Cleese in the Dead Parrot sketch - It's not pining, it's passed on. This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot - dead).

Premio Dardos. Prize Darts. I'm still stuck on the prize darts. What the fuck are prize darts? D'you get 'em for skewering other people? Cuz, yeah, I can skewer with the best of them. But really, I haven't the faintest idea what all that's about. Prize darts? Is that a quintessentially Hispanic thing? Were I Hispanic would I have the slightest idea what the hell's with the prize darts? I venture to think not. This prize is the concoction of a twisted mind.

And what do darts have to do with this picture? As far as I can see it's an antique typewriter with stylized writing. I think. Or something.

But. Darts! What's with the damn darts??? Why the darts? Why??? There is no answer I fear. Who me? Obsessed with the damn darts? Whatever makes you think that.

Ian, when he did this, was pressed for time. He listed his 156,875 (or so) names and was done with it. Me? I'm just lazy, so I'm not going to link to anyone either. I think your blogs are all prize darts (!!!) or I wouldn't be reading them. Besides, everyone probably already has the damned thing.

Now the next one is the "First thing in the morning I need my coffee and to read your blog" award. Long name. I already saw this picture somewhere but the caption was different. Something along the lines of "I'm up, what the fuck else do you want?" I think I actually posted it here once. After a long night. Probably.

Problem with this one is twofold: a) I don't have time to read blogs in the morning when I get up because I already cut it close by getting up about 20 minutes before I have to leave. Get up, shower, wash hair, dry hair, dress and slap on a bit of makeup, brush teeth. All in 20 minutes. And I look relatively human at the end of it. I rock people, indeed I do. Blogs aren't even on my radar. I couldn't get my computer running at that hour, much less read blogs; and 2) I don't drink coffee. Ha!

So as with the other one, you want it? It's yours. I'm an equal opportunity award peddler. Yes I am.


* Well, duties might be the wrong word, since when this becomes a duty I'll be out of here so quick y'alls heads will spin. I have enough duties without heaping more on myself.
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