Trophies ...

Thanks for the translator widget recommendations. I found one that I like. It’s over there on the sidebar now. So, babes blogreaders all over the world can now read my brilliant prose silly blathering.

If you would also like that translator, you can get it RIGHT HERE.


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So I got the Fantasy Football trophies today. Now, I know what you are thinking. “Dude, the season ended a few weeks ago.” Well, you’re right. But, I’ve been busy doing … you know, things. Hey, they’re going to get their trophies before the Super Bowl, so that’s something.

Anyway, I didn’t take an pics of the trophies to post here cause I want them to be a surprise. So I fully expect Karen (the league champion) and Dianne (the league DFL team) to post pics and video or whatever when they get their trophy.

Also, I expect those trophies to make the round with each of them. Dianne your is smaller (that’s what she said) and I think it could ride along on the dashboard of your car. Right next to your Plastic Jesus. You do have Plastic Jesus on the dashboard, don’t you?

Anyway, I’m hoping for pics of the trophies at the bar during happy hour, or at different tourist spots around town. And maybe even some pics of Karen and Dianne and their haawwwwwt friends kissing the trophy. That would be awesome. Or giving it a little tongue like Hayden Panettiere and the Stanley Cup …


Seriously, The Cynical Blog League is way more prestigious than the NHL, right?

Anyway, the trophies will be sent out this weekend.


But, I gotta tell y’all about what happened when I went to pick the trophies up…

Living in a small town means only one trophy shop to go to. And it means they had to order the “parts.” Which I thought was a little weird. But, it didn’t cost anymore than getting them off the internet and shipping would have. So I decided I would wait a week for them to get all the “parts.”

So they call me today and told me they trophies were in. I run down there and check them out and all that cool stuff. Then I get out my trusty debit card to pay and the lady looks at me and says “Oh I’m sorry, we don’t take no credit cards.”

Me: “What?”

Lady: “We only take cash.”

Me: “What, is this 1985?”

Lady: “Scuse me? 1985?”

Me: “You guys have heard of debit cards, right? Nobody carries cash anymore.”

Lady: “Oh yeah, well we only take cash?”

Me: “Does the mafia own this place?”

Lady: “Huh?”

Anyway, I had to run to the bank and get cash from the ATM and then go back and pay the mobbed up trophy place. I really had no idea there was any place left, even here in this little backwards town, that didn’t take debit cards.

Oh well. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It was for Karen and Dianne, after all.