To discuss how I am 'Donna' apologize, and more Google search fun

Two points today:
1. I made a boo-boo yesterday that is one of my own pet peeves, which means I'm pet peeved with myself, if that's possible. I'm peeved all over myself...

I called someone by the wrong name.

No, it wasn't because I didn't know the person's name, or was being inconsiderate, or hadn't used it before. It was because I was doing too many things at once. But excuses are worthless.
So, Diane, I am sorry I called you Donna. As my penance, I offer you this free publicity for your wonderful blog, which deservedly won an award from Haute Pocket (where the offense took place). Mea culpa. I hope you can reinstitute your blog crush (which I know waned during this post). I'm sure there's a Backstreet Boys song that's appropriate for this moment- any ideas?- but, anyway, Diane, you're the best Diane I know. Diane. Diane.

It's not like I lack experience with wrong names. I get called Adam all the time. All. The. Time. "Hi, my name's Andy." "Nice to meet you, Adam." "It's Andy." "Cool, Adam." "Andy." "Adam?" "No, Andy." "I'm not wearing pants." "What?" "Don't worry about it, Adam." "@$&@"
A former co-worker of mine, who was a lovely person, thought my name was Anthony. I corrected her a few times, but eventually, I just let her roll with it, as I liked the idea of being Italian, plus she was a bit older and I didn't feel like nitpicking.
She died from cancer, sadly. And she still thought my name was Anthony.

It's even better when someone has no idea what your name is, but it's past the point of asking. Or, if one person knows the other's name, but that person doesn't know the first person's name. "Hey, Andy, what's going on man?"
"Heyyyy... dude. How are ya?... Uh, how's your driver's license photo look? Mine's always bad...(scans the guy's driver's license). Yeah, JOHN, that's a weird photo (hands back license)"
"Uh, I go by my middle name. You knew that."
"Of COURSE I did, uh, buddy. So, are you an organ donor (takes back license), um, um, um, what I'm guessing is either Michael or Mark?"

2. After writing my latest "Google searches that led people to my blog" post, I discovered I had a score of new Google searches that needed to be mentioned.* If any of these are yours, please claim them. I love them and want to know their inspiration.
Some of the latest:

• "Here's a confession: I'm in love with a man. What? I'm in love with a man... a man named God. Does that make me gay? Am I gay for God? You betcha." That, Google searcher, is a monologue by Charlie on "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," when the Gang thinks they see the Virgin Mary on a water-stained wall. Excellent episode. Glad I could help.
• "Stage coach stops western PA" Are you planning a heist? Can I ride shotgun on the horse, or are you doing this solo? It took several guys to do it in "3:10 to Yuma," just to let you know. Unless, of course, you just want to drive a stage coach. That's completely legit and eco-friendly.
  
• "Rapestand S&M" So... this is a bit awkward... I'm glad it took you to this post about fantasy football and Michael Vick's dogs, and not some post I have about hardcore S&M. Because I'd like to think I'd remember writing a post like that, and the severe amount of coke I must have used before I wrote it.
• "I like mail in my mailbox." Who doesn't? It was even better in the old days of AOL when people would get psyched to hear the "You've Got Mail" sound. Now all I get is a bold-faced lie from Yahoo telling me I have "mail," which really means I have an offer to invest in an African prince's real estate, risk-free.**
• "Pictures of naked hot sexy girls showing there bubes." Well, first off, "their," not "there"- girls won't flash you if you use incorrect grammar. Second, I'm a little disturbed Google led you to a post about me describing my girlfriend's Halloween costume (which mention's Bube's Brewery). There will be no hot sexy fun time with her. None.
  

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* For those of you who wonder how I do this, check "Referrals" in your Sitemeter account. Take a moment. Enjoy. Then recoil in fear as you realize most of your visitors are twisted, twisted people.
** And for $140,000 down.

To discuss the second award presentation. Envelope, please.

Continuing our awards presentation from yesterday, I'm now going to hand out the Superior Scribbler award, which was bestowed upon me (we all need to be doing a lot more bestowing... and begatting) by Diane.

As we did before, acceptance speeches are welcome, unless you're going to run on stage like Kanye West. In that case, just don't say anything ignorant. And I do want to know "who" you are wearing. Today I've got on a H&M blue striped dress shirt, a tie from Salvation Army, French Shriner (?!) black loafers and grey slacks from somebody.
As always, there are rules when you give out these suckers, although you don't have to follow them, because you're a rebel:
- Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
- Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
- Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
- Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List.


I'm giving this out to three people, so as not to cause award inflation over a two-day period:

* Sam at Yes, I Know "Sam" is a boy's Name: I already listed her as having one of my favorite posts of October, so she must be doing something right to get an award already. Her latest example of rightness comes today, actually, courtesy of this context-free quote: "It's not healthy to fantasize about murdering your ex-boyfriend. At least not to this extent...."
* Finger of Finger Talks: I've got all kinds of love for this Jersey girl. Blog love, true love, creepy love, much love, stalker love. When she parties, she parties. Trust me.
* Patrick of Patrickwalsh.blog-city.com: You know what? I don't care that Patty Walsh recently made it big-time writing TV scripts (lately for It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia). I'm giving him an award anyway, in case he needs another ego boost. You hear that PW? Andy's looking out for you. I'm lavishing you with a blog award. Check out anything in his archives, such as this memory of Koreatown.

To discuss another overdue award presentation

Before I forget or procrastinate, I wanted to hand out some awards. Diane was so kind as to give me a Superior Scribbler award yesterday, and Miss Tiff gave me a Kreativ Blogger award a little while ago, so I need to start handing these puppies out to others and spread the holiday cheer or something to that effect. (If you gave me an award recently and I didn't mention it, let me know, as my memory fades like the evening tide)

Acceptance speeches are welcome and will not be cut off by the orchestra. Also, tell us who you are wearing for the ceremony (not "what," as evidently "who" is more apropos.) Please visit the winners and bestow respect and praise and frankincense and myrrh on them. I am wearing Gap.
The rules for Kreativ Blogger:
1.) Spell "Creative" in an unusual way so as to add mystery 2) List 6 things you love. 3.) List 6 Bloggers who you pass the Kreativ Blogger Award on to.

Things I love:
1) Desserts. Here's the thing- who said desserts can't be a main meal? Why don't we start viewing desserts as the main entree, and, say, steak as the dessert? More ice cream, fewer potatoes. Just a thought.
2) Bailey. No matter how many times my chiweenie poops on something he shouldn't, barks at strangers, costs me hundreds in vet bills or is generally useless, he still finds a way to curl up in my lap and look cute. Except for that time when he pooped in my lap.
3) Pittsburgh sports teams. It's easy to love the Steelers; they are always good. Try loving the Pirates- they haven't had a winning season in 16 years. And I follow their every move. Read all the stories, watch games, look at the blogs. It's a sickness.
4) Christmas music. I'm listening to it right now- "The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy," to be specific. And you know what? It's the cat's meow, if the cat is wearing a Santa hat and the meow is a "Ho Ho Mewww." I love Christmas music... but that's another post for another day.
5) Zombie movies. I've previously mentioned my love for "28 Days Later" and "Dawn of the Dead." There's something about dead people trying to murder others that just gets me in a tizzy.
6) Karaoke. You can't suck at karaoke. It's impossible. Either you can really sing, and then it's fun to listen, or you are awful, and everybody joins in and appreciates the awfulness, especially if it's to anything by Queen or AC/DC.

And the awards go to:
KK at WillWorkforShoes: I just started reading KK's blog recently, and it rocks my socks. A recent post title, "Me + Vodka = BFFs" well, just says it all.
Muffy Willowbrook at My Friends are Sluts: Despite my concern that her friends are destined for hell, I am always impressed with the Muff-meisters humor and writing. Check out the lead phrase in this story about Minnesota.
KAT and SJ at FunnyGals: The best part about this blog is that they are so supportive of each other. When one girl is unable to blog for awhile, the other picks up the slack, i.e. "If Everyone Claps Their Hands Really Loudly..."
Sheila at Here We Go: You should check her blog if only to see how low the gas prices are in Texas. Also, because she's a funny mom, a MTMML, if you will (Mom That Makes Me Laugh). Check out this old school post.
Brandon at ThinkOutsidethePun: The disclosure here is that I went to college with Brandon... which makes his blog even better, because he clearly puts more effort into all the political humor/satire on the blog than he did in any of his pre-11 a.m. classes. Check out WTF.
Lump at She's Lump: Because she's in my head. And she might be dead. (guitar riff)... Lump and I found each other recently, and I think I can fairly say we have a mutual respect for each other's inane humor and interests. Check out My Trip to the Garden State Sans Natalie Portman.

Check out the Superior Scribbler award winners tomorrow...

To discuss me being a potential trendsetter, plus a Weekend Update

It seems like I’m apologizing a lot lately on here, as per the previous post. Coincidentally, my apologies began right around the time I started dating Capricorn. I blame it all on her*...
That is, except for Bailey spilling tea on my laptop and causing the keyboard to spit out letters like a veritable word verification spam preventer. A sample of me trying to type:
SFLKNC. CVBMV. WERH?
(Translation: Bailey is an idiot. But he’s still cute. Can I really get mad at him?) Fortunately, I’m still got my work computer, but I can only write on this so much. I love you guys, but I'd rather not try to get fired, unless you can pay my rent (Wait, would you? That would be awesome. I’ll spot you next month, I promise. And by next month, I mean never. And by never, I mean there’s a better chance that the federal government would hand over nearly a trillion dollars to Wall Street moguls who already laid waste to billions of dollars, with no real way to make them pay it back. And by that, I mean that's a reality and we’re screwed. And by that, I mean I wonder if I can ask the federal government to bail me out since I’ve spent just as wrecklessly as Merrill Lynch. Help a brother out, Uncle Sam. You're my uncle. We're family.)

If my laptop doesn’t work again tonight, I’ll likely take two courses of action. One, cry the salty tears of hindsight. Two, bust out my typewriter. What’s that? A typewriter? You bet your ass I own a typewriter. Not one of those antique ones that weigh 50 pounds. An electronic one that has correction tape (which sort of works). The pitter-patter of the keys pounding the paper is a feast for the ears, its black-tongued keys striking white a festival for the eyes.
So, there's a good chance I will write a blog entry on my typewriter and scan it in tomorrow at work. That’s got to be a blogging first, right? I’m practically the Wright Brothers of blogging, sans the incredible handlebar mustaches and museum in my honor. Would you look forward to something like that? You don’t have to tell me. I can hear the heavy breathing now.

Just in case I don’t get to it, the Weekend Update:

Highs:

• Cooking dinner for Capricorn (chicken parmesan with sauteed mushrooms), and having it actually taste good.
• Catching up on the season premieres of Heroes (lots of good plot points developing), How I Met Your Mother (Barney never ceases to amaze me), The New Adventures of Old Christine (Julia Louis Dreyfus may actually be funnier now than on Seinfeld, and that’s saying something) and watching MTV’s The Island, in which Rachel Robinson, the same person I interviewed this week, gets kicked off.
• Winning my fantasy football game this week. I’m 4-0, baby. Capricorn didn’t seem to be as excited, although she's under the mistaken impression that I’m going to give all the winnings at the end of the season to her. Crazy girl.
• Getting an award from Diane, who is full of sunshine and moonbeams in my view. Considering how much I enjoy her blog-- she had a great post about Target recently-- it’s high praise, indeed. I’m going to give out the same award to five people later this week, as per tradition.

Lows:

• Catching up on the season premieres of Big Bang Theory (It was funny, but they are making Sheldon into an increasingly unlikeable and annoying person that nobody likes) and The Office (Yes, it’s still one of my favorites, but here’s the thing. I watched the original three episodes with Capricorn this weekend, and I remembered why I love the show- it was so irreverant and didn’t take itself seriously. Now, it’s almost like the characters are too aware and too involved, and some things felt a little forced. I would like Here Comes Treble to sing at my wedding, however).
  
• Visit to the post office. What a depressing place. Nobody smiles at the post office, perhaps because they all realize that the only reason they are there is because e-mail has failed them. And that they’ll have to pay to send something that would be free online.
• Going to Wal-Mart at midnight on Saturday and winning the Most Teeth title. That's not a stereotype. That quite literally happened. No gum was purchased that night, I am sure of it.
  

* Obviously, I don't. I've been smiling all week like an idiot. She makes me want to handwrite notes, fold them up and pass them to her during study hall...