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Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Performance Anxiety

I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. Please don't ask me right now.

Yeah, yeah. I know. It happens to every guy sooner or later. But the pressure is too much. I've lost my comic hard-on. I can't get it up.

You people are just sitting there - um - you know. Reading me. Judging me. Trying to decide if I am worthy of your votes. Well, no thank you. I'm done. Finished, I tell you.

Okay, yes, I know you are sick of hearing about the BoB Award. Just humor me, okay? In a few more days the whole thing will be over, and I'll go back to having absolutely nothing to write about other than the massive quantities of Maker's Mark I consume and the fact that I am unable to keep my mind focused for more than five seconds before it drifts off in a thousand directions. I can't wait to see the hunky bartender tonight at CC Slaughters. Did you know the next season of The Apprentice pits the "Street Smarts" against the "Book Smarts"? Guess which one I would be? Hint: It isn't Street Smarts.

Besides, not everyone is bored by the Best of Blog talk. My friend Ms. Karma says she thinks the whole voting thing is "exciting". Yes, she needs to get out more, and I'm taking her to CC Slaughters after work, so don't worry about her. She'll be fine after twelve a couple gin and tonics.

Anyway. As I was saying.

A bunch of new people are starting to visit Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven, and you're making me nervous. I am glad you are visiting, but I can't be funny when I know you are sitting there trying to decide what you think of me. It is like trying to pee when your boss is at the urinal next to you. Or, worse, when your mother is at the urinal next to you.

You can't imagine the pressure. I am a Libra. Do you understand what that means?! Crash course in astrology: Libras Must Please Every Single Person On The Planet. Does that clarify the situation? It wasn't my choice to be a Libra. It was written in the stars the way that LeAnn Rimes and Elton John's love was written in the stars. So, my Libraness or Librahood or Librarian Tendencies cause me to care about your needs, not simply my own needs.

What do you need from me? Well, according to BoB, who is going to host me free for a whole year if I win (and I hope to God that BoB has a jacuzzi and french doors leading to a sundeck off my bedroom) I have to be a good representative of LGBT blogs. Based on that fact, I threw in that comment the other day about ecstasy - even though I have never done it. Because you know how all those lesbians are on The X. Or The E. Or whatever. Seriously, those lesbians can't live without their ecstasy or their L Word. And I want their votes.

And as for you gay guys who are checking out Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven, I know you just want your bloggers hot. Come on, you know that's why you're here. You like to imagine that I am boy band hot. I've seen the way you look at my picture. (No, really, I can see you. Get your hand off your crotch, Rob). I'm sure you probably are in love with me. When I look at that picture, I'm even in love with me. But remember that it is a headshot that was taken for me by my friend The Midget. And not only that, it has been - um - "interpreted" by the talented Aaron Edwards. If you saw me walking down the street in Portland, you would know that I do not look like a movie star from 1930 who has been colorized. I am a huge dork. So don't vote for me based on the hotness factor, because that's just marketing.

Am I funny? Maybe. Sometimes. I could live with people voting for me because I'm funny. But, in all honesty, I am sure that you'd meet a lot of people as funny as I am if everyone would just quit making those poor junior high school kids take Ritalin. My humor comes from the fact that I am not medicated and probably should be. So, please don't vote for me because you think I'm funny. Because I will let you down. I promise.

I feel as if I need to make this blog more gay or something. Sexier. But I can't get it up. As I said before, I am through whoring myself out for votes.

Instead, I will post this picture of my best friend and housemate, The Handsome Prince.

Isn't he so hot? Isn't he so gay?

Now go vote for me, because pimping out your best friend for votes is about as LGBT as you can get. Besides, BoB's offer to host me is desperately needed. I will definitely need a place to live after THP finds out I did this.

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