SA Blog Awards

Somebody suggested I enter the SA Blog Awards.
I had no idea there were Blog Awards. I'm not even sure what the criteria is for being eligible.

I do know that I'm so vain I only write so that I can read my own words on the internet. Sure on the odd occasion I will cosy on over to other websites of interest, like  Paige's blog which always tickles my funny bone, or Azra's blog which never fails to get me thinking.

I could spend an entire day between my blog and Twitter, but quite honestly it would be a very selfish day of me indulging in my own writing or status updates. That's one of the reason's I hardly visit Facebook any longer.
Twitter and the blog is about me.
Facebook is about everyone else.
That and the fact that Facebook is fast losing it's appeal.
I think it was the advent of Farmville that really sounded the death knell of Facebook for me.
Just when I thought they found a way to scrape the bottom of the barrel, they came up with Mafia Wars!

So back to these SA Blog Awards.
I don't know anyone that's entered nor what the prizes are, but this could be something to work toward for next year.
What happen's if you have a mystery blog?
I know someone who does.
You know, where you have a blog but don't disclose who you are.
Like a graffiti doodler who spraypaints walls under the cover of darkness.
What happens if one of these mystery bloggers wins the awards?
Do they collect their prize like Mzekezeke, wearing a balaclava to the event?

Just curious.

Are there Twitter awards too?
Because I have about 8500 Twitter updates, and 400 followers.
That must count for something, surely.
I always wondered who it was that read my tweets, all 8500 of them.
It's quite heartwarming to know that the crazy things I have to say are of interest to some of you out there.
Even if it's bots or spammers that are popping in.

This reminds me of a tweet I read sometime earlier this week.
This girl saw two homeless people making out behind Checkers one afternoon, and shouted "Get a room!"
Then she realised it may have been insensitive to scream "Get a room!" to homeless people.
So I told her the politically correct response would have been "Get a box!"
Does that sound right?
I don't know what's polite anymore.
I mean I know the homeless folk in Sandton have pretty high standards compared to the rest of the country.
Like they won't eat McDonalds, even if you bought it for them.
They'll do KFC, but McDonalds is just beneath them.

I had Steer's for dinner last night.
Sounds weird to say I had "Whacky Wednesday" for dinner.
Dinner is supposed to be a fine dining experience, not something Whacky in a brown paperbag; especially not something that come's at "Two for the price of one" specials.
So I did a really daft thing last night.
I woke up just after midnight (that's not the daft bit) and I was feeling snacky.
I opened the fridge and there it was.... the second Steer's burger that I hadn't eaten earlier.
So I warmed that bad boy up and wolfed it down.
(That sounded so gay!)
Scratch that.
I heated the burger up and ate it like a real man eats a Steer's Whacky Wednesday burger.

Needless to say, I got heartburn and thought I was going to die.
My first thought went out to the guy who would be doing my autopsy.
Opens me up and finds an undigested Steer's burger.
How gross!

Then there's these crazy dreams I've been having lately...

But that's for another blog post some other time...