UPDATE: And they're gone! Thanks everyone!
I was beginning to get nervous about competing with Erik Henriksen and his ten loyal voters (no, YOU can suck it!) at the 2010 Barfly Awards. I was angered that even though he was not attending the ceremony, he steadfastly refused to give me his ten tickets to bolster my voting bloc. He knows full well ten votes for him could split the Mercury voters and give the win to this Jay Horton fellow who writes for our mortal enemy. You see, I’m not just seeking a Barfly award for myself. It’s never been about me. It’s always been about us, dear readers.
Henriksen doesn’t understand that, or doesn't want to. That made me angry. So today I barged into his office, ready to tell him off, when I was stopped dead in my tracks by a pitiful sight: There he was, the great Erik Henriksen, struggling to assemble his Iron Man Slurpee cup straw, and being utterly defeated. My heart broke for the man, and I could only offer an encouraging smile when he finally finished the assembly and happily twirled the Iron Man figurine around the straw, making dreamy "wooshing" noises.
How can I feel anger towards this man? I can’t. Obviously, he looks up to me.
That doesn’t mean I want him to win. In fact, now I want him to lose even more than I did before. I can’t explain it. So in order to help make that happen, I’m putting up my own five pairs of tickets to the Barfly Awards [this Sunday, April 11th, at Mt Tabor Theater from 8 pm to midnight] for the first to e-mail me with “strawman” in the subject line. But just like Erik, I too have conditions: You've got to pledge to vote for me for Most Good Writer and you have to have an AWESOME FUCKING TIME! That's it.
I look forward to seeing you at the awards!