Salutations, Socks followers.
The “Shorty Awards”, i.e., the Shorties, arose out of nowhere late last year to declare themselves the defacto place for awards for twittering. “Awards for twittering”, you muse, munching on your kibble or whatever passes for kibble in your region. “That sounds entirely vain and silly.”
Vain and silly, of course, are a cat’s stock in trade. It really is, at the end of the day, about ourselves, and we’ll do what makes the most efficient path to self-aggrandizement.
With that in mind, legions of Socks fans heard his little shout and nominated Socks up through to the ranks of top-five “humor” twitterers for the Shorties. He is now locked in a battle of sorts, a battle that only the Internet could summon: between himself, Darth Vader, a viral video maker, a guy named Joe, and “fake Sarah Palin”. Quite a motley crew indeed.
This battle is, of course, meaningless, a popularity contest based on who has the most effective means to convince twitter users to write a random line into their feeds. Some are more than willing; others not so much. Don’t for a moment think this affects Socks or his life in any way; the legions of followers, fans, and curious onlookers seem to keep the little dope quite happy. And speaking of dope, the mailed-in cat toys have assisted as well. I don’t know how he makes it down the stairs some nights…
To any extent, it is my opinion that there would be something inherently hilarious in his winning. The heady weight would fall upon myself and Fatty Food Guy to provide a proper reward for all this, and while the jury is still out on what that will be, we will likely solicit your opinion for what such a reward may consist of. In the meantime…
Simply click on this link and your message will be sent to the nib-nobs at the Shorties (really some sort of PR firm) that you wish Socks to be the dominant “winner” in this fixed race. It would be entertaining, nay, enchanting, if he got 1000 votes from his nearly five thousand followers. It’s not much in the grand scheme of life (give me a good litterbox and some chicken anytime) but it would, I hope you agree, be pleasant.
Ah, some errant yarn threads are calling me, so I thank you for your time in either case. Adieu.