I can remember, somewhat vaguely, when the Versatile Blogger Awards were making the rounds and I received a nomination. I felt so… confused. It’s like, so it’s an award… but it’s not an award? I get nominated but there’s no winner and no prize money? What gives? And then came the Kreative Blogger Awards, the Lucky Sevens, and a slew of others. And all the while, I aint got no stinking reward cash! So you can imagine how “honored” I was to find out that I’ve been nominated for a Liebster Blog Award, which also doesn’t come with cash!
Ah, I’m just kidding, Carly! I’m very honored that you chose to nominate me for this. But just for fun, I thought I’d give an acceptance speech loaded with sarcasm, self-pity and recrimination. People always talk about how happy they are, how unworthy they are, and who they want to thank. Me? I want to talk about who I BLAME! And all the while, I’ll be reminding everybody just how worthy I am of their praise and how crappy a job I think they’re doing of kissing my ass! Brace yourself, this is not going to be pretty…
First off, I blame my parents. I didn’t ask to be born! And what’s more, I blame them for providing me with the kind of stable, privileged, upper-middle class upbringing with just aint cool anymore. If I want to be a successful writer, I need a hook, an angle, a background I can exploit for cheap sympathy and street cred! Mom, Pop – why couldn’t we have been the kind of broken home that inspires it’s kids to be tough and responsible? Why couldn’t I have grown up in a neighborhood where kids were badass and throw downs involved more than just hurt feelings? I can’t help but think that if I had picked up a few flesh wounds in my time, I might also be hawking vitamin water and my own line of apparel.
Second, I blame my friends who made the unforgivable mistake of believing in me. Everybody knows that the best success stories come from overcoming the odds and flying in the face of all the naysayers. So may I say, you’ve all failed me terribly! Where was the “you’re never going to make it” or the “you just don’t have what it takes” speeches? How am I supposed to succeed with all you people telling me what I’m doing sounds “interesting” or that “you’re all pulling for me”? Didn’t you see Million Dollar Baby? Do you really think she would have become a great fighter if her momma said “Everybody in the trailer park is cheering for ya, honey”?
Third, I blame my peers and colleagues for not challenging me enough. Sure, you’ve been supportive, friendly, and generally a pleasure to be around, but did you ever once think of ME? It’s a well known fact that people need conflict in order to be creative, so why the hell didn’t any of you troll me or call me a hack? The best I could do was some kid who barely spoke passable English and didn’t even seem to understand what the article he was slamming was about. What kind of nemesis is that? If I’m going to nominate anybody for anything, it’s going to be for the Crappy Enemy Award. The nominees in that category are… all of you!
And last, I’d like to blame God. Of all the generations and countries I could have been born into, why did you stick me with Generation Echo here in Canada? Were you aware that I would grow up in a time and place where the standard of living was ranked highest in the world? Were you aware that I would grow up surrounded by a diverse array of people who would teach me so many interesting things, like how lucky I was and how rich and wonderful the world really is? Yeah, I know you’re busy running the universe and all that, but seriously, you could have done a way better job on me! Thanks to you, I got no complaints! Well, sure, I could complain about a few things, but the who the hell would want to listen? I’ve never seen a war, never known hunger, never known poverty or neglect. I’ve never seen a person die or been traumatized by the sheer brutality that some people have to face on a daily basis. In short, I’m not interesting! Sure, you stuck me with a real nice situation, but no one wants to hear about nice! If it’s true that a person is the sum total of their experiences, might I then say that I’m boring and it’s clearly your fault.
So thank you all for this honor and I hope you’re happy. I know I am 😉
Okay, sarcasm done. Hope you found it funny because I was kind of blowing my cover towards the end there. I really can’t be too sarcastic when it comes to the suffering of other people and how I’ve never had to deal with that. That’s just too plain stark and serious to ever really joke about. But I hope my point was clear. I am a lucky man and I want to pass that on to as many people as I possibly can before I die. I’ve felt for the longest time that that’s my Dharma, my purpose since I’ve been dealt a pretty good hand. What the universe gives ya, you should pay forward, or back, as the case may be.
Oh, and I will be sure to actually follow the rules and nominate people. Hang on, that’s coming up in my next post 🙂
Stories by Williams 
Would it make you feel better if I insulted you now?
Depends, what do you got for me?
you asked for it.
the following insult is meant in jest and is not meant to be taken seriously:
“your blogging smells worse than my cat’s litter box!”
Oh c’mon! If this were a roast, I would be telling you to throw some bile and a lot more profanity in there. Anything involving cats seem nice to me, as I love them!
okay, don’t say i didn’t warn you!
“you poor son of a b*%$@, all you have are your blog and your nerd stuff. i think half the people on that piece of s(*$ are there out of pity for you. The rest are as nerdy as you. The only person who isn’t a nerd or there out of pity is your wife…and wouldn’t you know it? She’s a Lovebot. Porr little geek”
That mean enough for you? If it’s too mean, please don’t hurt me!
Alright… that’ll have to do for now 😛
you’re not mad?
What? Of course not! I demand brutality where roasts are concerned. Unless people insult you, you don’t know if they really care. For example:
“Matt, you are a total hack! You ARE that douchebag who sits in the corner of the cafe working on the manuscript nobody’s going to read. Hell, you don’t even have the good grace to use a MacBook and sit in a Starbucks with the good stereotypes! You sit in an indie cafe working on that crappy PC, hogging the only power cord and taking up space. Well, the servers did a poll and they all voted that between getting panned and dying a pariah and dying unacknowledged, you were destined for the latter. Congrats on the blog award chump, now get the waiter’s c*** out of your mouth and get up here and say some douche bag words!”
And of course you deserve every award you get. Congrats, Matthew.
Funny thing about growing up in the hood…it comes with all sorts of stereotypes that may or may not stick. Take me, for instance. I grew up in the “hood” with all the unfortunate trappings around me, but fortunately not in me. But let me clarify, I grew up in a housing project around the corner from Yale. So for people who don’t know anything about New Haven CT, when I say, “Yeah, I grew up in the hood,” they laugh at me, tell me to stop kidding around, because there couldn’t possibly be a hood in CT, could there? “And besides…you don’t act all hood-like.” Whatever that is.
As for roasting you…with cats? Hmmm. Let’s see. Matt is so nice he’s like a baby kitten. Did I do that right? Did my hood-ness show?
Shucks.
Anywhoo, keep drinking that awesome sauce, but not too much, you’re making the rest of us look like slackers.
Okay, in the event that I ever do get a roast, I want to hear some real insults! Things that involve swear words and brutality, but of course said with love 🙂 But we’ll save that for later. Thanks, Khaalidah, you keep me awesome!
Congrats!