Friday, March 30, 2012

Want To Win This Autographed Chris Sanders Print?


You can!

Maybe.

If your name is the name drawn completely at random by an unbiased, unfeeling, uncaring computer that is not easily swayed by the animated gifs that you made of your cat dressed in that horribly misshapen Tardis-themed scarf that you knitted while drunk on vodka and Slurpees.

Still want in?

Read on!

As I am a lazy bastard with a large pile of X-Factor TPBs to read, I need this contest to be as fast and hassle-free as possible. To enter, simply join our small band of followers in the lower right-hand side of this blog. Next Thursday at 11:59 pm E.S.T. I'll paste all of the followers into excel and randomize the list to pick a winner. Friday morning I'll send the winner an email requesting their name and mailing address, so you must use a real email address if you want to win.

Good luck to all!



Note: Entries from our blog and Tumblr will be combined. Only one poster will be awarded. If the first name selected cannot be contacted through the email address provided by their 'follower' link, a second name will be drawn in their place. And so on. Seriously, is any of this really necessary? Haven't you ever entered a contest before? Why are you even still reading this? Are you hoping for some insider info on a way to better your odds? Maybe some dirt on your favorite celebrity? A confession about the age I was when I first dry-humped a girl? Stop reading this now! I mean it. I can type for as long as you can read. Do you really want to be found dead at age 88 sitting at your computer reading the teensy-tiny footnote of a crummy contest that ended decades before? You do? Fine, then I'll keep typing. Still there? I don't get you, you know. There's literally millions of other things that you could be doing right now. Hell, there are millions of porn sites alone! So maybe you're a right-proper prude who hates pornography, is that it? If I say a swear-word, will that scare you away? Stubborn ass. How was that? Did you feel a cold chill run up your spine when you read that? Cuz I was talking about you. I can't believe you're still doing this. If either one or both of your parents had even half of your willpower, they would still be married and your dad would've pulled out like he'd promised and your mom never would've forgotten to take her pale pink peace-of-mind pill and you'd never be here belligerently browsing an intentionally eye-straining set of run-on sentences. You're. Still. Reading. It blows my mind to think that you have this much free time on your hands. Get a hobby. Read a book. Learn to play the ukelele before the almost-over fad of playing crappy pop songs on a ukelele is finally over. Just do something. Anything. I don't give a crap so long as you're no longer reading this. Because I'm just about ready to-- Hello? Are you still there? You haven't left, have you? Cuz I thought we were starting to really connect there. Oh, well. You'll be back. And I'll be waiting.)

No comments:

Post a Comment