Has it really been two weeks since we returned from our all-too-brief beach vacation? It has? Shit. Where does the time go? We better get busy and hand out some Beachies. The envelopes, please.
The John Oates Award for Digital Repugnance: And the Beachie goes to.... Dabysan.
Dabysan has a knack for creating video game avatars that make you wish they were real so you could beat them senseless for being so douchey. He was on top of his game two weeks ago. He set the bar high with "Fish Styx." But after we ventured out to purchase Guitar Hero 5, he surpassed it easily with "WEE WILLY." It's tough to decide which is more annoying: the top hat or the all-caps.
The Giada de Laurentiis Award for Culinary Snobbery: And the Beachie goes to.... Emma Peel. Words cannot describe the look on Emma's face when she found the head of iceberg lettuce in the refrigerator that was presumably for her salad. Words can describe, however, how she felt about said iceberg lettuce. And she used them. Extensively. Her tirade lasted a good twenty minutes or so until it was pointed out that the iceberg was for the tacos the next evening and that she'd overlooked the mixed greens hidden under that carton of CarrieNation's Muscle Milk.
The Robert MacMillan Award for Excessive Persnicketiness: And the Beachie goes to.... Potsy. Potsy ran the dishwasher five times a day, and nothing that was dropped on the floor stayed there for more than ten seconds. He also took it upon himself to ensure that nearly everything in the house was at right angles, the notable exception being the stuffed bee which - as he pointed out - didn't belong to him. There is also strong circumstantial evidence that he disappeared at one point to the downstairs bathroom to take a dump, which is totally something Rob would do.
The Wil Wheaton Award for Projectile Vomiting: And the Beachie goes to.... Carrie Nation.
Carrie claims she ran the half-marathon, but the non-running contingent stationed at the finish line never saw her. (This isn't, by the way, the first time her race participation has been in doubt.) What is certain is that she puked more than anyone that Sunday. Five times, all told. That's a pretty strong committment to perpetuating a fraud.
The Cosmo Kramer Award for Random Screwball Awesomeness:
And the Beachie goes to.... Liz Judge. As everyone else sweated the
details the night before the race - pinning numbers on t-shirts,
coordinating the rendezvous, mildly panicking - Liz seemed blissfully unaware that
the next day was anything of significance. She filled her iPod shuffle
with songs by the Go! Team and wondered idly who else might be
showering early the next morning. Her post-race account was the most
spirited of anyone's. Probably because there is strong evidence that
she actually, you know, ran the race.
The Chris Martin Award for Drizzly Beachcombing: And the Beachie goes to.... Megan and Jason. The weather at the beach after the weekend was less than ideal, but Megan and Jason didn't let it deter them. Thought to be last minute scratches after a tragic family emergency, they showed up late and were determined to make the most of it. While lesser mortals stayed dry and watched Arrested Development DVD's, they refused to allow the inclement weather to curtail their beach time, even if they did have to dig out the hoodies.
The Alton Brown Award for Epicureal Excellence:
And the Beachie goes to.... Hotrod. There ultimately was no beach fondue (whatever that means), but the homemade macaroni and cheese seemed to be a hit, the asparagus wasn't mushy, and the double-batch Steeler Pie disappeared faster than is healthy. That's practically a hat trick.
The Cujo Award for Pain-in-the-Ass Canine Proclivities: And the Beachie goes to.... Daisy.
She knows what she did.
The Towel d'Or Grand Jury Prize:
The bylaws of the Academy of Seashore Recreation Arts and Sciences stipulate that the dispensation of the coveted Towel d'Or is purely at the voters' discretion. There is no requirement that it be awarded if a clear winner does not emerge from the year's crop of beachcombers. Sadly, this year, no Towel d'Or will be awarded. A combination of the short week and unfortunate precipitation prohibited any one contender from displaying the unwavering dedication to beachgoing activities that the jury likes to see. We sincerely hope that the field will rebound next year. We have the utmost faith that it will, and that the 2010 Beachies will be the best yet.
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