Holy crap. You must nominate someone for this. Only 131 people have entered so far, which means the odds of winning $5,000 of Intel equipment are currently 1 in 43. Let me put that another way. Say you’re standing in a room with only 43 people? One of you gets $5,000. Can my math possibly be correct on this? Let me know, I was an English major.
As I mentioned before, I’m amongst the judges, so I invite you to play on my heart strings. Stuff to remember:
-Deadline is October 6.
-Nominating yourself is just fine.
-Photos and video are good.
-Community votes are a factor.
I think that’s it. Now go win this, please.
So I’ve been working on this Presidential Election ’08 Schwag feature over at Mighty Goods, and I’m gleeful about all the weird stuff you can get. McCain Condoms, Obama nesting dolls, candidates carved in soap, and so on.
The Palin schwag, especially, is off the charts. There are a few that didn’t make the cut, but were still interesting enough to note.
I found a few voodoo doll options, but only for Palin. I’m actually surprised candidate voodoo dolls aren’t more widely available.
This button wins for best slogan.
Also, there’s this Cafepress shirt. Which I think is supposed to be supportive?
If you’ve seen anything exceptional that I missed, pony up in the comments.
Our friends Rahul and Meg are getting married in a couple of weeks, we’ll be attending two weddings that day (which also happens to be our own five-year wedding anniversary).
Jerry Yoon photography took some great engagement photos. I love getting to see engagement photos, because they always make me look forward to the wedding.
See what I mean? Congrats, Meg and Rahul! Go here if you’d like to see the rest.
Elizabeth’s new light fixture looks like a sea creature.
Before we met Jordan Ferney at the Mighty Haus launch party, Melissa and I were discussing our concern that we might be Ferney fan girls. I get regular inspiration from Oh Happy Day!, and Jordan is our first guest poster at Mighty Haus. You’ll find the rest of her picks at the Haus.
You, sir, are sporting oversized aviator sunglasses, and your shirt is unbuttoned to the middle of your chest. Your head is shaved. You are strutting backward up the street, your arm at a right angle to your body, as you point up the block, greeting someone you know.
That guy? The stranger in the distance? He is the man. “The man,” you would say, if he could hear you, but he is too far. Instead you point silently, profoundly. You point with emphasis.
…You are still doing this — still walking backward, pointing meaningfully at this person, who is no longer visible. The friend walking with you offers his feet an awkward smile, shakes his head.
Maybe the friend walking beside you has a girlfriend. And if he does, she wishes he would hang with you less.
This morning I used the last of some deodorant, and I felt victorious, like I had bested corporate forces that were waiting for me to buy another pack before it was time. I should have left this fateful stick in my gym locker, or dumped it from my bag in a hotel room, or found it dried and crunchy in a drawer crammed with confusing hair products.
For my next feat, I shall use the last of a bottle of honey before it becomes a bear-shaped crystaline brick, or perhaps consume an entire bag of ground-up coffee beans before they start tasting like dirt.
Then we’ll have a party. You bring the coffee.