Good morning, Gentlemen. Welcome to another SJ.com Awards vote.

so, i shouldn't talk about how i voted byh troll of the year? or that i have him on iggy?

 

you have a girlfriend?

 

feud involving hoops? how about him and the new montgomery se?

 

come on tom, your vacation wasn't that long, was it?

 

Dumbest or oddest banner ad in relation to thread title/subject: I nominate any thread on the decline of the industry and the banner ad looking for "Freelanace writers."
I cringe every time I see it.

 

the guys at work will tell you it was ... but they like to bitch a lot.

 

Hm, this will actually take some thought. Any more suggestions for post and thread of the year?

 

Posted by Moddy, June 14

;D

 

I'm going to pull some things saved at the Fallout Shelter for just this occasion. This was nominated by the late, unlamented Good Doctor:

From jgmacg:

How the housing market works...



+ =

"Market Forces"



These "Market Forces" often dictate Sudden Reassessment of Consumer Loan Status
and Swift Readjustments in Consumer Confidence



Which leads to Market-Inspired Relocation



And the Pursuit of Opportunity Elsewhere,



Including a more proportional, optimized "Housing Market."





This once worried some people.




But others remained cool and unconcerned.





Because the Market always knows what it's doing.

 

And this was nominated by barsuk, from the "Elmore Leonard's 10 Rules for Writing" thread:

http://www.sportsjournalists.com/forum/posts/1593538/

Another one from jgmacg:

What you are about to read is a story.




It was a dark and stormy night.

"They's a rain a-comin'," the child whispered lispingly in the clotted patois of the Gulf lowlands.

"Ye're aye right, sonny!!" bellowed his father gravely.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose!

The father - a tall, sallow Scot with green eyes (one each on either side of a sharp, narrow nose set between angular freckled cheekbones) and red hair on his head, brows, lashes, and beard, had very large ears indeed, and the wide, size 13 feet of a native Highlander, to say nothing of the long, strong, slender hands of the professional zitherist he was - grimaced. His face, a pinched rictus of sudden fear at the breaking loose of hell, was nicely set off by the three-button two-piece suit of gray glengary flannel he had donned that morning, along with a proper pinpoint oxford shirt buttoned down at the collar in stark white Egyptian cotton, to better emphasize the rich aubergine of the four-in-hand Shantung silk tie he'd chosen for himself, which itself was set off by a perfect pocket square of vermillion brocade. His shoes, thick-vamped cap-toed bluchers in cordovan from Church's of London, gleamed richly in the deadly firelight.

But again, all hell was breaking loose.

The room in which they both stood was a rectangular cube. Six-sided, it was thus defined at its outermost boundaries by four walls (one for each ordinal compass point), a floor and a ceiling. The length of the room was slightly greater than its width, which accounts for its designation as a rectangular cube, rather than a cube equal on each plane, which would of course be a cube most accurately described then as square. The ceiling was ten feet above the floor; the floor some ten feet below the ceiling as the crow flies. There were four windows. Confusingly, there wasn't a window set into each of the four walls, as a reasonable person might expect, but rather one wall had two windows, another had one window, and yet another had but one as well. Thus were the four windows distributed across only three walls. This left one wall windowless.

This wall held instead a door. It was neither fully opened, nor fully closed. It might be said that it was ajar.

Across from that door was a table. The table, its legs turned in the French Empire style but with a polished top inlaid with rococo scrollery more in the Venetian manner, was not important.

Hell continued breaking loose.

The wind howled and the rain came down.

"Aye, boy! Wha's happened? All hell's broke loose a-sudden!" shouted the father imploringly.

"Cain't rightly say, Pa," drawled the youngster unctuously. "They's left out the parts that folks doan read!"

 

And here's one of my personal nominations for Post of the Year 2008. It's by Kevin Van Valkenburg, 5:30 p.m. 12 May 2008, on the RIP Chris Ewell thread.

Damn. Got dusty in here all of a sudden.

 

Creatin a category: Funniest Post of 2008. No link, sadly.

Nominated for Funniest Post of the Year ... writing irish solves sportschick's problem with medical expenses: