Recently in She is so important, she gets her own Kate-a-gory Category

We have officially entered the homestretch.

There are only three way less than two days 24 hours left in which you, my most beloved imaginary readers (and your very real friends, relatives and colleagues) can cast your votes for me in the 2008 South African Blog Awards (for which the likes of me, in what could only have been a gross oversight or serious glitch in the time/space continuum, has miraculously been nominated for in three (yes THREE!) different categories), and well... desperate times, I think you'd agree, call for the most desperate of measures.

Which leaves me with little choice but to pull out the big guns. Now, this could either mean whipping out my spectacular DDD boobs... (which would mean having that, so... that's a no then), or resorting to tears a la Hillary Clinton did back in January before the New Hampshire Primaries... and trust me, on me? That would be FAR scarier.

OR? I could simply follow the example of most African politicians and resort to good, old-fashioned bribery and exploitation.

I've chosen the latter.

The bribed: That would be you, your friends, your relatives, your colleagues, and your pets. No seriously... no need for opposable thumbs to vote. At this point we don't discriminate or pay heed to minor technicalities like that. As long as Fluffy, Rover, Tinkerbell and Meatball have e-mail addresses of their own. Only one vote per e-mail address, but luckily, nowadays, people (and animals?) have many secondary e-mail addresses. See how great that is for this particular exercise? (And here you thought you would never again find a use for that other old hotmail address that has been overtaken by spam...)

The exploited: That would be my very, very sweet and attractive roommate.

Confused?

Don't worry, she is too. But no! I assure you: I DO have her permission for this. Well, if we use the term permission loosely...

As if living within close proximity to me and my coffee-at-3a.m. habit isn't... um... challenging enough on anyone's senses and sensibilities, the saintly girl also puts up with my incessant chattering, my off-key-yet-enthusiastic singing in the shower and my ability to almost hourly, shed the equivalent of the amount of hair that can be found in Amy W(h)inehouse's beehive weave.

And now? I am totally, completely, utterly and shamelessly exploiting her beauty (which she has more than enough of to go around, so really, it's only fair that she should pay for it in this way then) and her youth by launching the following desperate campaign (which makes even the dirtiest antics among American presidential candidates seem childish and amateurish):

Vote for Redsaid in the 2008 South African Blog Awards, and You Could Win a Date With Roommate Kate!

We're still ironing out the logistics... which is challenging, to say the least, since I don't know how to either iron or be logical. At all.

Ah, how do I even begin to describe your prize? She is fair, Roommate Kate is. She is delicate, yet tall, tanned, twenty-one, with long, flowing dark-blond hair, streaked with natural, sun-kissed highlights. Her smile is wide and quick, her disposition sweet and her limbs long and lean. She is a student, so there won't be long, awkward silences during your Date With Roommate Kate, because as if all aforementioned traits aren't more than enough, she just HAD to have a BRAIN AS WELL.

So yes, as you can see then... she is absolutely, unfairly fair...

Speaking of which: In the name of fairness (so that no one can accuse us of cheating unfairly!), the contest is open to everyone. Everyone except your average psychopath, serial killer or stalker type, that is. We don't want any harm to come to beautiful Roommate Kate. But yes, this Win a Date With Roommate Kate contest is open to all, even to you international folks, because well, Roommate Kate has a passport and is perfectly willing to travel. With me, and my very large, very strong and very Italian brother-in-law (he has connections to the Motherland, if you know what I'm sayin'...) as chaperones. (Which we will be even if the date ends up being local.)

In order to enter, you need to obviously vote for me by clicking on the beautiful SA Blog Awards 08 widget in the upper left side of this blog. The neat thing is, when you vote that way, you are taken straight to the SA Blog Awards voting site, speedily and via police escort, and all you need to do once you arrive there is scroll down to the very bottom of the page and enter your e-mail address and the little code to show them that you are indeed not a spammer. Really, because when you vote thusly, the marks would have already been magically ticked off next to my name in all the appropriate (or in this case, highly inappropriate) categories.

After that, a confirmation of your vote will be sent to the e-mail address you have entered. Then you just need click on that link (or copy and paste it into your browser)... When you've done all that, kindly e-mail me your voting confirmation after receiving it to be entered into the draw.

Brownie points will be given to those who use their own blogs/sites to further pimp my desperate campaign.

WhadoyouMEAN it is way too labour intensive?!? Just look at how long the voting process in the United States lasts?!

Since some people have already met with all of the above-mentioned criteria, even without the promise of a date with the delectable Roommate Kate dangled in front of their noses like carrots in front of a donkey, we already have a few unwitting front-runners.

These guys for not only pimping me on their site, but for DIGGing me too! Muchas brownie points, cowboys!

Her for turning me into a marquee! A MARQUEE! How cool is that?!? (In order to spot it, view the top of her F is For Fit entry.) That marquee is certainly the closest I've ever come to having my name in lights...

And lastly... him for luring the rest of Australia into voting for me AND FOR ACKNOWLEDGING MY VERY OFFICIAL TITLE!