Somehow I forgot that today was Saint Patrick's Day. How on earth could I think I'd finish up a contest on a day which would ordinarily be spent searching for leprechauns? Anyway, as I said yesterday, I held a Goulash contest for the worst song on which I could spend a download on iTunes. As one might expect, the people of Goulash rocked the polls. Really, I don't understand how the central nervous system of this fair site withstood the barrage of votes; Goulash must be so smart that it's creating its own neural network. Nevertheless, after a few hours of tabulating the results and narrowing it down to two finalists, I was faced with a stark and terrifying decision: did I really want to get into a recursive iTunes competition? Allow me to explain.
The winning prize for this contest is an iTunes credit that I won off from a contest on iwannaspankjenniferlovehewitt.com. The administrator of that contest entered my contest, and I soon foresaw an endless chain of contests, where the only two entrants were the two of us. I'd be so intent on beating Shawn, I'd give up on society entirely. I'd sit around in sweatpants, screaming obscure zydeco songs at my monitor, all in a feeble attempt to triumph in our increasingly esoteric contests. It'd get so bad that I'd eat applesauce with my hands and throw the empty containers at the mail man, with the excuse that I had a contest to win, a contest with no other competitors. I've been down this path, friends, and it's not a pretty one.
And so, with all appropriate fanfare, the winner of the iTunes credit goes to Mr. Chippy, who blew all other contestants away when he suggested a Billy Ocean song. Billy Ocean played a pivotal role in my favorite Mr. Show sketch ever (Operation Hell on Earth), so it was a little unfair for me to allow the compettition to proceed after I saw that enter. I don't care, though. I run Goulash like my own banana republic. If I want to allow a contest to run after I've already picked a winner, so be it. And if I want to write an entry after I've been drinking on St. Paddy's day, well, I don't know who's going to stop me. Thanks to all of you who entered the contenst, and here's hoping you manage to memorize my favorite Mr. Show sketches before I hold the next one.
Posted by Cody at March 17, 2005 8:28 PMI guess we got to do it again. "Oh, Ah!" Yeah, you're ready. That's for Ray Charles. Give it up for Ray Charles and his beautiful legacy. And thank you, Ray Charles, for living.
I got so many people to thank tonight. First I want to start it out with Taylor Hackford. Taylor, you took a chance, man. I mean that love for Ray Charles was deep, down in the earth. It's cracked open. And it's spilling. And everybody's drowning in this love. I thank you for taking a chance on this film. And thank you for waiting 15 years to get me to do it. I want to thank you.
I want to thank Crusader. I want to thank my agents. I want to thank Rick Kurtzman. I want to thank Kim Hodges. I want to thank Steve Smooke. I want to thank my managers, Jaime King and Marcus King. Let's live this African American dream. It's beautiful. I'm glad I'm with you. I ain't never leaving you. I'm glad I'm with you.
I got a chance to meet a whole lot of people, experiencing this. And other people I want to thank, I want to thank my sister. Four feet, eleven inches of nothing but pure love. I want to thank my daughter for telling me just before I got up here, "If you don't win dad, you're still good."
I'm just ... I see Oprah and I see Halle. I just want to say your names. I want to talk to you later. Both of you. Because Oprah got -- allowed me to meet somebody by the name of Sidney Poitier. And, yes, Sidney Poitier said, "I saw you once. And I looked in your eyes and there was a connection." And he says, "I give to you responsibility." So, I'm taking that responsibility tonight. And, thank you, Sidney.
This is probably going to be the toughest part of this speech. My daughter shares my grandmother's name, "Marie." My grandmother's name is Estelle Marie Talley. She's not here tonight. And this is going to be the toughest part. But she was my first acting teacher. She told me to stand up straight. Put your shoulders back. Act like you got some sense.
We would go places. And I would wild out. And she would say, "Act like you've been somewhere." And then when I would act the fool, she would beat me. She would whup me. And she could get an Oscar for the way she whupped me because she was great at it. And after she whipped me, she would talk to me and tell me why she whipped me. She said I want you to be a southern gentleman. She still talks to me now. Only now, she talks to me, in my dreams. And I can't wait to go to sleep tonight because we got a lot to talk about. I love you.
someone's been saving that one up for a while
Posted by: xyz at March 18, 2005 8:00 AMSweet fancy Moses, I don't know what I did to deserve such a speech. In light of its awesomeness, I'm doubling Mr. Chippy's prize. That's right, he's now getting TWO downloads from iPod. Am I not benevolent?
Posted by: Cody at March 19, 2005 10:05 AM