Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I mean, you look like you could hold me down by the neck with a triple-leg lock tummy fold followed by a ten minute session of noogies, only stopping when the crown of my head is as red as a monkeys butt. No thank you.

Now, here’s another theory: you’re just a sweetheart, convinced by some over-worked, over-paid, under-skilled ad exec to play the role of real estate bitch. And, if that’s the case … well, it’s genius. Got me. I actually thought that you wanted to kick my … but you … then I … HA. You’re good Anna, real good. The heavenly gates of gold nominations have just opened up and guess what? There you are. MAUH! MAUH!

Just in case my theory isn’t 100% correct, let me just say that the black one piece jumpsuit looks lovely and … I bruise easy.

Wanted: Lunatic stark raving mad fans that are willing to run naked in public forums, paint their faces with Real”ad”tor pride, scream puns at the top of their lungs and beat the crap out of the arch rival fans. If this sounds like you, click here.
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I couldn’t think of a better way to kick-off 2010 than kicking off a new chapter in the Real”ad”tor Awards story. So, starting in 2010, we will now be taking website submissions. Yep, you’ve asked, and now you’ll receive. And, to be honest with you, I think the real talent is online anyway. WAIT … THAT WASN’T ME TYPING, SERIOUSLY.

Anywho, to wet your palate (just a bit) before the new year and let you know just where we’re going to set the bar, I thought I’d bring you a little teaser. It’s my pleasure to introduce none other than Earl & Marilyn Mendoza and their website. Which, by the way, is frickin’ sweet. Between the pleasing colors, modern layout and nifty navigation graphics, you will undoubtedly agree that they deserve nothing less than gold.

But … they did one better. They gave us a hook. Or rather, a little something to remember them by. The decided to cleverly merry there catchy headline, “Shopping For A Realtor?”, with a literal interpretation of just what they were talking about. Looks like Marilyn found herself a good deal on some Earl.

These two are a couple of characters. Bravo Home Team, Platinum it is.

Sometimes it’s hard to be a gangsta.

Reference

Wanted: Lunatic stark raving mad fans that are willing to run naked in public forums, paint their faces with Real”ad”tor pride, scream puns at the top of their lungs and beat the crap out of the arch rival fans. If this sounds like you, click here.
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Glen, the stage is yours.

Yeah … what he said. See you all on the flip side of this holiday thing.

BTW: Glen will be under the mistletoe at noon on the 24th for anyone interested in little tongue wrestling match before the long weekend.

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However, I repeat, HOWEVER. If you were so fortunate, so blessed, so fortuitous to be named John Albee … well then, you are in luck my friend. Because — John Albee is the ONLY name you need in real estate. And, if you’re smart (like Edie and Cynthia who, like many of us, weren’t so fortunate at birth), you’d jump on board the John Albee wagon. It’s heading to the promise land and these gals are riding it all the way to the end. Brilliant move ladies.

In an attempt to reach John Albee for comment, I was presented with a menu of Johns to pick from. In my brief moment of uncertainty, I panicked and quickly hit zero. When I was greeted by the receptionist, I asked her to tell the boys that they’ve got a platinum, which I’ve aptly renamed the “John Albee Platinum Nomination”.

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So, why don’t you have that puppy bagged? Wait … don’t tell me, I already know the answer. When you’re money, material possessions don’t matter.

Look, I get the whole “I won’t out-dress you” bit, but c’mon. A man with such exquisite taste in men’s wear? The stonewashed jean look didn’t fool me.

I’ll admit, the bitchin’ “half-hand in the tight-fit pocket” and mullet had me going for awhile. He’s just a good ‘ole boy, right? Yeah, nice try. Once I caught a glimpse of that lapel, I knew exactly what we were dealing with.

Well played Steven, well played. In addition to stealing a few laughs from your biggest fan, you’ve also stolen the coveted gold nomination. You are one smooth criminal my friend.

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This scene reminds me of a story. When I was just a little runt (when peeing in the snow was a favorite pastime), I’d often gather with my friends at our local sledding hill for a day of fun (D&D knows what I’m talking about). We’d start in the morning and finish when our moon boots froze over. On one particular outing, I was feeling rather confident in my ability to control the sleek dog sled. Rather than lie in the standard tummy position, I chose to be a hotdogger (much like little Mrs. Sunshine in the pink headband) and ride in the hang-five position. Considering this was pre-snowboarding, I thought the idea was quite innovative. I was wrong.

Look, not a year goes by and I hear about some kid, on some hill … well, it’s enough to make me sick. Moral of the story? Ride low and go slow. Yes — I know, I know. “Well, Doyle and Devoe are standing up on their sleds, why can’t I?” While that might be true, they’re professionals. There should have been a disclaimer. Shame on them.

D&D, I know exactly where I’m heading. I’m throwing on my long-johns, hopping on the toboggan and meeting you guys in the chalet. I’ve stuffed a little something gold in my snow pants that I’m just dying to show you.

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Wait, there’s so much more. The gifts. They just keep on coming.

Punch. Not Steve. Not John, or Albert, or Farnsworth. Punch. I think Rod Stewart said it best, “Some guys have all the luck”. And just what do you do when you’re blessed with parents who have such incredible taste in names? You honor them by purchasing a personalized phone number. 416.PUNCH.ME. Don’t mind if I do. Where does the line begin my friend? I hate you for being perfect Punch.

And, because perfection just isn’t good enough for these two, Punch, and the lovely Missis, decided to rub a little salt in the wound by displaying what appears to be two Emmy’s. The son’s of bitches.

Well, I hate to do it, but I must. I’m FedExing a platinum nomination for the two of you to review and sign. Yet another trophy to add to your collection. Yippee.

Let’s all thank Jason Allen for sending us this little reminder of just how much the rest of us suck.

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Before Evaporation

After Evaporation

Oh no Wats! Dude. What happened? It’s just that I thought the three of you looked soooo happy together. I guess, as they say, all good things must come to an end. But, I hate to see it end like this.

I must say though, I do like your style. Someone crosses you and … POOF. They’re gone. Almost as if you’ve evaporated them into thin air. Just in case that’s not what happened, I do have one other theory. It’s possible that you traveled back in time and changed the course of history, thus eliminating the physical presence of the missing girl in this photo. It’s almost like it never happened. You know … like Marty’s family photo in Back to the Future.

Anyway, it’s all just speculation at this point. Only the three of you know what truly happened. Regardless, you’re still the man, “Class” is your middle name and you still retain the rights to the silver nomination. Life is good my friend. And remember, if you need a shoulder to cry on (because it looks like part of your shoulder was taken out by a pissed-off left breast), I’m here for you dog.

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1. As any good business person knows, a true measurement of success is when your company is referred to by its initials. You know, like IBM, BK or KFC. With the classic capitalize and colorize method, you’ve managed to begin the long process of branding your peeps to start calling you TPF. Smart move guys.
2. “Your home advertised 24hrs a day until SOLD”, are you kidding me? Hope your egos aren’t writing checks that your bodies can’t cash. You might be in luck, I’ve heard rumors that stuff like this is possible on the World Wide Web — I dunno. It’s a tall-order, but I got a feeling that you two are the types that can pull it off. Good luck.
3. You say Toe-may-toe and I say Toe-ma-toe. You spell it real estate and they spell it Realestate. Why? Because it’s how big deals’ roll. I get it guys.
4. Here’s the challenge: you want to rotate between red and blue on every other line, and you know (because you’re borderline genius) that red is reserved for the important info, like a telephone number. So what do you do when the order of the information is such that if you follow your rotating color formula, the “less important” information would have to be in red? Well, if you’re TPF (see, I’m tracking with you guys) you say screw the order of information, and redirect the eye with a stylized arrow (in red nonetheless). Problem solved and you look cool. Nice.

I could just go on and on, but I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of you two. I’d like to save a little something for the next round. You know? But, no need for you guys to wait to receive your silver nomination, it’s been sent via the World Wide Web, and apparently, it works 24 hours a day. WOW!

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