Good golly, Sister Molly

Molly, the naive Mormon woman with a penchant for cream-filled doughnuts and all things that vibrate has won me an award! Well, tied me an award. I tied with the great Emily Pearson and I couldn't be happier. (Okay, if I'd beaten her into the dust I would have been eating-a-cream-filled-doughnut happy. But I'm still happy.) I'm also shocked and awed. It pays off to have five friends with lots of computers to vote from.

I had my acceptance speech all written and found the cutest denim jumper at DI. I was even going to be daring and wear leggings with it so I could outrage all those BYU guys. And then I find out there's no ceremony or anything! All that denim, wasted. Emily and I could have walked up the red carpet hand-in-hand and accepted the award together. She could have worn that adorable straight jacket she models on the cover of her book.  (She would have had to wear heels though and I'd wear my flats because I'm pretty sure she's short.) But instead, all I get is this:

She looks like my mom. Seriously.

I've put the denim back in the closet for another special occasion and I will wear the badge with pride on my blog. I am a winner! And I'll even buy Emily a drink sometime.

As for what happens to Molly, I picture her finally discovering that what she's really been doing all along is masterbation and she embraces it, creating a line of  adorable vibrators that were so well disguised they became as ubiquitous in Mormon homes as the framed "Proclamation to the Family". She leaves Martin, the odious husband, and finds herself a young boy-toy who fulfills her every fantasy. (You know, doughnuts and chocolate and lots of sex.)

Thank you, Molly, and all my readers. I am so blessed! *sniff*