I'm getting out of the Cap-Con game before I do something crazy, like jump off a bridge, veer my car into an embankment, watch a full season of JAG...or actually win.
Winning would be like a quarter with a string attached to it. Once the drawing for the T-shirt went down and someone else won it, it would be like given that string a tug, leaving my hand just as empty as it was when I first attempted masterbation.
Yes, getting out now - completely disappointed in my Cap-Con record - is probably the best for me and those involved. Granted, my force feedings of attempted humor will give the DIE bombers less to do, but I'm sure they'll be fine once they're in purgatory, forced to click FUNNY on everything Pauly Shore has ever said.
So, it's been both a pleasantly and an unfortunately educational experience, people (by people I mean the original owners of my FUNNY votes). I wish everyone the best of luck.
I'd like to make my exit with a FUNNY vote. To those responsible for the prison break of laughter and the metaphorical carafe, full of my soul's tears, that both came from my involvement in this contest.
Now to watch the surprisingly large population of FOD account-holding, Southern Baptists tear my last caption to shreds. Later.