The Smithee Awards

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Smithee Awards Turns Eighteen, Stomachs

Well, another year has gone right down the tubes. On Friday June 26th, Smithee Awards XVIII: Full Groan lived up to its name and successfully kept a surprisingly large audience in horrified and disgusted fascination for over five hours. I say "surprisingly" not simply from amazement that anyone would subject themselves to this schlock, but also that we were up against a) a flagging economy which potentially reduced overall convention attendance, b) a completely new night, c) advertising materials that were wildly inaccurate as to place and time, and d) tiny extraterrestrial ninjas that threatened to vaporize us and the audience if we continued to publically reveal their secrets. Although, admittedly, the last may have spoken only to me. Unless it was just a couple of squirrels.

Check out the winners and wieners in Our Fabulous Ceremony Gallery!

Other “Highlights”:

Possessed Piñatas!
Exploding toilets!
A Japanese alien superhero in way-too-tights
Eunuchs with power-hungry Wangs!
A Billy Mays impersonation which may or may not have contributed to his untimely demise. So sorry for channeling and draining your soul, Billy! :(
Sean Connery loses his head!
Prize Giveaways! Snickers came up and claimed her prize. Zagnut and William Shatner, alas, did not.
A nudist camp protected by Stock Footage!
The Devil’s heart in a microwave!
"Imperial Ghost of Grandpa, Halt the Flow of Time!"
Evil came and went.
Dust was eaten, as was popcorn-on-the-cob, Mom, and Wil Wheaton.
Blood was drunk, as was glowing booze, Larry the Alien Virus Guy, and Wil Wheaton.

We thank all those who attended our little one-shot recurring nightmare that never ended…or did it? And we’d especially like to thank Origins® 2009 for its customary wonderful hospitality. And, as we all know, you can’t piss on hospitality.

Let's Play Follow-the-Smithee

Remember that horse's mouth I mentioned in the last article? It lies! Pete's not looking so honest, either. I've just been informed that the room for the Smithee Awards has been moved back to Ballroom 3. Everything else is as stated in red below: Friday, 7pm, Ballroom 3. Got it now?

It's all part of our attempt to bring you the purest, most high-quality audience with whom to enjoy the awards. Audience Concentrate, if you will. This confusion will shake off those who are less dedicated than you, more easily confused, or are really the walking dead in disguise. Because who wants his brain eaten by some stranger sitting next to him?

We'll get rid of it for you much more efficiently. We're your friends. And we're experts.

The Smithees are Moving!

No, I don't mean "emotionally touching," unless you wax sentimental over zombies eating brains or alien sponge-creatures draining Earth's oceans, or unless by "touching" you mean "scarring." And no--don't panic!--I don't mean we're not presenting Smithee Awards XVIII: Full Groan at Origins® '09. Because we are. No matter how much They seem to be trying to stop us.

It just might not be at the time and place you've been led to believe. Certain official materials have been circulated saying that we're on at 8pm, or we're in the Regency Ballroom, or that the Smithees can cause brain tumors. Don't believe it! The one, honest-to-Pete, you're-hearing-it-from-the-horse's-mouth Truth is the following:

Smithee Awards XVIII: Full Groan
Friday, June 26th
7:00pm - It's Done (usually around midnight)
~~Regency Ballroom~~Ballroom #3
Greater Columbus Convention Center
Columbus, OH

So, there you have it. Not Saturday, not 8pm~~, not Ballroom 3~~.

I'm not sure about the tumors part. More studies are under way. We've got a new batch of test subjects coming in any day now.

Steins and T-Shirts and Mugs -- Oh, My!

And tote-bags, too! At long last, we have a version of the long-awaited T-Shirt storefront! A selection of Smithee Awards merchandise is ready for your perusing and purchasing pleasure right here at CafePress. Choose from a variety of items--such as T's, sweats, mugs, tank-tops, jerseys, track suits, and more--in a variety of styles, all emblazoned with a new, snazzy, and stylized logo cooked up by our own Matthew Quirk. Now you, too, can wear the same shirts as the Smith-ka-teers (well, perhaps not the same ones, although some of us might let you) and join us as we yell, "I Stayed Up To Watch The End of THIS?"