Dearest Gloria:  We’re in!  Frankly, I thought it was going to be much more difficult than it was, but Shulamith was right – all we had to do was ask for a heating pad and a Midol and the guys were out of the Wordsmoker HQ central office faster than you can say Écriture féminine.  Strawberry is so relieved to be in real clothes again – she sends her thanks for the Clark’s Wallabees and wonders if the denim jumper comes in red?

It may have been a Monday or a Tuesday when I walked into briefing, looked out over the collection of clean, shiny faces and began shouting profanities at them about every small thing that came to mind. A call we were on together, a wrinkle in their uniform, their report writing, etc. When I could think of nothing else, I noticed several open mouths and more than a few tearful eyes. I realized that I had never raised my voice to them before.

“I’ve got to go,” is all that I could think to say.

Secretly, I was glad when Mr. Shoes decided to take a short vacation with his saucy sidekick because I was missing headquarters something fierce.  Some of you may remember that I used to be the Wordsmoker intern back in the day when a well-dusted chiffarobe was de rigueur and the ability to make a nice cup of tea with neat sandwiches was an important skill set.  I was ready to resume my duties having arrived at Wordsmoker Headquarters at the urgent request of Messers Rene Sance and Chillbear Latrigue.

According to the research that I completed within five minutes of coming up with the title, no one knows who Saint Valentine is. I’m not making this up. Wikipedia may be, but I’m not. Apparently he was either a priest, a bishop or a martyr who died some time in the 3rd Century. Then a couple of centuries later, a pope, of whom no one has ever heard, with only 365 days in a year and billions of saints, decides to commemorate this one particular saint by having an annual feast.

In January of 2010, a mismatched group of bloggers gathered in a random bar in the West Village. As will happen when heroic men and women assemble for the free exchange of ideas, copious amounts of alcohol were consumed. I don’t know if I was the first Smoker to venture off to the bathroom that night, but having the bladder of a hamster, there’s a good chance that it was me.

I wanted to use this week’s Smokies to talk about the meetup at Art Bar, but the lawyers in the room forced us to sign non-disparagement and non-disclosure agreements.  There may have been a pre-nup in there as well, but it was dark and there were a lot of big words.  Let me just say that it was terrific meeting all of you, and I can’t wait for the next one!  I did plan to bestow all of this week’s awards to those in attendance, but most hadn’t written anything this week, which would have made it more difficult to justify.  Without further ado, here are your Smokies:

Meanwhile, back at the Wordsmoker laboratory (again)…

VWS: “Well, how does this happen?”

CL: “I don’t know. I don’t have a great vocabulary I guess.”

VWS: “It’s a fucking credenza. How do you mix up ‘credenza’ with ‘vestibule’?”

CL: “It won’t happen again. Besides, Sance fixed it.”

VWS: “It’s not his bloody job to fix your fuck ups. Never mind. What else do you have?”

Meanwhile, back at the Wordsmoker laboratory…

VWS: “What’s going on?”

CL: “Why, Virus, you startled me. I hadn’t expected to see you so soon after the FNFF. There’s some fresh coffee over on the table.”

VWS: “Thanks, I think I’ll have a cup. How are the Smokies coming along?”

I want to wish all of my fellow Wordsmokers a very healthy, happy, and prosperous 2010! I’d also like to thank the redoubtable ChillbearLatrigue for covering the Smokies duty for me while I was on a sensitive assignment to secure passage of health care reform legislation. Our schedule will likely be altered again later this month while Chillbear is here conducting background checks on partying with the New York Wordsmoker contingent.

On Christmas Day, a 23-year-old Nigerian national by the name of Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab boarded Northwest Airlines Flight 253 in Amsterdam and attempted to explode an incendiary device strapped to his leg over Michigan. Two days later, the Wordsmoker site was effectively shutdown by saboteurs. In the case of the Northwest flight, it took the red faced Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula three days to release this statement:

While I don’t keep a running religion inventory in my head, I think that most Wordsmokers fall into the categories of Jewish, Christian or Atheist. Regardless of which God you do or don’t claim, this is the time of year for giving. The retailers have mandated it. If you don’t participate, then you’re just some selfish prick who is hurting our economy.

I’ve noticed that you kids seem to enjoy a good test of knowledge. Lawyer Gay obliged us with a nice little matching exercise to whet our student appetites this week, even though he claims that this wasn’t his intention. With this in mind, I thought that it would be fun to just list the winning comments, and then provide you guys a multiple choice selection of commenters to choose from. You could try to guess which person made the award winning comment and score your answers against a key that I would publish later in the week. Then I realized what an absolute ridiculous and labor-intensive concept that is. Consequently, I decided to submit the Smokies in the same manner as usual. Because of the test/exam/quiz theme, I have departed from the usual chronological order to start with a Smokie that is theme related:

A few notable things happened in the so-called “real world” this week.  President Obama committed more troops for Afghanistan and announced a timetable for withdrawal from Iraq.  A clemency decision Mike Huckabee made nine years ago came back to bite him, and may well scotch his White House aspirations.  Scientists began dissecting the brain of one of the most famous memory-loss patients in history, Henry Molaison – or “HM” as he was known during his lifetime.  And the newly-Democratic New York State Senate disgraced itself on the gay marriage issue, as they do on so many issues.

But you’re not here for any of that, so let’s cut to the chase and announce the winners of this week’s exalted Wordsmoker awards.  First, the Smokies:

I was resigned to write the predicable “After Thanksgiving” themed Smokies, when I received an invitation that I knew would provide me with a new theme and inevitably delay my completion of the Smokies. The invite was to an “art scavenger hunt.” I had never heard of such a thing before, but if you have, please bear with me while I summarize.

Unlike my esteemed colleague ChillBearLatrigue, I spend very little time agonizing over a theme for my Smokies posts.  It’s not that I don’t expend an inordinate amount of effort picking and choosing amongst all the penetrating wit and ribald hilarity on offer every week here at Wordsmoker.  But a growing body of research in cognitive science suggests that most of you have already skipped ahead to find out whether your comments and articles  – and those of fellow Wordsmokers with whom you are presently engaged in co-dependent relationships – have won anything.  We enable this practice by bolding the names of the winners, so who are we to complain?  Rather than continue the charade that you care about anything I might have to say at this point concerning world peace or my sex life, please allow me to present the following Smokie awards: