Iditarod? Chiditarod? More like Gnomeditarod!

Some say the last great race on earth is the Iditarod. Dog sleds in Alaska? Meh. Doesn’t that happen like every day up in that godforsaken wilderness state? I mean what else do Eskimos have to do with their day. I wonder if they’re still living in igloos. This sounds like a project in which to consult my Google Machine. And okay fine I take back my derogatory comment about Alaska because now I actually want to go there for the sake of knocking on the door of an igloo and being welcomed in by a beautiful Eskimo lady for a romantic dinner of grilled mammoth and parmesan-crusted polar bear.









Some say that the greatest drunken hipster challenge in the Midwest is the Chiditarod. I mean, really? A bunch of wasted semi-adults somehow obtaining shopping carts, decorating them with ridiculous themes, and running through the streets of Chicago checking in from bar to bar with silly little challenges? What makes this so great. I peered from my backyard at this madness happening on the streets yesterday and spotted this wacky crew, who obviously has serious mental and emotional problems. Isn’t there a legal age limit for drinking booze, anyway?









I say the Alaskan dogs and the drunken humans have a thing or two to learn from us gnomes. Yesterday, Samuel, Joshua, Frederico, and i competed and won first place in the Gnomeditarod. The weather conditions were spectacular, considering the race took place in a kitchen. The competition was friendly, considering there was none. And the access to liquid motivation was simplified, considering our master’s liquor stash is not exactly hard to find.










Halfway through the race, we realized that a manatee sabotaged our cart and snuck on board. We always thought manatees were stupid, but I guess they’re not as stupid as we thought. He certainly added some extra weight, but our athleticism prevalied and we won in spite of his evil intentions.

Victorious and triumphant,



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About Jerry

I am the king of all of the gnomes. You can bow down to me now. No, seriously I mean it. BOW!

I earned the title of Gnome King because I was the very first gnome that our glorious Master/Goddess picked up one hazy day at dollar store in DeKalb, Illinois. I carry a hoe because I’m just THAT pimp. As you can see, I love to smoke various substances and get tangled up in things.

I have everything to say about everything and I’m sure that I have made your life worth living again. You’re welcome.


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