Exercises in futility

I have a new mission: I want to win a guitar.

I found a site called GuitarSweepstakes.com, which basically scours the 'Net for any guitar contests and posts them. So over the past few days I've been entering pretty much every contest there is with the hopes of getting that elusive free guitar.

Well, almost every contest.

I didn't enter a contest to win a Daisy Rock guitar, and it's not the guitar that's the problem. Despite being "girl guitars," Daisy Rock actually makes some nifty guitars. They're pretty androgynous, too, as long as you stick to the standard colors and not get something like Rainbow Sparkle with pink and white zebra humbuckers (I'm not kidding). In fact, the guitar being given away is a pretty fair copy of a Gibson dual-cutaway Melody Maker, complete with a Duncan Designed P-90. No, the reason I didn't enter that contest is that it's being put on by a magazine that caters to pre-teen and teenage girls, and the winner will be featured in the magazine. A 37-year-old man with no children is probably not the kind of image the magazine wants to promote itself. In fact, I'm sure that if I won, after I picked up my new guitar there would be a few nice men from the local police department waiting to ask me questions about my lifestyle and confiscate my hard drives.

I also refused to enter the giveaway sponsored by Alvin & the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel as it's one of the most annoying things ever devised by man.

Maybe someday I'll be the proud owner of an Epiphone Les Paul signed by Slash, or a Jackson V signed by Bullet for my Valentine (who I've never heard of), or an ESP 7-String signed by Deftones, or even an M&M's guitar.

Wish me luck!