The polls are closed

The polls are closed but something is rotten in the state of Denmark. For awhile "Nothing is Irrelevant" and "I would not be called a traitor" were tied in the lead with two votes before finishing with three and zero. Um, I don't think thats supposed to work like that. Also the "Thai village" on bounced back and forth between one and zero as well. A few other wierdnesses occurred also and I don't really trust the polling gadget on the blog. So I am doing a quick recount and I would like it if you would leave your votes as comments on this post. The options are:

One morning you wake up and you find yourself in a village in the remote parts of thailand, with nothing but the clothes on your back.

God only steps on houses when he really needs to.

It was just like every other bland typical day. The dull and drab motions that seemed ever-so robotic, pulled me through my work day even though my feet were aching. I was relieved when I was able to go home to get some sleep. It was only when I pulled off my socks that I realized my feet were both covered in green scales. "Oh great," I thought, "here we go again."

I wouldn't be labeled a traitor if my plan to destroy the weapon had not failed, but I can not let my true identity be known.

As I opened the lid of the trunk, the words on the lid stared back at me. "Nothing is irrelevant. Everything is intentional." With those words in my eyes, I began exploring the contents of the trunk.

Traitor. Traitor. TRAITOR! Flashed through my mined. "I'm not a traitor!" I thought. "Yes you are," a small voice wisperd in my ear. "Don't listion to it, don't listion to it!" I thought wildly but the voice kept wispering... "Yes you are, yes you are. Yes you are!"

Thanks and sorry, 

Cory.