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Help a girl out, huh?




Well folks.
It's come to this.
I wasn't sure what to call it.
Panhandling?
No I'm not begging.
Scott says it's more like busking, you know, providing a little entertainment on a wintry afternoon for you folks.
Instead of taking my guitar to the Sparks Street Mall -- which would be ridiculous because I can't sing or play guitar, heck, I don't even have a guitar -- I'm busking right here in my kitchen.
Using Bell Fibe Internet and the ten falanges attached to my wrists.
Think of me as a virtual busker.
My greatest hits, you can enjoy them over and over again. They are to the right of this blog along with something called a Donate button.


That's what you click if you want to support my silly hobby.
Along the way, I might have a few things to sell as well.
Scott has this cool flag from the time Nunavut first became a territory. As with all things up that way somebody probably had a bit of hooch and made a bunch of flags with a mistake in them. So Scott has one of the bogus flags that has never adorned a flagpole.
We also have a Canadian Airborne shirt for an elite group that no longer exists.
I have a firefighter's uniform shirt from Toronto. Don't ask.
And I have my Team Chretien polar fleece which was given to war room staffers in the 2000 election. Not many of them around. If you're a Liberal after today, you might want my Chretien polar fleece to sleep in and dream of the good old days before Stephane Dion and Bob Rae.
What else could I sell?
I am a writer, but unlike my friends, I don't write books.
I simply don't have the attention span. Besides, every time I re-read any sort of fiction I've written, I immediately delete it. Especially the sex scenes.
Woof!
The only people who would get horny reading my sex scenes are geriatric patients.
Or twelve year olds who find the sight of a gas pump appealing.
We have a 14-year-old Subaru that still works and three dogs.
I could sell them.
But we need transportation and love. So selling them is out.
Really, it's just me. A blogger standing before a reader asking him/her to support this blog.
Like Julia Roberts in Notting Hill.
God, I loved that movie.
I digress.
I'm asking you to throw me couple bucks here and there.
Don't worry. I don't see blog busking as a living.
I just need to pay for some incidentals.
Like dog food. The Hydro bill. The occasional cup of cappucino.
In my dreams, I'd love a real computer.
Not this piece of shit I'm forced to write on.
Maybe you could help pay the tax on it.
Think of a donation as like buying me a beer at the Press Club.
Maybe a club sandwich.
Anyhoo, if you like this blog and want to keep reading it, reach deep.
I'm sure there's a loonie or two in the lining of your own Team Chretien polar fleece.
I accept all major credit cards. Paypal, too.
Hey, what can I say, I'm an innovator
Anything is appreciated.
Really....
Thanks for your patronage.
Come again.
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