Pay up

Today is one of those days, where this blog is breaking its own record for number of views, up from 2 to 3, and even the good people at Zappos have taken notice and offered some sort of shoe thing for me posting shit about them, or something. Getting later in the day and my brain has predictably turned to mush, warm tasty mush.

Anyway, taking advice from Donald Trump is often dangerous and insane, but this morning in the shower The Donald turned to me and said, seriously, I can not even continue with that thought.

Anyway, people always (twice) have asked if there was some way they could help to pay for the brilliance of this blog. Jesus, that is all a lie. I have replied to emails begging people to pay, there, much better.

Anyway, the good shmucks at PayPal have once again begged me (true this time) to post one of their sickening little buttons so you, yes, you, can click it and send cash to keep this blog and none others like it, alive and well funded.

See, really, when you think about it, you get a shit load of content out this mess. Sometimes funny, mostly scary and often times badly spelled. But you come back, you smile, some of you comment and a few of you send emails detailing your relationships, you investments and graphically, your sex lives.

Now, like NPR before me, it is time to help out. Fund driving the blog.

My head aches, enough. Here, click the button and donate. Or don't. God knows you will bitch and complain in the comments.