Undeterred I decided I would still give but shield my identity (to avoid embarrassment in ultraL circles) by giving cash to my cousin Carlos who would, reimbursement in hand, use his own credit card.
Sadly for the cash strapped Mr. Kerry, Carlos is a fun loving pirate and promptly hopped on a red colored private plane to Vegas where he lost it all in seconds. During the shoe examination phase of his airport time, he called me to tearfully confess his inter familial crime. Happily, as I’m big of heart and small of anger, all was forgiven and family equilibrium – always on the verge of destruction – was maintained.
Needless to say, these two setbacks were disheartening and I was tempted to chuck it all in favor of a new DVD I’ve been eying – a documentary on Winston Churchill’s little known collection of 19th century ladies hairbrushes. But I was determined to give it another try. After all, Genghis Khan didn’t pause before pillaging and neither should I (even though I wasn’t trying to pillage and it’s not exactly the right metaphor and where was I?).
I hatched a simple plan: I would tie a bundle of money to my dog’s back, give him mapquest directions to the nearest Dem rallying center (perhaps that pleasant one next to the Starbucks) and instruct her to deliver it without delay. Collies, scientists say, are the most brilliant of dogs so I knew I’d placed this task in capable jaws.
Weeks later, my dog, smelling of Vodka and wearing outrageously expensive Italian shoes, arrived home without a receipt for my donation and bearing a summons from Homeland Sec for ‘suspiciously un-canine like actions’.
I took this as a sign from Zeus, Ra, Shazaam, Cthulhu and other revered figures that the Dems simply didn’t need my money.
Which is why my name doesn’t appear on that illustrious website.
.d.