Give Till I Hurt

In the aftermath of both the final Presidential debate and the Phillies clinching their first pennant since 1993…

I'd like to tell you a little bit about Sarah.

She's not like me or my kind. She represents normal everyday American values and you can bet she doesn't kowtow to the "liberal media elite-selected-select few-choice-Microsoft Thesaurus".

She's also a sports fan. Or hadn't you heard?

She set up the 2008 Postseason Baseball Playoff pool that I'm currently dominating! Quick aside: shout outs to the Phillies and Boston Red Sox (the two teams I picked); Chase Utley and Mark Teixeira (my hitters for the playoffs) and Derek Lowe and Jon Lester (my pitchers). Some of you contributed more than others, but all of you are getting me that much closer to my nest egg of eventual alimony payments. Thanks, guys!

Anyways, Sarah Bunting – like Trick Daddy before her – love [sic] the kids. She's part of an insanely awesome charitable effort that hopes to raise $100K towards innovative educational opportunities for the future Bootleg Guys and Girls out there.

Check it out and, if you can, give.

And, IF you give, I promise to make it worth your while.

I get a fair share of suggestions for content here at this lightly-read blog, so for anyone who makes a donation – regardless of the amount – I'll commit to getting off'a my Black ass and writing up anything you'd like to see.

Someone axed me to bring back the Friday Music News Bootleg to this blog "in some capacity". And, that's just enough of a qualifier for me to consider it!

About a week ago, a reader sent me a nice email on that "Black Actress" spoof of Survivor that me and Movie Joe Reid did a few years ago. We're down for a sequel!

Maybe you just want me to dish on all the behind-the-scenes drama at 411mania and Inside Pulse. Which of my peers did I hate and which ones did I really hate?

Or, perhaps you'd like to know which one of my friends (and regular TBG reader) once dropped $1,500 in the VIP room of a local strip club, then had his credit card stolen by said stripper. I'll even leave you a replica of the freaked-out voice mail he left for me – a delicious stew of hyperventilation, profanity and body glitter.

Give!