Charity

Charity begins at home.  Thats why I'm often found busking outside my bedroom door and I absolutely wont move or stop singing until wife throws a coin in my hat. Seriously though, I've been thinking about donating something to some cause or other.  Theres been loads of it on TV recently because of this sports relief business. But, and theres always a but with me, there are some things that even I the compassion King will not donate to. For instance:

This is Beryl, shes been so traumatised by being left in a field all on her own that she needed rescuing and now we want you to pay for it.  Please do all you can to help desperate donkeys by donating to Donkey Sanctuary today. 

Hmmm who gets my fiver? Beryl the donkey or a starving african child. Sorry Beryl.

Some things do move me though so I decided to do my bit to raise some money for charity.  Now I'm far too busy/lazy to do anything like a sponsored run or walk so I chose to get all my old clothes and deposit them in the nearest charity shop. Which one though? I ruled out Help the Aged straight away. Some old bint on the bus wouldnt give me a seat even though I had a heavy bag filled with clothes that could have bought her a few extra hours of winter fuel. No, the aged will get nothing from me this week. I settled for Cancer.

A nice woman greeted me at the cancer shop and was extremely grateful for my donation. I left with a warm glow inside. I was starting to like this charity thing, it made me feel all nice and as I walked to the bus stop I spotted my next good deed. Big Issue man! A chance not to be missed! I strode purposely over, confident in my new giving mood. Whipped out my wallet and fingered through my notes which nice Big Issue man promptly stole from me and ran off after hitting me with 20 copies of his magazine. The swine!

I'm done with Charity now.