So you have an important cause you want to raise money for, or at least it's important to you. But people are slow to part with their hard-earned cash. How do you go about the careful process of trying to get them to take dough out of their pocket and stuff it into yours?
Well it turns out it's difficult, especially if you're a prick.
Every fundraiser needs a hook. You can't just say you want to raise money for syphilis research and offer people the chance to touch your syphilitic wang for $5. You'll barely make $100 that way. You need something that will make people say, "Fuck yeah I want to do that, and it's for a good cause!"
And what better way to raise money for a Republican Superintendent of Education than by shooting doves, the symbol of peace? Well, there is one better way; do it on September 11.
It's possible the entire event was some manner of incredibly Swiftian satire, but the Republican party was never really known for being quite so intentionally hilarious (even though this was just a few months after Dick Cheney shot some poor bastard on his own hunting trip). Maybe it's the fact that Karen Floyd was a candidate in South Carolina and things just work a little differently down there.
The blue areas represent crazy.
It's probably saddest for the doves, of course, who have no idea that they've been made a symbol of peace at all, and even if they did, would have real difficulty grasping why, as a symbol of peace, they need to be shot at to raise money for hawkish politicians wanting to stick it to the anti-war movement. We don't expect you to understand the intricacies of American politics, little dove.
What's hard about giving money to a good cause is you know there are so many others that deserve it. You contribute to microloans to help Third World farmers, but maybe you should have given to cancer research instead. You contributed to the March of Dimes but maybe you should have given money to women who want bigger boobs.
Yes, the sad truth is that we live in a world in which some women can't even afford to have silicone shoved into their tits. Fortunately, myfreeimplants.com is leading the charge against this horrible scourge of modernity by saying "No" to natural breasts and yes to helping disadvantaged ladies get the funding they need to become the proud owners of bulbous sweater kittens.
For the same price of thousands of cups of coffee, you too can sponsor boobs.
Using the power of the Internet, the website joins these underprivileged women with semi-anonymous benefactors whose only desire is to see these ladies benefit from improved self-esteem and confidence and at no time does anyone even ponder wanking to images of big, supple boobies. That would be crass. Sure, some ladies choose to reward donors with nudie pics, but you don't have to. Good luck getting your money, prude.
Ladies sign up for the site just as men do and, once someone has donated money to her cause, they gain access to her pictures and contact information, making it a fair trade sort of deal, a few bucks towards boobs in exchange for stalking rights to be shared amongst a few dozen or hundred other guys.
Naturally a site so dedicated to helping improve self image goes above and beyond by offering women and men whatever procedure they require to help better themselves, except for none of that is true. The site only serves women and the only procedure they'll help anyone get is breast augmentation. Because they care.
Nothing is more adorable than dressing up your child in a humiliating costume that may give them some sort of complex later in life, except for doing the same thing to your dog. But no one is raising funds with dogs in hilarious costumes that we know of, so we'll stick to children. But we can't just dress them up like Yoda or Snarf or whatever it is the kids are into these days. No, we need to dress them up as the handicapped. For charity.
He's smiling because he's not actually blind.
Confused? So were the parents of students at an Australian Public School when they got a letter telling them their kids needed to dress up a little gimpy to raise money for a clinic in Bangladesh. The school was offering prizes for the best costume and encouraged kids to be creative in thinking up what disability they could represent.
It's fascinating to think that there is more than one adult in Australia who thinks there's a tasteful way to pretend to have a handicap. Will you twitch and bat your chest like the classic retard while eating gum off the floor? Or perhaps get ahold of some kind of degenerative muscle disorder and wheel your way to class?
No, this is like blackface; it doesn't matter how good your intentions are, if next Halloween you go as "Guy who has Cerebral Palsy," you're going to get chased down the street. Now picture an entire school full of children who've been given a blank check to do that and... actually, we would pay money to watch that whole thing unfold.
Probably the first rule of any fundraising campaign is to be sure that the people you're soliciting money from don't already hate you. It's way easier to raise money for something like spaying and neutering dogs if you're the local humane society as opposed to, say, a group of skinheads.
Still, some folks try to be a little crafty with who they are and what they're doing when it comes to raising money. You may be wondering just what sort of lowlife would omit important details like who was running a fundraiser. The answer, of course, is Scientologists.
Back in 2007, when Tom Cruise was busy saving the Earth from aliens, two second string Scientologists (Matt Lauer and Brooke Shields) were headlining a Narconon event in Hawaii. Lisa Marie Presley and John Travolta were to be guests of honor at a $2500 a ticket concert to raise cash for Scientology's anti-drug program.
Scientologists were expecting about 1,000 people to attend, but they'd neglected to mention the term "Scientology" anywhere in the advertising for the event. And while arguably you could say people should know they're behind Narconon and that shouldn't be an issue, when a local newspaper took the time to point out that it was, in fact, a Scientology event, just short of nobody bought a ticket.
Narconon in full swing.
That's right; when the community found out it was a Scientology anti-drug event, they rose up as one and said, "We'd rather have the crack, thank you."