Little Miss Attila insists I'm not blegging stylishly enough. So here's the thing: That lady can drink her weight in gin, and because she's been linking me routinely since the days when I was a micro-blogger with Site Meter envy, I'm probably on the hook for half her CPAC bar tab by now. But I've also got a loving wife and six sweet children depending on me, creditors hounding me for car payments and Internet bills, and only the meager earnings of a freelance journalist standing between me and bankruptcy.
Because the Democrats carefully wrote the "stimulus" bill to ensure that I didn't get one red cent out of it, I'm on my own here. That means I'm counting on you -- The American People -- to help me meet this looming crisis. Trust me, if you've ever had the misfortune to meet Little Miss Attila when she's sober, you don't ever want to see that again. Won't you please hit the tip jar? It's for the children!
UPDATE: Don't be deceived by Little Miss Attila's charade -- no matter how much money you give her, when she gets thirsty, I'll be on the hook for her gin. (And she's always thirsty.)
So give her money for her plane ticket, give her pearls and diamonds and rubies if you want, but for the love of all that is holy, help me be ready when the L.A. Gin Monster hits the Omni Shoreham bar like Godzilla hit Tokyo.
UPDATE II: Welcome Five Feet of Fury readers. Your Canadian hostess has mistakenly described this as a fund to get me drunk during CPAC. In fact, I'll be sober as a judge, as always. The purpose of the Emergency Martini Fund is to prevent Little Miss Attila from getting sober, which is at least theoretically possible. And VodkaPundit's going to be at CPAC for the first time ever, so this year's Cirrosis Derby is going to be a closely-watched competition this year.
Give now: Vermouth is a terrible thing to waste.
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