Why Don’t You? #52



Why don’t you chose a charity to start supporting? You needn’t give an awful lot, but it’s nice to donate to an organization that does good. When I finally have the majority of my bills paid off, I’m going to start donating every month to a big cat charity. In the mean time, I use a service called Amazon Smile, which donates a percentage of each purchase to the charity of your choosing — the one I picked is dedicated to lions, of course! I love lions.


Why don’t you go to your local market or grocery store and pick up a root vegetable you’ve never messed with before? The things are hideous, I’ll admit, but they are also delicious. I’m passionate about beets. Like PASSIONATE. They are delicious, and I won’t stop saying it until everybody knows so. I’m making beet pasta tonight. It’ll be amazing.


Why don’t you pick up a copy of War & Peace and read it so that I’ll finally have somebody to bitch about with it? Oh, what drivel it is! I’ve long been told that Russian literature is beautiful and elegant and soul expanding, but I just find it irksome. How many times can we discuss war, or peasants, or fields? I have a few more Russian classics to get through, like Crime & Punishment. I speculate that the crime will be reading it and the punishment will be finishing it.


Why don’t you find out when the next election is and mark it on your calendar and then order an absentee ballot? I never go to the polls; I vote at my leisure. I was absolutely appalled at yesterday’s midterm election — everybody is complaining, but so few people bothered to get out and actually cast a ballot. The fools! I won’t go off on a political rant now, but since I’m going to DC in March I basically feel like a Washington insider so I will simply say this: VOTE.


Why don’t you forgo pants and start wearing comfortable robes each day like the men do in Egypt? When I was there this summer, I was so envious of their comfortable local attire and wanted to get a galabeya of my own, but I failed to acquire one. For shame! I tried to get one in the Khan el-Khalili, but I was too preoccupied keeping track of an Atlantean priestess and a reckless smokestack of a man. Anyway, I am so sick of pants and feeling like a blood sausage, reader, I need a robe!

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