there was a young college student who had graduated from college with a B.F.A. in Medical Illustration. She tried and tried to make art work into a career but after living homeless a week, living in a place where she got robbed at least once a year and sending out well over 300 portfolios while in a economic depression she got overwhelmed by her student loans. She just was not able to get sucessful fast enough. So she declared bankruptcy and paid her obligations.

Eventually she went back to college and got an M.S in Computer Science. She now finds herself sucessful and prosperous but she still loves creative expression. One day a friend of hers named Pyg said, "Hey! listen to this!" It was an awesome dancable beat where a man was talking about being eaten by grues rather than beating up a woman. Who is this she said with perplexity. "It is [rapper name redacted]", said Pyg smugly.

As the woman listened and learned about [rapper name redacted] she was amazed to see someone who was so talented and risking so much to do what he loved. So the woman gave [rapper name redacted] enough money to probably make him feel a bit weird.

She wants the best for [rapper name redacted] and nothing but the best. The money was without strings and he may feel free to spend it on something cool or on hookers and blow.

I thought about this a while before sharing this story. Perhaps the gift won't feel so weird after I tell the tale. So there it is, the tale of the Furby.

Some of the artists I want to support don't have enough mechanisms in place for me to support them to the extent I would like. For those artists, I resort to giving moneys.

On a not totally unrelated note, is owning ten [rapper name redacted] t-shirts too many? It only took about a year of complaining for Front to make shirts available for fat dudes. :) Jesse, being larger than average himself, always had them available. For Wordburglar, I just had a shirt made myself.