I get a lot of mail. Either it's the fact that i'm a registered Democrat, or the fact that the bills at my place are all in my name. Maybe the magazines i subscribe to sold my info. i don't know. But nothing i get in the mail is more frustrating than the infrequent communication i receive from my sponsored child, Elmer, a small boy in Honduras.
About 3 years ago, on MLK day, i was walking down Broadway and got stopped by some enthusiastic NYU student, armed with a clipboard and a decent pitch. She told me that often young boys are the last to be sponsored, and wouldn't i like to help out someone less fortunate than myself? Sure, i said, taking a look at a picture of Elmer, who i swear was no older than 8 years old. Tell me why the last correspondence i received, persuading me to drop an extra 30 bucks on an Easter gift, i look at the little player's stats, and my man is friggin 15 years old!!!! i mean, shit, i'm sure he could use the money, but this MAN has a starter 'stache. i feel like such a chump. Dear friends, don't get swindled like your boy P. The kid needs to get a damn job. Screw you, "Children International". Change your name!