Hola! That's Spanish for "Hello". You're welcome. I've been fortunate enough to have had 17,824 stories published in print and online. Unfortunately, many of them are no longer available because the sites they were on have died. So from time to time I will republish these lost pieces, so as to give them a new life on the informational super highway. Today's online story revival is the first humor piece I ever had published online. It was originally published in the gone, but not forgotten humor site Haypenny way back in 2002.

My Personal Fundraising Pledge Drive

Well, friends, it’s that time of year again: my personal fundraising pledge drive. All year long I’ve worked hard to be the best me I can be. And as most of you know, I can’t be my best me without the support of the many friends, family members, and acquaintances I share my life with. This means you. I’m standing by my phone waiting to take your pledges of $25, $50, or $100 dollars.

Although we’d like to think otherwise, I can’t live my life to the utmost potential without your monetary support. Remember that fancy computer I bought myself last April? Well, that couldn’t have been made possible without the financial contributions of my many friends, family members, and acquaintances—you. So please call now. I won’t let the answering machine run. I’ll pick up the phone and take your generous donation of $25, $50, or $250 in person. Phone line is open.

You know some people take me for granted. They simply appreciate me for who I am, yet don’t realize that I can only function at this high-level through the cash-money aid I receive from others just like them. To be frank, they're taking advantage of me. They laugh at my jokes, they’re enthralled by my intellect, and they admire my keen-tempered humanity. Yet when personal pledge drive time comes around they’re no-shows. Come on, people. You’re riddled with guilt, you know it. Okay, I jest, but only partially. I mean, how would you feel if day in and day out you strove to make the people and world around you a happier, more fun place, without receiving any economic compensation in return? Not sure? Well, I’ll tell you—you’d feel like a piece of dogshit.

But I digress, this is really a celebration—a celebration of me. And what do celebrations call for? Gifts. That’s right, with your pledge of $100 you’ll receive a mug—not just any mug, but one of my mugs. Unchipped. White. No, not the cool mug with the state flags on it, just a white mug with my initials scrawled on it by a grease pencil, but heck—it works perfectly fine. And during this pledge break if you pledge an amount of $250 dollars or more you will not only receive one of my very own mugs, but I also guarantee to greet you with a hug at every friend/family event. That’s right, friends, family members, and acquaintances: mugs and hugs. This is a special offer, folks. Those in the know are aware of my aversion to physical contact. Don’t pass on this chance to have me touch and grasp you.

My goal is to have at least $300 by the end of this pledge break. (I have my eye on an XBOX and Toys ‘R Us closes in an hour and a half.) So please, call now. I won’t screen the call. I’m sitting on the lazy-boy by my phone waiting for you to call in your pledge of $25, $100, or $500. Join others who’ve pledged, like my father ( there’s still time to upgrade to the mug, Pop), my ex-girlfriend (I promise to stop leering at you from your lawn), and the guy working at Starbucks who gave me too much change back (what you don’t know, won’t hurt you). No collect calls, please.

And if you pledge within the next five minutes my grandmother will match your pledge. That’s right, she’ll match any pledge of $25, $500, or $1700. Just be sure that after you pledge you call her and tell her that you’re me and that you forgot my birthday. Oh, and that she should leave the check blank. Hurry—it’s almost her nap time.

My personal fundraising pledge drive time is always pretty stressful. But folks I’m sitting here in my studio apartment, looking at many of the items I’ve been able to get thanks to your contributions, like the 42-inch High Definition TV and the deluxe aquarium. Items like these were made possible by people like you: the friends, the family members, and the acquaintances. It makes all this hard work I do during personal pledge drive time worthwhile. Without your support I would’ve had to settle for a transistor radio and a hamster in a milk carton. But next year is another year friends. How will I provide food for the fourteen exotic fish? How will I get a Tivo? You know the answer my friends: call now and pledge. Fish could die if you don’t.

As always, please refrain from offering self-help guidance when pledging. I’m happy, Mother; this is how I live my life. I also have proven many times in the past that I don’t respond well to tough love. Don’t push it. However, with a generous pledge of $2400, I’ll pretend to listen to and take heed to any clinical advice you suggest. Plus you get the mug and the hugs. How can you pass up that offer, friends?

Call now! I’m lying down on my pullout couch by the phone watching “The Golden Girls” and eating from a family-size bag of Kettle Chips, but I’ll answer for you. Heck I won’t even check the caller-ID—that’s how much your contribution means to me. Phone line is open!