Sunday, September 17, 2006

Tittie Love

Picture this:

Cute blonde, her face redder than any face should be.

Heel, toe, heel, toe, her feet pound the pavement in an almost-rhythm.

There are 2 things keeping her from dying: water and WHAM.

This is what she calls "running" though few would recognize it as such.


There are two reasons in this world why such a girl would be running, and since there is no big hairy monster chasing her with, she must be Running For The Cure.



That's right. Impossible as it may seem, I will be running in support of the Breast Cancer Foundation, and I would really appreciate your support. We all love boobs, and the ladies attached to them. I love them so much that I'm willing to completely humiliate myself in public by "running like a girl" with a paper number pinned to my chest, so I'm thinking the least you could do is donate a few dollars.

You with me?

Because honestly, it really would mean a lot to me. And it would mean more than a lot to 22 000 Canadian women about to be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.

To go the extra mile, I offer you this:


No matter which way you've chosen, please send me an accompanying email to identify yourself because I do plan on expressing inappropriate amounts of thankfulness for every dollar raised.



Now, the donating part is easy (I'm sponsoring Jason). The running part scares me. I mean, you remember how sucky I am at running, right? So it would be a big help if you'd leave some sort of encouraging message like "it probably only feels like you're dying" and "blisters look cute on you".

And I promise you that if nothing else, there will be a very entertaining post about my attempt at running on October 1st, if I live to write about it.

Thank you in advance.



3 comments:

deeleea said...

Bloody Brilliant... and I [secretly] Love the colour too!!!

As the grandaughter of a victim and and niece of both a survior and a victim I'm sponsoring you babe... will email details...

Lorna said...

I'm in---if you were running it here, you'd run right past my door. I'd be the one throwing chocolate cookies and crying.

Better Safe Than Sorry said...

i'm in, i'll be visiting the bank later this week.