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What are the haps my friends


February 6th, 2009: Guys there's this organization called Kiva, which allows you to make microloans (we're talking like $5 loans here) to entrepreneurs in developing nations, trying to make things better. These people put together pitches for what they need the money for ("I want to buy inventory to set up a store", "I want to buy parts so I can begin an auto-repair business") - projects that help them and their community. It's really great! You can lend a little money that goes a long way for these people. You can read more about the project here.

Anyway the lovely and talented Zach "Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal" Weiner and I started a team for webcomics creators and readers! You can sign up here and loan a few bucks to people who could use it, and then we can kick the asses of all the other teams. So far we've loaned $925 to a bunch of useful causes! GO WEBCOMICS

IN OTHER NEWS

Okay, so I guess Andrew has, like, a butler? Who he pays to stuff food into my car's exhaust pipe? And that's fine, that's cool. We all need jobs. But when I drive home and my car stalls out a few minutes in and it's because the tail pipe is blocked with chocolate-chip cookie dough, it's not that awesome. Andrew's house is at the end of a deserted lane surrounded by a bunch of fields, and now I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere.

So I walk back to Andrew's place - takes about 20 minutes. I ring the doorbell. No answer. I knock on the door. All the lights are on; I know he's home. I go round back and I stand in the dark of his back yard and I can see him there in his living room. His soggy slacks are spread out on the couch. His underpants are tasteful. He's rapping again. It sounds like - yes, it's Rapper's Delight. Andrew's really belting it: "Have you ever went over a friend's house to eat / And the food just aint no good? / I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed / and the chicken tastes like wood."

I've never realized how much of that song is about food.

One year ago today: it's a clothing store but he hates all the clothes. we've all been there, amiright?

– Ryan

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