Sponsor a Tory

I recently received an e-mail, perpetrating to be from a Leeds University student, imploring me to give to the Leeds alumni fund. It ran thus.


Dear graduate,


I was once a poor orphan on the desolate North Yorkshire moors. After my father died carrying radioactive water for ten miles so that we could boil our turnips, I was taken in by a pack of wolves. I was raised as if one of their own cubs. During this time, I made friends with a panther and a bear, who helped to teach me human things. I eventually returned to civilization and was taken to the local almshouse. It was horrible. When I finally escaped, I joined a gang of cockney pickpockets working for a kindly old man, and together we scraped by. But I longed to go to university. But how could a desolate young urchin like me ever hope to go to university? So I worked hard, got good grades, applied, and the Leeds University alumni fund gave me a thousand pounds to help me out.


If you could find it in your heart to give just thirty pounds to the Leeds alumni fund, we can work together to make sure disadvantaged people like me can get to University, where I can follow my dreams of becoming an astronaut. Don't let another minute pass. Every second, a child fails to get into University. If everyone I email gives just thirty pounds, we can put another 250 students through university.


Please, help us.


Love, 
Unlikely and probably fictional person.

Thirty pounds will help put someone through university. Or convince Judas to betray the Messiah. Your call.

Now, I'm not going to give any money to the Leeds alumni fund, and at risk of sounding like a bitter old man, here are my reasons why.

1) I have no money.

Today I ate pasta with chili sauce and tinned beef. Do you know how horrific that is? The experience wasn't just harrowing on my taste buds, it was dehumanizing. The ring pull snapped and I had to bash the tin of corned beef in with a heavy blunt object, before ripping it apart with a pair of pliers whilst attempting to lick the meat out of a jagged hole like a raccoon going through someone's trash. Dwell on that, if you will.

Like a raccoon.

2) It isn't my fault.

I did not, once, ever condone people having to pay to go to University. I don't know what this money is supposed to go towards? You get a grant, a loan, a whatever, anyway. So basically, lulwhut? Why do you even need it? And assuming you do, why  the hell should I give it to you? You're only going to turn into a pretentious Tory imbecile anyway, like most of the others. I'm not paying for your Pimms, urchin.

3) Get a job.

Ok, that sounds a bit too conservative for me. But seriously, I had a job. I had a job all the way through university. It sucked, people actually threatened to kill me. With real knives. Don't rely on handouts. Emancipate yourself through wage slavery. Or something.

4) I never got it.

No, you're damn right. Neither me, or anyone I knew, got that. So we didn't go splurge on new laptops, data sticks or whatever kids are 'supposed' to buy with a grand. Hell, I never had a laptop all the way through university. I'm really trying to sympathize, but it's kind of hard. Did I mention I had corned beef chili-pasta for my abomination of a tea?  I'm still hungry now, and though I can't help but feel ashamed at what I've done.



Alright, so maybe I'm being a bit tight fisted, but you know what, I don't care. Because Leeds University could fund 250 more places if I gave them money, but it could also probably choose to not charge nine-grand for an education there anyway, which in a round about way would let more people go to university.

Besides, like a mentioned before, most of the students at Leeds University were horrendous people. I'm not even joking. They were the kind of people that frightened old lady would cross the street TO PUNCH IN THE FACE. Everything about them, from ideology to attitude, from dress sense to accent, made me begin to develop a twitch. It became impossible for me to leave the house. I had to curl into a gibbering ball to block out their short, barking, snobby laughs, or their stupid smirks.

The thing that bugs me the most? Their infernal, thrice cursed flipflops. Even the sound of their footsteps caused headaches and nausea. On the cheap plastic tiles of a supermarket floor it reminded me of the sharp crack of a rainbow trout being repeatedly hammered off the kitchen worktop.

So no, I won't be giving any money. There are some ideological considerations, but it is mainly because I refuse to pay for something that isn't my fault, or sponsor someone to turn into dickhead. There's enough business managers and lazy IT staff ruining the world without  encouraging anyone else to be one. Frankly, I find the idea insulting. Now excuse me while I go rummaging through the bins for a new pair of shoes.