I Don't Want Your Blood Money!

Over the weekend I received a $40 check -- my share of the profits from the ill-fated concert I participated in a few weeks back. (See http://oldwinyards.blogspot.com/2005/10/worst-concert-ever.html if you missed it.) Given how awful the experience was, I feel a bit weird about taking money from the group; I had originally planned on refusing it. However, I did earn that money after all -- I have the mental scars to prove it. Oh, and the program too. No, I did throw that away.

Now the only debate is how best to spend the filthy lucre. Paying for a single singing lesson might have a certain amount of poetic justice. Or I could get 3-4 used CDs from Amoeba. Or I could buy $40 worth of MacDonald's (MacDonalds'? MacDonalds's?) cheeseburgers. How would that exemplify poetic justice? It wouldn't. Not really. But it sure would be funny making MacDonald's employees get together an order of 85 cheeseburgers. Come to think of it, that would take an awful long time. Maybe that's not such a good idea. Oh well. I guess I could just say that the $40 will pay for that $40 sweater I bought at Norstrom on Saturday. But what would be the fun in that?