Five Years of Rude Punditry: Toss Some Money into the Top Hat in Front of the Soap Box:
Jesus fuckin' Christ. Some days it's hard to be the crazy guy ranting on the corner that the world's a-gonna end.

Look over at that long ass list of archive dates over there. This week marks the end of five years of bloggery on this street corner. That's like 300 or so years in human terms. The Rude Pundit is slowly transforming this postage stamp of pavement into a multimedia atoll of rudeness, with the addition of video shit and with (at long last) Rude Pundit podcasts underway. He has other ideas (including a special feature starting this week), so he's doing one of his once or twice a year fundraising pushes.

Call this the Fifth Anniversary Reader Shakedown Spectacular. Or maybe a bailout. It's a little way to give some love. And it'll be a self-esteem boost, like getting it on with that 18 year-old who works at the front desk, if you think you're buying the Rude Pundit a beer or a fancy new MP3 recorder with two mikes instead of one (that's on the wish list).

Click on that Paypal thing over on the side there. Or right here:

This'll roll until next Monday, the start of the sixth year of fucking with the right.

And, it being a fifth anniversary, which is, you know, the one where you get wood, let's open this fucker up for questions, too. What do you want to know? Ask the Rude Pundit. He'll post the best queries with answers over the next week. You know the address: rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com (goddamn spambots).

And, hey, there'll be treats too. Like this one: it's from the RNC protest a couple of weeks ago, where the Rude Pundit met the Missile Dick Chicks.

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