Attention Queen Street panhandlers

The “spare change for weed” signs were funny the first time. Now that you’ve all had them for a while, they’re no longer effective, and when last I checked, weed was not a basic necessity of life.

To the sour couple who complain whenever I play on the same block on which they’re panhandling:

• I’m offering entertainment in exchange for money. What are you offering?
• I give you and a lot of other panners a cut of my take out of kindness, not because there’s some kind of rule of the street that entitles you to some of my money because I’m raking in more than you, even if I have a place to call home.
• Sulking and scowling isn’t a very good way to convince people to give you money.
• Rather than whine about how street muscians are “taking all your money away from you”, why don’t you get a fucking job? You’re not missing any limbs, and other than an attitude problem, you don’t seem to have any mental difficulties. The sense of entitlement is tiresome coming from dot-commers, and doubly so coming from you.

(You might find it odd that I’m putting a message to panhandlers on the Web, but I know at least a half dozen who read this blog. With Internet cafes popping up all over the city and charging a measly CDN$3 per hour, even people without homes are getting online.)