An Appeal on Behalf of
My name is Grampion Strangely and no one knows better than me just how much the mountains of our planet need your help. Trust me, mountains are my life. I've been a mountaineer for over fifty years. I live, sleep and breathe mountains. I was born up a mountain, I've lived all my life up a mountain and I fully expect to die up one. In fact, on the rare occasions that I have to come down from the mountain, perhaps to buy more crampons or pick up my copy of Mountaineering Weekly, I get all panicky and have trouble breathing, and often I just have to sit down in the middle of the street until total strangers come along and help me. Sometimes I just have to find the nearest stepladder and stand at the top of it for a while until I can get my breath back. It's a living nightmare and no mistake. Anyhow, the point I'm trying to make is that I'm pretty hot on the whole subject, so you should definitely take my word for it when I tell you that some of these mountains are crying out for your help.
Yes, you heard me right. It's hard to believe, I know, but the fact is that these mountains really do need your help. We tend to think of them as being old enough and big enough to look after themselves, don't we? Surely mountains are dirty great shit hard lumpy things - how can they possibly need our help? Well let me tell you, just because you can blast a tunnel through something, it doesn't mean it can't have feelings. Just ask my Aunt Ethel.
That's why I'm making an appeal to you now. We're not asking for much. Just a handful of loose change can make all the difference, helping to pay for essential counselling, physiotherapy and cable cars. And if we manage to reach our target, then this year we'll be able to send mount Kilimanjaro on a much needed holiday to the Isle of Wight.
Note: Some of your contributions may be used to help dried up river valleys who have lost their families.
Squawk squawk squawk squawk squawk squawk.
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