By popular demand from misguided drunkards, Digi now has a donation thing by which you can throw away your false cash that might otherwise have been spent on deserving tramps.

YOUR QUESTIONS ANTICIPATED.

Q. What?
A. Some people have been asking for a donate-o-button, so we've added one.

Q. Why?
A. Although you buy £5 worth of false cash at once to escape bruising third-party card-handler charges, you can claim a full refund of any unused part of that whenever you realise Digi's just some stupid mag, man. Therefore, because we're fine, upstanding idiots with tidy hair, we can spend only those 50ps subsequently handed over for weekly issues. (In other words, if your account contains £5 of false cash, and you've bought one spesh friend ish, £4.50 of that is still yours and we can't touch it.) Readers have been asking IN THIS VERY FORUM about some way of giving us more of that false cash without waiting to buy next week's ish. Bless.

Q. How?
A. Go to the Make a Donation, With R Hull page. If you have sufficient false cash in your account, you can make a donation of 50p. (The price of an ish.) And that's it. The 50p evaporates from your false cash pile, so it WON'T be refunded if you close your account, and appears under our special "can now be spent" mattress. You CAN'T waste more than you have in your false cash bank (so no worries about pledging us £100,000 while you sit there in your underpants overdosed on gin) and if you're hell-bent on throwing away EVEN MORE to finance our plans for international space blackmail* you have to do so in 50p increments, giving you plenty of time to COME TO YOUR SENSES. R Hull will also heckle you throughout.

Q. Where?
A. Gladstone & Disraeli's False Cash Bank page. (If you're not logged in, the direct link is http://digiworld.tv/d.tv?a=fc .) The R Hull link is tucked away discreetly in a futile attempt to preserve some pretence of dignity.

Thank you for your offers of fiscal support. We love you all. You DERANGED FOOLS.

JN.

*Lawyers! This is untrue. There is no partially completed laser-armed satellite in the Digiworld building attic requiring only a stabilising guidance computer and a smart coat of paint from Chapman Tillman just before he goes home for the night. (What? You Anglo-Saxon swines - C Tillman.)