I was on stage at Kafe Kerouac reading a poem. It had a few very naughty words in it. Mid-poem Rachel R. got up, came on stage, looked around and asked, "Where's the Swear Jar?"
Not quite sure what happened after that, but it threw me off. Lost the second page of the poem and was not happy about it. At all.
You know, I could picture her doing something like that. Heck, I could picture several people doing that.
There's your fund raising event. Swear Jar night at Writers' Block.