HONK ONCE FOR WASPS, TWICE FOR YOU'RE TIRED

CANADA DAY LONG WEEKEND

Canada, a country the whole world sees as being just fine, is turning 145 years old on Sunday. July is a strange time to have a birthday considering most foreigners think we got icy nips 365 out of 365, but I'm not complaining, July is when anyone across the country can make their own raisins.

To commemorate this great place that I've jammed in my whole life, I've written lyrics to a brand new birthday song that reflects our multiculturalism and relative young age compared to old heavy hitters such as Niger. I hope that singing this song around a bucket of cake will become your family's July 1 tradition for years to come.

"We're Canada"

It's a big fuckin' place with lots of great lakes

And we make the syrup that goes on your 'cakes

It's a friendly mass full of black oil and gas

And we invented sports, milk, pizza and jazz

We're not a bunch of assholes, just visit and see

We call soda 'pop' and we fuckin' love trees

We're CANADA!

Home of the best

We're CANADA!

This is our nest

We're CANADA!

We put gravy on fries

Let's get naked and watch that flag rise

We breed huge meese and the plumpest of geese

And when it gets cold we eat soup and wear fleece

We make lots of jokes about U.S.A. folks

And we bike with tennis balls stuck in our spokes

Our money looks awesome, and healthcare is free

Rest in Peace Mr. Dressup and John Candy

We're CANADA!

Home of the best

We're CANADA!

This is our nest

We're CANADA!

We're an attractive lot

Check out all the big fuckin' fish that we've caught

[Freestyle Hip Hop Interlude by the Rascalz]

[Reggae Interlude by Snow]

[Guitar Solo]

[Church Choir chanting]

Happy Birthday to my country dad

I can't believe all the fun we've had

From Nova Scotia all the way to BC

Fuckin' true north strong and free


And for those sticking around this weekend, I'll be hosting a fireworks potluck on the roof of the Eaton Centre starting at sundown. Don't bother bringing chips because I have a potato guy who's hooking me up with six sacks of PEI's finest. I'm going to debut a new type of home fry that might help bring molasses back into the mainstream. 

TRUCK WITH SLINKY SHOCK ABSORBERS, FUNNEST TRUCK, MOST DANGEROUS TRUCK

I used to do this fun feature called "This Day in LiveJournal History" where I'd post a LiveJournal entry from my younger days then either scrutinize my former self or look back fondly on my naivete. Now that this 'journal' has entered its 4th year or so, I can start doing the same thing only with these posts, get it? This will also give new readers the opportunity to experience some classic articles without wasting their recess scrolling through everything, while imdb.com is waiting, just bursting at the seams with all things big and small screen. So, gather your belongings, go find your friend who has the best and crispest computer, bring along so Nibs to chew, and load up this brand new feature called...

"This Day in WIDAHIA History"

From June 28th, 2010, I gave readers an eyewitness account of the G20 riots here in Toronto.That was when world leaders from 20 raDiCal countries gathered in Southern Ontario to talk about money and whether or not seagulls could be turned into an affordable, nutritious jerky. Some citizens of Toronto took this as an opportunity to politely walk the streets with signs talking about how poor everyone is, while others took it as an opportunity to dress like Raiders fans, light cars on fire and smash the windows of banks and successful retail chains. The police couldn't handle it so they started arresting anyone with a backpack and a fondness for quinoa, and locking them up in an old movie studio that served plain cheese sandwiches and from what I hear, some pretty decent, yet scarce water.

Hindsight is 20. 20!


Looking back on that weekend I don't feel any different about what went down because I had nothing to do with any of it. In fact, I remember frequently switching my support between the police and the protestors probably because my old man is Head of Bushes at Greenpeace, while my mom is a Jedi. Just joking, I'm just neutral all the time because if you support something too much it probably means there's a bunch of people on the other side who hate you and don't invite you to their banquets.

The other day I saw this bike riding guy wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt that said "Fuck Cars" on the front and on the back there were McDonald's logos but instead of McDonald's it said "McDollars". I don't want to stereotype this human statement but I'd imagine he was ass-deep in G20.  I got thinking that even had the police not turned into a bunch of 'pre-vacation Buzz from Home Alones', the protest wouldn't have done anything to change that guy's shirt. Because I feel I'm getting too political it's time for the THURSDAY THICKET.

In the the thicket today I found:

An old soother attached to a chain that was wrapped around a tree that had had an arrow pointing up carved into its trunk that pointed to a large bird's nest that contained a bunch of fresh chicks. I guess this is the beginning of hunting season.

AN INTERESTING ARTICLE ON THE MERITS OF SHOWER BATHS

COTTAGE SPECIAL 

I thought I'd get some journalism done while my ceramic cardinal bakes in the kiln, and since kilns are known for their heat, I got inspired to discuss cottaging, summer's answer to moteling (spring). Why a cardinal? Honestly, they make me so happy.

What is a Cottage?

A cottage is a small house on, or near a lake, surrounded by trees, containing questionable bathrooms, boats, old TVs and board games that even grandpa thinks are stupid. Cottages can be bought just the same as regular houses, or rented just the same as dogs. Renting is fairly widespread, but it's best to start looking early because all the best places get booked in the fall. One memorable summer I waited too long and ended up in a dump in Fort Lauderdale. My story was eventually turned into a film, Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise.

Things to do in the rain

When you think of cottages you think of being outside in the sunshine, enjoying fresh coconuts while your honey bun tans naked out on the dock. Not every day can be sunny though, so you'll need a list of rainy day activities in your back pocket just in case. Canadian law stipulates that while at a cottage you must be outside at all times unless you're sleeping, making a meal that's not hamburgers, or using the bathroom for everything except vomiting. It may not be written in the history books, but most of cottage country was formed out from a glacier of puke that started at the best bar in Whitehorse known for its strong whiskey that gold miners would mix with moose piss. Anyway, because of this, the rainy day activities I'm about to make up aren't your everyday fuckin' arts and crafts, make a robot out of backpacks indoors type of shit.

- yell at some flowers. Say stuff like "enjoy it while it lasts" and "I could spit on you and you wouldn't know the difference"
- count raindrops with your best friend until one of you gets tired. The loser has to go be offensive to elderly locals
- put a pot over an open fire and enjoy a steady stream of fresh boiling water then add some birch bark to make a tea that will make your mind think the colour blue is the number 12
- record some thunder and then play it when the sun comes out again. Did you know that was how IMAX started?

The Fishing Report

Fish remain waterproof and fairly slippery. The best method to catch one is to use a traditional rod and reel baited with this summer's hottest new bait trend, a HUMAN EAR.

I'd advise against the method of tying a rope around your cat and tossing it in because cats can't swim very well at all, and you can't even talk to them about the experience afterward. In fact, don't bring your cat to the cottage at all. A cat loves being home alone because it hates how you smell. The best way to feed your cat while you're away is to just leave a pile of groceries in the middle of the living room. Throw a few lizards on the pile and that should regulate things enough so that it doesn't eat everything at once.

Cottage Recipe 

Basic Fish Dinner

1 Fresh Fish
Sugar
1 flag

Cook the fish any way you want. My favourite cottage method is to stick a cigarette in the fish's mouth while it's gasping for water. The chemicals from the smoke will cure the animal from the inside out and it makes for a cute photo you can turn into a desktop wallpaper at work.

Take your favourite flag and wrap the fish in it. Salute the package then submerge in a bucket for of sugar. Take it out after a few hours and serve with fresh berries.

Funny Pages

Use these cottage jokes all over cottage country. You might even impress the canoe salesman enough that he decides to invite you over to throw tomatoes at his wife.

(At the General Store in town) You guys don't sell Admirals here, do you?

What does a motor boat, some corn and a Jeep have in common? They're all American classics! 


 A rabbi, a priest and and a librarian walk into a lake. The rabbi says, "this is God's creation", the priest says "this is God's creation" and the librarian says "you guys ever read Roald Dahl?".


We were at the cottage and my son asked if we could go for a hike. I said yes, then gave him a wedgie and threw him in the woods. 


What do you call a cottage sunset? I don't know I'm too busy drying my bathing suit.

IT'S HARD LIVING ON A STRICT BUDGIE

MOVIE REVIEW

"MOONRISE KINGDOM"

 
Peace loving softies everywhere were eagerly anticipating the release of this film ever since creator Wes Anderson's last film The Fantastic Mr. Fox gave them something to talk about over tea and tears.

This new one is about two twelve year-olds who run away together because no one they know approves of their love. Damn right. They don't know what they're doing. You never hear anyone say "It's ridiculous that legal marriage age isn't 10". I guess it's supposed to be cute. I'll tell you what's cute -- Yoda as a baby.

The little boy is a precocious, orphaned boy scout who seems to know what he's doing even though he looks young enough to be my son. No one likes him except his steady girl and he doesn't seem to give a shit about anything but her. Someone show this kid a water slide!

The little girl is an arty and depressed. Have you seen Royal Tenenbaums? She's exactly like Gwenyth Paltrow in that thing. I'm naturally weary of any kid who likes anything but Christmas, candy and toys. I don't even think this girl mentions chocolate once for Heaven's sake.

Shit! You know what would be cool? If in the next Fast and Furious movie, the preview goes "Warning, this preview contains spoilers" and then the next shot is a slow pan across the back of all these oUtRagEous sports cars and they all have cool spoilers. Have they done that already? You could do the same with a movie about rats or bees, or even one about milk and the sun. OH! And if Mel Brooks ever makes a movie again, the poster should say "Mel Brooks Resents... " because that's just his style.

Anyway, everything in this movie looks crisp and plaid. Typical of the Wes-ster, no one in it ever watches TV or talks about stuff regular old stuff like groceries or wrestling. All they ever do is read, listen to French records and cheat on each other. I bet when you go to Wes' house you're not allowed to use the bathroom. And I bet he took out his shower and added a train set or something. His toilet paper is probably yellow fabric.

Bill Murray reprises his role as an intelligent, wealthy depressed man whose wife is of course cheating on him with the Island's policeman played by the Bruce "Iron Goose" Willis. Neither of these two famous sex machines were particularly memorable, which is good for me because I needed that space in my brain to remember how much mayonnaise goes into a pound of coleslaw.

I give this movie about a 6.5 out of 10. It wasn't a watch-checker but I did find my mind wandering from time to time. I didn't get any snacks but I did get some pizza and wings after the show. The next morning my butt hurt.

I WOULDN'T CALL IT 'ABNORMAL' BUT YEAH, THERE'S DEFINITELY A SPIDER'S NEST ON YOUR TONGUE

You know what's worse than living in the city during a heatwave? Living in the city during a heatwave WHILE having problems with your pen pal. Seriously man, I don't need this, I got stuff on my mind. Do you know how many farmer's markets have begun operating over the last few weeks? I got so many salad variations dancin' in my head that just the other day I accidentally told my financial adviser to move my investments toward radishes and balsamic vinaigrettes.

Anyway, the trouble started a couple weeks back when Amil, my pen pal of 17 years, wrote me this uncharacteristically brief letter:

Normally, when I get a letter from Amil, I go to my favourite chair, grab a two-litre bottle of Canada Dry and a handful of arugula, and I relax. I spend hours mulling over his wisdom, humour and stories of sucking oil straight out of the ground through a bendy straw that's then used as fuel for the area's famous fire breathing goats. I look forward to these readings almost as much as I love fresh radicchio or looking for defects in designer clothes at Winners.

I called up Amil's papa and asked him just what in the hell was going on, and he said some missionaries had come by their pit and handed out new computers and back issues of George Magazine. He said Amil had fallen in love with technology and had even started downloading as many pictures of umbrellas as he could find (in his culture they call umbrellas God's Hats). It was looking like this was going to be an uphill battle. 

The thing is, I can't just insert Amil into my daily Internet routine, he won't fit. I use the Internet to rid myself of emotion, not fill myself up with it. Anyway, I wanted to give Amil a taste of what email is all about, a real dose of reality, so the first one I sent him is similar to what I'd write to my local pals:

yo amil, sick weather in T-Dot this weekend, im goin to the jays probably they're playng baltimore. you'd love baseball, it's a lot like poker hahahahahahahah

- glenn

Keep in mind he's used to well-written, expressive letters from me. I also add personal touches such as adding banana stickers, which he still thinks is my family's seal. It got so far that I had to explain how we changed our name from Dole to Del Monte when my sister, the Princess, decided to marry a strawberry Duke. I hate to lie but this guy doesn't even know what a Stop Sign is, so no big deal.

Anyway, he responded with this:

lol dis..!!$$ getmoney getmoney hehe jus suw mor girlz on camputa. $$$$exyyyyyyyyyyy u kno? how do i get a # from 1? where dey fones at??? hollllllllllla jus lirned about MIA mu$ic wholy sh!t
- Fonz

Looks like the little bastard has given himself a new nickname. If everyone gave themselves a nickname there's be thousands of guys named Chard walking around.

So I can either cut him off completely, or keep this garbage up. The problem is, if I cease correspondence I will no longer accumulate Big Brother credits, which I'm planning to put toward this Fabergé Egg that was designed by Funny Car legend John Force. Maybe I'll just send him a damn X-Box. Better yet, a pallet of fresh Romaine.

A REAL 'TIME OF YOUR LIFE' TYPE OF CIRCUS

!!!!!!!!!*Mid-Week Madness*¡¡¡¡¡¡¡

Sorry, I apologize, there won't be any Mid-Week Madness today. I tried write an exceptionally mad Mid-Week Madness last week but I couldn't quite find the madness in my own life. There was going to be the usual mix of fun, games, poems and photos of itty bitty creatures that would have you skipping into your late week compulsories, ready for the weekend freestyle, but to no avail. I tried again today but it's hard to get mad when you have a case of the mid-week blahs and blues. So instead, here's a very straight-forward, rational treatise on the Myth of Mid-Week Madness.

The Myth of Mid-Week Madness

Groundbreaking weekday analyst, Dr. Charlie Pins, famously postulated that one's week can be easily be imagined as fishing village on the coast of a large sea. The week begins on Sunday, which in our imagined world is your boat (it can be any boat, who cares?) leaving port headed for an island surrounded by gigantic fish that taste like meatballs when cooked properly. A real cash crop, you know?

Heading out to the island takes time. The first day at sea (Monday) is lonely and frustrating because the shallow waters just offshore are teeming with big sharks and the kind of eels that suck shit. By the time day 2 of the voyage rolls around, you're already tired of the whole expedition and even though you're getting closer to the island, you still can't see it on the horizon.

Day 3. You reach the fishing grounds around the island. You know it's going to be hard work but soon you'll get to turn the boat around and head home to your wife and 16 scorpions. You fill the boat up with fresh fish and even manage to score with some island natives who don't believe in monogamy.

Even though you simply go back the way you came, and you've done the trip a hundred times, the experience is different in a positive way. Your boat, belly and ears are full, and the same sharks you encountered on the way there are in a good mood and giving little monkeys rides before they're eaten.

Before you know it you're back home and the whole tribe celebrates by huffing a hallucinogenic coconut gas called the natives call Striped Cheese, based on what the gas makes your face look like. It also turns trees into blockbuster movies and old huts into really good basements.

Anyway, to assign a certain 'madness' to a mid-week or in our example, mid-fishing trip is simply not rational, if we view time as being abstract.

Whether or not Dr. Pins' work can be comparable to any earlier research on the subject depends on where one.s vIewssare cool manfridaysaturday[aortybeirsd k;asdl sdkdf;s.  akjsdkljf a;sdao0wejf3923rasd
vf


I'm getting it!&&&$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

The madness is setting in!!

 

 

THE CRAP GAP (YOUR BUTT)

Summer Swim Guide

 

*Disclaimer*

Swimming should only be done under the supervision of a certified dive technician with at least 25 years of experience. Always keep a copy of Divid Flu's Swinning tucked safely into your wet pants in case there's an emergency during maneuvers. Don't let your cat drink pool water, it's turns their eyes black.

First off, thanks to everyone who signed up for last year's Snorkel Club. By the end of the summer we donated over forty five snorkels to the No Squat Squad who teaches wealthy, young female campers how to pee outdoors while standing up using nothing but a simple snorkel. After an intensive disinfection process, the snorkels were then re-purposed as fun straws for the poor camp across the way. To participate this year leave two mangoes on your dashboard by July 1st.

New Moves

No point delaying the most popular feature of the annual swim guide, the newest diving board tricks, pulled from some of the world's top all-season pools.

Half Raisin

It's a pretty simple aesthetic non-aerial nude dangle, marathon style. Simply hang yourself off the board exposing just your lower half to the water. Remain dangling for one hour while being careful not to get any upsplash on your torso or above. After one hour, pull yourself back up and let your prisoners gaze jealously at your nude body that should now display a perfect half-prune.

Chum

Simple is in the season. To start off a killer Chum, induce a nose or ear bleed somewhere out of sight, like in the rose bushes behind the board or in the storage shed. Once you've established a rapid gush, fill your mouth with canned tuna or simply your favourite sea or lake food. Freestyle a dope aerial then while underwater, spit out the food and apply pressure to the origin of the bleeding to ensure maximum leakage. Emerge to the awe of the funeral guests.

Wette Riddler

The is adapted from a famous David Blane illusion that got popular February of this year in the pool behind Larry's Card Games in Las Vegas, where pool parties are all too common. This is a complicated trick that takes all day to pull-off. During the daytime, you'll need to give yourself a vicious sunburn on one side of your body. I prefer to burn my back just because it brings back fond memories of my days as one of the human bacons. Once night falls, drink half a bottle of fresh gin and head to the highest diving board in your county. Gather together as many sluts and captains as you can and have them bet on either "Stomach" or "Back". When the time is right, perform a flop on the opposite side your burns are on, so in this example since my back is burned I'd perform a classic belly flop. Once emerged from the dark depths watch in delight as your guests try to figure out how you managed to pull off the thought to be impossible full body flop when in reality you fooled them like a dog who pretends he's a turkey on Easter.

How to Teach your Child to Swim

The Canadian Water Association has recently revamped their youth swimming teaching protocol, and instead of posting the entire 600 page pdf document, which I read during an 8 hour bath, I'll just give you the main points.

• Strip 'em then dip 'em
• If they don't scream, go inside and make lunch
• Put some snakes in the deep end so they don't swim over there
• If you don't have snakes threaten to disclose pertinent information regarding the validity of the Santa Claus
• to keep child from drowning, attach pizza to fishing rod and hold above water
• If your child is a real sinker show them some drowning victims then make them take a shot of bourbon. They'll learn
• Let them eat whatever they want before getting in the pool because diarrhea has been found to distract from drowning

Gadget Corner

I went to the Swimming Pool Consumer Expo last week and the big MUST GET pool gadget for 2012 is the Balston Water Mate.

Are you tired of filling your pool with hose water every summer only to have to turn it into pool water then into pickle brine come September? Yes, of course you are because you don't get enough sleep because the hum of your pool heater makes the dog go crazy and start barking then the baby wakes up then you have to bake it some milk and by the time the baby has been fed, washed and bound it's time to go to work again.

Simply attach the system to the tank of any standard toilet and then run a line back into your pool's filtration system with an extra line leading to your pickling table in the basement. Setup should only take a few seconds depending on the make and model of your household droid.

Encourage your family to use the bathroom as much as possible leading up to pool season and by the time Mr. Sun rears his hot fucking ass you should have a pool full of crystal clear, recycled water. Once it gets too cold to swim, hit the reverse button and enjoy a unique tasting pickle brine that's sure to impress local royalty. I was given a test unit to try out last summer and my pickles ended up crisper than ever with a distinct odor of sewage and chlorine, ideal for the serious connoisseur.

TRUMPETS SIGNAL THE ARRIVAL OF THE BARF

Last weekend I wanted to take my six year old brother Blade and his girlfriend Judy to African Lion Safari in Guelph. It's a great place where kids can meet their heroes and adults can get their car ripped apart by monkeys with simply outrageous butts.

On the drive there, everything was going smooth until Blade threw Judy's cabbage cone out the window because she made fun of his favourite Aerosmith song, Love in an Elevator. I got all distracted trying to calm them down and I must have made a wrong turn in the process because although we ended up at a jungle adventure park, I don't think it was the right one. After traveling down a long, gravel laneway lined with Arby's billboards and Portuguese flags, we drove underneath a sign that indicated we had reached:

 A Freakin' Lion Safari
Some damn animals

Since the kids were already driving me nuts, I decided we might as well just go with it. It claimed it had lions and there were bound to be bathrooms and somewhere to get fries, so why not?

I drove up to a ticket booth and was met by a guy who looked like Bernie Lomax, the titular character from Weekend at Bernie's, shades and all. His name tag read "Designated Honker", which I assumed had something to do with Women's breasts, since taped to the wall were several printed out pictures of naked women with Melissa Joan Hart's face Photoshopped in.

"20 clams for adults, 10 clams for each for the turds. Parking is 50 but you can park wherever you want, even right here [he pointed down into his lap], the fuck do I care?" he said.

I paid the man and he gave me back one swath of black felt and two swaths or red. On the black he had written in permanent marker, "MAN" and then on each of the red ones he wrote "BABY". We drove on through, parked beside of mound of scrap metal and saw what looked like a fenced-in public swimming pool. 

We soon learned that this was know as "The Pit" and indeed was once a public swimming pool that closed down in the late 80's due to a lamprey infestation. 

A park ranger who was dressed more like a a Jedi, but instead of a light saber he was holding a net, was telling the small gathered crowd what kind of animals were in the pit.

"God' honest truth, it's mostly frogs in there. If you look over by the pile of boots you'll see our lion, her name is Twix. There's some regular Ontario birds, they come and go, whole lotta worms, and there's a litter of beagles that was born two weeks ago. Questions?"

I asked him if there were any other animal attractions in the park and he said to pull our car around behind the west shack if we wanted to experience the freakin' safari. I was hesitant to say the least, but Blade and Judy seemed to be having fun so we hopped back in the car and met the ranger behind the west shack. 

The "Savannah" looked like nothing more than a bunch of interconnected youth soccer fields, compete with rusted out goalposts. The ranger had told me to keep the car under 15 km/h  and just follow the pylons, that looked to me like cheap witch's hats spray painted orange. Several were just blowing in the wind. I didn't understand the strict speed limit until the ranger himself began to jog beside the car, giving a running commentary on the animals in the fields. There wasn't anything too exotic -- a couple of cows, some pigs, a large nest of opossums, but up ahead we spotted some monkeys playing on one of the goalposts.

"Oh shit, what are those?" The ranger asked me, almost out of breath. 

I told him they were monkeys to which he sort of stared at them then veered off into the forest that borders the fields. Never saw him again. 

Based on that I decided to turn around and end the safari portion of our trip.   

There was a small hot dog stand near the old pool that only served toast and jam, so we grabbed a few and ate them on a slightly rotten picnic table. Since it was old it was covered in carvings of people's initials and accusations of homosexuality, but what really drew my attention was something that read "STay AFteR DaRk anD We wilL CUT YOU". As we were finally driving out past the ticket booth on our way home there was a very well made sign with the same slogan. What a day!

TELL A DOG TO HEAL AND SOMETIMES THEY BRING YOU CHICKEN SOUP

My Plan to Improve Our Earth

I think we can all agree that the human world is shitty right now. Europe spent all its money on wine and vacations, the Middle East remains pissed off that they don't ever get winter, the U.S.A. thinks its still a cool teenager when it's really an old man who thinks Tumblr has something to do with Rollerblades, and Asia has yet to fully embrace the NFL. Then there's the rest of the world who hasn't contributed a solid invention since Brazil invented flip flops.

I know this sounds extreme, but maybe it's time to finally anoint a King of the World. I'm not saying I'd be the best man for the job, I mean Huey Lewis or a decent mom would be probably be better, but I would promise to rule on a platform of "Relax everyone, the only things that are serious around here are babies and buddies". Like, if someone yanks your Swatch because their watch isn't funky enough, just let it go. Who cares? But if someone steals your friend Paul, come tell me and I'll send one of my Rhino Riders to get him back and even let him stay a couple of nights in the food court-inspired guest bedroom in the north wing of the castle.

Old Michael brandishing his longsword "Babe Saver" atop my largest bull, the mighty Alan

How am I going to pay my Rhino Riders, Spear-Wielding Black Belt Scientists, SCUBA Bears and live bands? With fully-stocked banquets. This is just simple human math, man. You ever seen Beowulf 3D? Those guys didn't care who much gold was in their socks so long as the banquet hall was full of rice, juice and fun girls who just want to meet some fun guys, no strings attached.

How will I pay for all the produce? I'll grow it, no problem. My castle will be surrounded with fields and pastures and my chefs will be able to live for free in underground tunnels beneath them. There will be a cute little choo choo train that can take them to and fro their neighbours' holes. The train will surface into a forest that I will fill with kittens and sprinklers. This part of the trip is simply for amusement, but I suspect most hole-women will use it to dry their hair thanks to the open air train cars modeled after traditional GT Snow Racers.

Everyone will be able to do whatever they want. The great thing about this decree is that there's bound to be a whole bunch of people who get so bored they'll work anyway. There's no reason to worry that we can't survive this way. Animals are so stupid and yet they live off the Earth with ease. In fact, their biggest threat is our garbage and thirst for mansions.

The only issue I think we're going to have if we go back to living like animals is the whole survival of the fittest thing. When we gave that up following the ice age (it had something to do with jocks wearing nerds as coats instead of killing them), nerds were suddenly able to breed and we ended up with scientists who built us the coolest stuff and made it so we could eat food that was never alive. That makes me think -- when we started making things out of metal, we tried eating it first, right?

Anyway, it wouldn't be fair to treat the weak-bodied, yet strong-minded with disrespect because the point of this whole thing is to be cool. I suggest using a country like Norway as a playground for strong people. They can go climb, fight, kill, surf or whatever and when they go home they will be so relaxed and relaxation is peace unless you have a nightmare about a world without movies.

SNORT YOUR FOOD YOU WON'T GET FULL

In a rare occurrence I used the post office today and I was shocked to find out that it ain't what it used to be. Please read on to find out more, or if you're in a rush just watch this, it's pretty much the same thing.

Anyway, I just wanted to make sure I have all of this on record before things get out of hand. One time I found out that most Ontario milk is 49% egg whites but I didn't say anything because I had just bought a new Where's Waldo? graphic novel and got immersed in it for a month. Thank goodness the Fifth Estate eventually uncovered the story because my protein levels were far above Popeye and I couldn't stop beating up nerds.

A typical 20th century Post Office, or "Silly Bank" as they were called in the Maritime Provinces

Back before computers destroyed everything that old people enjoy, the Post Office was commonly the biggest and most impressive structure in any North American town. Entering through its doors made the Earth feel smaller, a magical place where messages from around the world crossed paths, not unlike a whorehouse close to the airport. Friends and neighbours would wait patiently in line and warn one another about any new immigrants in town while listening to the swingin' sounds of Narf and the Gay Potatoes over the loudspeaker. Going to the Post Office was an enjoyable experience, but like everything except candy, it got all shitty.

A typical modern Shoppers Drug Mart as designed by the wizards at Pixar

Nowadays it's pretty hard to find a post office that isn't in a Shoppers Drug Mart. It's probably because Shoppers cashed in some of their UNLIMITED Optimum points. "Post Office" is the second most expensive item in the Optimum Catalogue, the most expensive being a three course meal cooked by Brent Butt, and served on Brent Butt.

Typical Post Office Clerk, 1986

It used to be you could go to your post office to not only send and receive mail, but also get a malt, a shave, a roast for dinner and a shoulder to cry on all thanks to the friendly clerks who interestingly enough, were usually paid in tires. That's why you sometimes hear post office clerks referred to as "Rubber Dudes". Most clerks were thought of in the same fond regard as the late night television hosts of the day. In fact, Johnny Carson was a post office clerk until he messed up and mailed a bomb to the Taj Mahal after a psychopathic house wive assured him it was nothing but a piping hot pecan pie baked fresh for the emperor.

Artist's rendering of the clerk I met with today

This afternoon I needed send some shoes back to their manufacturer because they were shitty and I didn't like them. My allergies were acting up and I needed some new garbage bags too, so decided to kill three birds with one punch and head to my local Shoppers Drug Mart. At the mail counter I was met by a lady who seemed very pissed off that I didn't really know how to mail a pair of shoes to California. Seriously lady, what the hell? I barely know how to mail a letter anymore, let alone and entire pair of shoes. While I was filling out some form she also yelled at an old Indian man for a bit. Mind you, he was kind of dumb too, but hey, that's the modern post office/drug store for you, every aisle you're met with something you stick in a human hole and a moron. When the clerk asked me "are these a gift?" I should've said, "Yeah, what's the address of your butt?". Instead I thanked her nicely because I'd like to keep the spirit of the post office alive.

Now for some suitable exit music:

OLD YELLOW DOG

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.