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This blog's purpose is to follow politics in Ontario. I will be posting my view on the issues and any relevant articles or opinions. I have worked with politicians for many years -- I must admit I don't have a huge amount of respect for most of them, but occasionally they surprise you.
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2007
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September
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- High Gear -- for a tricycle
- Toronto Star -- fundamental and unethical bias
- Equal time: Selection of JohnTory ads also some Gr...
- Selection of Dalton McGuinty ads from Youtube
- Dalton should be cleaning the floor with his oppon...
- The Debate -- the killer blow
- Tory -- trying very hard to lose the election
- Off topic But I have to print this
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- Its a long way to tipperary, its a long way to go ...
- Education Minister's riding a beach head riding fo...
- Liberal and PC fiscal platforms
- Leaders equally Toxic
- Creationism in the schools
- Ontario's NDP
- New holiday -- February
- Prudent -- what in the name of all that is%^&$# is...
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September
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2 comments:
The New February Holiday Alternative
The link leads to an audio version of the text that I have included in this email.
http://weblog.mikeysboomercafe.com/viewtopic.php?t=556
HOW MUCH KOLBASSA WOULD A WOODCHUCK CHUCK?
NOTE: The following article contains musical interludes - a first not only for this newspaper, but also for Ontario since the invention of language ... and just another sign that we are indeed living in strange times!
WARNING: Tone deaf and rythmically-challenged readers/listeners should not continue beyond this point!
(Sung to the tune of ‘Shboom’ by The Crewcuts)
Kaching! Kaching! Yuck yuck I’m stuck in the muck!
Do you remember a few Februaries past when the operative question was, “Hey Buddy. Can you spare a snowblower ... or a flamethrower?
It has become all too evident that during those interminable wintry times that Ontarians time again suffer needlessly from ‘The Hackin’ Pneumonia and Mushy Dress Socks Blues’.
According to Monsieur McGuinty, what Ontario needs is another holiday - or maybe even two - to break up the grey interlude between Christmas and Easter. Québec has its Carnaval, New Orleans has its Mardi Gras, and what do the rest of us do? That’s right – we sit around waiting for a hibernating rodent, encouraged by electric prods, to stick its nose out of a dank burrow and hint to us what the weather might be like six weeks later. I’d rather take my chances with The Inuit Farmer’s Almanac.
Kaching! Kaching! Boo Hoo it looks like pooh!
As a public service I propose to my fellow, suffering Ontarians the creation of The Ukrainian Woodchuck (pronounced WoodCHOOK) Festival. It would begin on February 2 of the Gregorian Calendar, run for two weeks and end on February 2 of the Julian Calendar.
The event would begin with the annual Running of the Woodchuck. Children would dig up hibernating groundhogs and chase the rodents through the streets of major cities in the land. The slower woodchucks would be ground up into any variety of kolbassa that a reveller could imagine. Appetizing indeed when the only other cultural, winter alternative is hagis. No ‘tilt in yer kilt’ jokes please!
Kaching! Kaching! Dum dum dum dum dum dum!
Pinatas could be fashioned from the really slow groundhogs and stuffed with those Christmas leftovers that you bought way back last November.
Since the ambient body temperature of most hibernating mammals is approximately 5°C, woodchucks are rather sedentary in February. With all the hype over interactive toys (think back to Furbies and Tickle Me Elmo) what better substitute? All over the country, disadvantaged kids, who don’t know any better, would squeal with joy at the chance to possess their own slightly odoriferous Nouveau Furby. Of course there would be instructions included, written in about 17 different languages translated by the valedictorian of Beijing No. 14 High School, warning about not changing the batteries.
Kaching! Kaching! Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!
After a number of cross-multicultural celebrations, like Scottish woodchucking, the Festival would terminate with ‘The Political Forest Scrum’. Politicians would be stripped naked at 6 pm and told there are 100 voters in a nearby snow-filled forest and that the one who gets to the most of them by morning will receive a pension for life. In reality there would be only 10 voters scattered throughout the designated area. Of course these electors would be warmly dressed while the politicians would suffer little harm seeing as how blood flow to many parts of their body - such as the brain - is quite limited to begin with.
The colour of their skin the following day would predict the winner of the next election - blue - a Tory victory; red - a Liberal government; yellow - NDPee!
(P.S. No woodchucks or politicians were hurt in the writing of this piece.)
(Sorry. No more verses. If you’ve read this far you deserve a break!)
The link leads to an audio version of the text that I have included in this email.
http://weblog.mikeysboomercafe.com/viewtopic.php?t=556
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