A Day In The Life Of A Drunkard Mayor

Back again to the infamous crack smoking Mayor of Toronto, Rob "Drunken Stupor" Ford. Can I just say that writing in his voice is a bit unpleasant? And by a bit I mean a lot. The sooner this monumental prick and his brother are removed from public life forever, the better....

9:00 AM. Alarm goes off. Smash my hand onto it to shut it up. Who the **** set that alarm clock? Back to sleep. I wake up whenever the **** I want to wake up.

10:55 AM. Wake up out of deep sleep. Dreamed of having all my political enemies burned at the stake. That'd show those ****ers not to mess with ol' Robbie Ford. Hey, what happened to the alarm clock?

12:45 PM. Finally turn up at City Hall. Hey, I'm a half hour earlier than usual. I could've used that time to get more drinking in. I guess I'll just hide in my office and down a fifth of Scotch, light up some crack while I'm at it. Oh, crack, if I could marry you...

12:55 PM.  I get interrupted smoking crack when Dougie shows up at my office and tells me I missed a court appearance this morning. Oh, who gives a **** about that? The judges are all in on that big conspiracy against me, with the media and the left wingers and the granola eating downtown ****ers and the Premier and the Queen of England and the King of Spain and the Pope and the unions and the police chief. They're all out to get me, but Ford Nation will never stop loving me.

1:15 PM. Dougie gives me some peanut butter to chew on so I can conceal the smell of booze on my breath. That's what a good brother is for, always has my back. Time for that Council meeting, Dougie? Too bad we can't have all those councillors tarred and feathered and run outta town, right Dougie? Don't worry. Once we get ourselves into that whole world domination thing, we'll do just that.

1:40 PM. Heckling that ****er while he's talking to the rest of council. Damn it, I could use a drink. Instead I belch loudly and laugh about it. The Speaker asks me to behave myself. 

Hey! Don't you tell me what to do! **** off!

1:41 PM. Apologizing to Council for my outburst. I swear it won't happen again. We're past it all now, it's all in the past, guaranteed, it won't happen again, we've gotta move forward now, gravy train gravy train gravy train.

1:50 PM. Screaming profanities at that ****er Matlow and that other ****er Vaughn. I hate those two ****ers. Hate both of them. I wanna see them dead. I wanna burn their houses to the ground. They're just jealous of me. They know I'm a real classy guy and a lot better than they'll ever be. Yeah. Jealous.

1:51 PM. Dragged out of Council chambers by security. Oh, **** you! You hear me? **** you! You just declared war again on Robbie Ford, and I'm gonna go scorched earth on every single one of you ****ers!

2:05 PM. Dougie's in with me and our new public relations guy. Cyrus is a great guy, salt of the earth, just like me. Plus he's a good source for crack. Got himself in and outta jail, but that's because the media and the police and all those left wing ****ers are out to get him just like they're out to get me. ****ers, the lot of them. When Cyrus was in jail, I had to ask that Bieber kid to score me some crack. Geez, I hope that kid doesn't inadvertently let that slip. I mean, he's a lot of fun to smoke dope with, but I don't think he can stand up to serious questions for more than five minutes. So Dougie and Cyrus and me are tryin' to figure out how to spin what happened in Council today. **** it, Dougie, I'll just go out there, give the press the finger, and kick their butts if they don't like it.

Oh, ****!!! The lawyers just showed up. I hate lawyers. Always telling me that I can't do this or that or that I'd better shape up or I'll be in real trouble. **** 'em. 

2:07 PM. The lawyer's laying down the riot act. I pretend to listen while rolling my eyes. Dougie's rolling his eyes too. Too busy brainstorming campaign slogans. King Of Crack. I Heart Crack. I Need More Crack. I wonder how those would play out in North York.

2:10 PM. Look, I'll make this simple. The people are on my side, except those left wing ****ers, but the silent majority will vote for me no matter what they tell the polls. They know my track record. Come October, I'm back in, and then we're gonna go ballistic on the rest of those ****ers in Council. I guarantee it. Never push a Ford against the wall, because we fight dirty, we know gangbangers who can break legs, and we believe in revenge.

2:15 PM. The ****ing lawyer tells me I don't have a choice. I have to be contrite and issue a statement. 

Well, I can pretend to be contrite and sincere and say it won't happen again.

2:30 PM. Coming out to the press. I start to work my way through a statement, saying that I'm really sorry about what happened earlier, that I've been through a lot of stress, and it won't happen again. Look, the people elected me to do a job, and I'm in there working hard every day, and... don't interrupt me with questions, all right? You idiots know I don't like questions that dare sound critical about me. Hey! **** you!!!!

2:32 pm. Dougie and the lawyer drag me away from the media scrum. The lawyer mutters something about quitting working for me. Back into the office then. Need something to calm down.

3:05 PM. That hits the spot. Nice bottle of vodka. Smoking some crack. All's good with the world.

3:15 PM. Sneak out the back door while Dougie's got the media occupied. I need a drink. And I don't need a driver to get me where I'm going. I'm good to drive.

3:35 PM. Walk away from the SUV after plowing it into a barricade. Geez, I'd better not let anyone catch me here.

4:05 PM. Having a drink in the pub. Feeling woozy. Wonder if I hit my head in the accident. Maybe I'd better get myself checked out.

4:10 PM. Run into some guy in red out on the street while stumbling around drunk. Not sure what happens next.

10:45 PM. Waking up in jail cell. How the **** did I turn up here? At least I know some of the company. Hey, Butch, what are you in for?

11:15 PM. Dougie comes to see me. Tells me I'll be out soon, but I've been charged with assaulting a police officer, driving under the influence, and public intoxication. I ask him how I got in here. He says I ran into a cranky Mountie named Lars Ulrich. What? Since when is the drummer for Metallica a Mountie?

Dougie tells me I mentioned that to him, took a swing at him, and he hit back. Dougie says the guy doesn't like it when people mistake him for the other Lars Ulrich. That explains why my face feels like it got clobbered by a sledgehammer. That guy didn't leave a mark on my perfect face, did he? Come on, so what if he was a cop? Doesn't mean he can arrest me! You and me, we hate cops from way back. Always doin' their jobs and arrestin' our buddies. Dougie, we gotta send a gangbanger to teach this **** Ulrich some ****ing manners.

Whaddya mean that's a real bad idea?

12:50 AM. Dougie and the lawyer march me out past a horde of reporters after making bail. They're all shouting questions. Way too loud. I've already got a hangover. Need more booze to make it go away. One of them asks when I'll finally quit the mayoral race and stop making an ass of myself.

Hey, **** you! Nobody tells me I'm making an ass of myself! Nobody! You're all out to get me! You're the problem! Not me! I'm a great guy! So **** you!!! I'm walking outta here with my dignity intact.

Still not steady on my feet. Fall over and split my pants when I hit the pavement. Cameras going off. All of them catch sight of my Where's Waldo boxer shorts.

Oh, ****, this is gonna make the front pages of the papers, isn't it?

An Easter Weekend Day In The Life Of A Cat

Have you woken up with a chocolate sugar hangover this morning? Good. The only cure is more Easter chocolate. Before we get started today, some links for you to check out. Yesterday being a Snippet Sunday, Norma had a post up at her blog. And we had one as well at the joint blog. Shelly's dogs had their holiday greetings. Krisztina had some ideas at her blog for deviled eggs. Whisk had some timely advice. And Cheryl had this crime blotter feature at her blog. Now then, it's the cat's turn to shine with her take on the Easter weekend. Hide the catnip.

8:10 AM. Waking up. Big stretch required. Followed by enormous yawn. Best way to start the day. 

8:15 AM. I hear the staff upstairs. She's been pleased to have a four day weekend. I wouldn't call it a four day weekend. Instead of spending the whole four days catering to my whims, she was gone all day yesterday to visit that sister, her idiot husband, and their annoying children. I suppose it could have been worse. First, she didn't dress me up in a bunny costume for Easter photos. Second, the annoying relations didn't come here.

8:17 AM. Looking outside. The snow we had the other day finally seems to be melting. I think I'll have an excursion outside, see if I can dig around in the garden yet. Breakfast first, though, and the staff had better not be giving me field rations.

8:30 AM. Hello, staff. It's about time you got downstairs. How about you make yourself useful and feed me?

8:33 AM. I sigh with absolute dismay and roll my eyes. Why am I burdened with a staff that keeps insisting on feeding me field rations for breakfast?

8:50 AM. After some reluctance, I eat field rations.

9:10 AM. The staff lets me out to explore. Understand, staff, I expect you to be here when I'm back. There will be none of this you being gone for hours on end and locking me outside, is that clear?

9:20 AM. Padding around in the garden, still half covered in snow. Ground's still frozen. Oh, well.

9:35 AM. On my patrols. A robin is chattering away in the trees above me. Unfortunately out of reach, or I'd have myself a nice morning snack. Yes, well, you should have delayed your return for a week. Don't give me that kind of attitude!

9:47 AM. Coming across a puddle of meltwater. I look around at it, judging its depth. Would it make more sense to go around, go through, or just turn around and go home?

9:48 AM. Testing the water with a paw. Dear Isis, that's cold!

9:50 AM. I think I'll just go back home and order the staff around.

10:05 AM. Well, hello there, staff. I approve of the fact that you didn't leave without my permission.

10:10 AM. The staff is having tea. I stare at her intently. She gives in and pours some of it onto the saucer. I start lapping it up. Some good hot Earl Grey always hits the spot. It would go even better with liver cookies, but for some strange reason you don't bake those.

1:10 PM. Waking up from nap. Big stretch. Feeling nicely rested. Where would the staff be? I seek attention.

1:11 PM. I find the staff in the den doing some reading. Naturally I must take the most convenient place in the house. Despite the fact that it'll end her reading time.

1:12 PM. Have gotten up onto the staff's lap and have succeeded in covering over her book. She tut-tuts in annoyance. I respond by rolling over onto my back and purring. She can never resist my purrs.

1:13 PM. The staff is giving me a belly rub. Perfect. I can bend you to my will every time.

2:05 PM. The staff finally sets me on the floor. Hey, wait a minute, I didn't give you permission to do that!

2:20 PM. Watching the staff do some baking. Checking her cookbook on the table. Carrot cake? Oh, I like carrot cake.

Staff, clearly you require supervision. I volunteer. In return, I expect the first helping of carrot cake.

2:45 PM. The staff continues to bake. I continue to supervise. She's in a downtime right now, and is helping herself to some of that Easter chocolate.

I must say, staff, it seems perplexing to this cat to try to understand what rabbits have to do with Easter.

And why on Earth won't you let me have some of that chocolate? Don't give me that look and tell me it's not good for me!

2:50 PM. The staff tells me that chocolate can be as good as sex, if not better. Yes, well, I've seen some of your previous mistakes in regards to taste of men, so that goes without saying.

2:55 PM. I wonder if I was a dog, would she give me chocolate? Oh, what am I saying? Why would I ever want to be such a low form of life?

3:10 PM. The staff and I have pieces of warm carrot cake. You know, you didn't need to break it up for me. And where's the icing? There's supposed to be icing.

7:05 PM. Having dinner with the staff. She tends to be much better in the evenings than breakfast. I get chunks of beef with milk on the side. Quite tasty, staff.

11:10 PM. The staff is off to bed. Already? She says she has work tomorrow. 

You know, I resent the fact that this work thing takes you away from your primary function in life: catering to my every whim.