Monday, September 1, 2014

A Day In The Life Of A Drunkard Idiot Mayor

Some links before I get myself started. Yesterday having had been a Sunday, we had a Snippet Sunday post at the joint blog.The Whisk had this cartoon. Christine posted an overview review of her river cruise in Europe at her page. Lorelei started a new blog. And click on the photoblog kitty to the right; today's the first day of the month, and that means it's a theme day for City Daily Photo.

Now then, onto the mischief at hand, and once again I turn my attention to the loathsome voice of the worst mayor in the history of the world, one Rob "Tweedledum" Ford. My thainks to Norma, who gave me the idea for the nicknames for the Brothers Ford, and to Collin, who came up with one of the memes.


9:55 AM. Waking up at home. Damn. Hangover. Gotta do somethin’ ‘bout that. Can’t go all day with a ****in’ hangover, after all. Had a weird dream. Someone was callin’ me and Dougie a bad excuse for supervillains. They called us Crackman and Dumbass. Musta been one of those left wing liberal commie hippies. When I take over the world, I’m gonna have all those ****ers shot on sight.


10:10 AM. Garglin’ with vodka. That’s just the trick for takin’ care of hangovers. Big day ahead. Gotta lotta campaignin’ left to do. Ford more years! Yeah!


10:45 AM. Dougie turns up at the house. Hey, Dougie, time to get out there and start campaignin’, right? What’s that look on your face about, Dougie? 


10:47 AM. Dougie tells me my SUV was found near the Humber River, smashed into a post. Not the Robmobile! Geez, how’d that happen? Somebody stole the Robmobile??? Dougie, we gotta find out who it was. Somebody from the Beach. Yeah, a left wing pinko granola eatin’ hippie that just wants to make my life miserable... wait a minute, what? Whaddya mean I gotta ****in’ bruise?


10:48 AM. Looking at myself in the mirror. How the **** did that happen? Where’d I get a black eye? Was I in a fight last night? Geez, we gonna have to deal with yet another released video of me startin’ a fight or threatenin’ somebody? I thought we were searchin’ the pockets of all our buddies to make sure they’re not carryin’ cameras!


10:49 AM. Dougie finds my car keys. Wait a ****in’ minute... how can they be here if somebody stole the ****in’ Robmobile and drove it into a post?


10:51 AM. Oh, ****. *****in’ ****ity **** ****er!! You mean to say I drove the Robmobile into that post, Dougie? Well come on! I can’t remember what I ****in’ did last night, I was totally ****in’ blitzed! And if I can’t ****in’ remember, then by definition, I can’t be held accountable for it, right? By the way, Dougie, what’s accountable mean?


11:05 AM. Dougie and I are goin’ over our strategy for how to deal with this whole thing. The press are outside just waitin’ for us to come out. I got it, Dougie. I got it. We’re gonna tell those stupid ****ers that ****in’ raccoons stole the Robmobile. Yeah, that’ll do it. Everybody ****in’ hates ****in’ raccoons, so they’ll buy into it. And even if they don’t, well **** ‘em. You hear me, brother? **** ‘em!!


11:15 AM. We come outside. Those ****in’ vultures in the ****’in media are already askin’ ****in’ questions. Buncha ****ers! Hate the ****ers! Hate ‘em


11:17 AM. Launchin’ Operation Blame The Raccoons. Stressin’ that I want every raccoon in the ****in’ city hunted down and kicked outta the city once and for all. Buncha snivelling little ****ers... where do they get off tellin’ me what to ****in’ do? Wastin’ city time and resources with their complaints and whinin’ and... one of those ****in’ reporters asks if I know what a raccoon actually is. Hey! Shut the **** up, mother****er!


11:19 AM. One of those ****in’ vultures is askin’ if I think anyone should take me seriously when I blame this on raccoons. Then he asks where I got the black eye. Not gonna answer the ****er. That ****er works for the Star, and I gotta serious mad-on for those ****ers after they refused to endorse me for mayor! How dare they?


11:20 AM. The ****ers keep askin’ more questions. Hey, shut the ****up! I’m done! Get the **** outta my way! Dougie and me, we’re gonna go to work! Lotsa campaignin’ to do, and when we’re done and we win again, man, are we gonna get even with every single last one of you ****ers.


11:21 AM. Out the driveway in Doug’s car. How long do you think before we get the Robmobile back up and running, Dougie? And more important, you think they found the hiding spaces where we stash the booze and crack?


12:05 PM. In my office, easin’ my tense mind by smokin’ crack and drinkin’ vodka. Yeah, man, this is the life.


12:35 PM. Walkin’ outta the office. Got one of those ****in’ speeches to make. Head out, shake some hands, say the right things. Ford Nation loves me, man! ****in’ Ford Nation will believe anything I say. Buncha stupid ****ers.


12:37 PM. Run into some cops on my way out. They say they wanna talk to me ‘bout my busted up car. Hey, talk to my ****in’ lawyer, ****wads! I ain’t got no time, mother****ers!


1:15 PM. Stumble on stage at my campaign event. Laugh it off as if it was just a blunder. Hello, Ford Nation! Great to see you ****ers all out for me today! ****, yeah! We’re gonna win it, mother****ers! And we’re gonna get even with every single one of those ****in’ pinko commie left wing liberals from the Beach! Scorched earth, baby!


1:17 PM. Dougie tells me two things. First, the media are filmin’ me. Second, I’m givin’ a speech at a retirement home, and the retired people don’t like my foul mouth. Well, hell, **** ‘em if they can’t take a joke. You hear me, you senile old ****ers? **** you!


4:55 PM. My retirement home speech has gone viral. Whatever the **** viral means. Dougie and I are in the office, talkin’ about how ****ed up this ****in’ day has gotten. Look, it’s real simple, Dougie, we just say that I’ve had a bad day, all those ****in’ reporters on my case all the ****in’ day is gettin’ to me, and I had one little drink. But that’s all in the past, sorry, nothin’ I can do about it, but what’s important now is movin’ ahead for the sake of the city, subway subway gravy train. How’s that sound to you, brother?


5:40 PM. Sit down chat with that piece of **** Warmington. Stupid spineless ****er can always be counted on to treat me with kid gloves and write me up good in the Sun no matter how much I abuse the stupid ****er. Hey, Joe, yeah, it’s been a bad day. How the **** have you been?


5:45 PM. Chattin’ with Joe about raccoons, about their conspiracy to take me down. Yeah, that’s right, those ****in’ rodents are all out to get me. They’re in on it with the left wing liberal kooks, the media, the Pope, the King of Spain, the Queen, the leprechauns, the cops, Santa, and the Jolly Green Giant. Every last one of those ****ers hates me, and you know what? I’m not the problem! They are! Buncha stupid ****ers.


5:47 PM. I tell Joe that I’m really sorry I got all bent outta shape earlier on. I was havin’ a bad day, and I slipped, okay? I gave into temptation and had a drink. Just one drink, though, man. I don’t mention that the one drink, in fact, was lots of drinks. And probably better not to mention the ****in’ crack. You know, I’m sorry, but that’s all in the past, and we got real work to ****in’ do, gotta move forward, subway gravy subway train, billion dollars saved, guaranteed, folks, one hundred percent.


6:05 PM. Back in my office with Dougie. It seems I’m on the news again. I don’t really understand why, mind you. Don’t those stupid ****ers have anything better to do with their ****in’ time than make me look bad? It’s a conspiracy, Dougie! They’re all out to get us! Every last one of those stupid mother****ers. They’re all in on it!


7:35 PM. Dougie and I are smokin’ crack and tryin’ to settle down. Crack is my happy place. Crack keeps me calm, man, and anyone who says different, well I’ll ****in’ rip their ****in’ throat out like the ****ers they are! **** you!


10:40 PM. Back home. Dougie and me, we’re sittin’ in the backyard. Don’t wanna go inside and spend any time with the ****in’ ball and chain or those ****in’ kids. Smokin’ crack, drinkin’ booze. Yeah, man. Nothin’ better than this in the world, guaranteed, brother.


11:05 PM. Jesus! Dougie! It’s those ****in’ raccoons in the ****in’ yard! They’re glarin’ at us! They’re gonna attack us, man! **** off! You hear me? **** the **** off, mother****ers!

Wait a minute... is it just me, or are all of those ****in’ masked bandits givin’ us the ****in’ finger???


Saturday, August 30, 2014

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Some links to see to before we get started on anything else. Norma had reflections on Robin Williams and on rental referrals. She also has a passage from Sam's Story. Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday yesterday. Shelly had a happy birthday for her brother. Lorelei wrote about her birthday. And Krisztina had a photo of the week.

Now then, time to turn my attention to the feline point of view...


7:30 AM. Awakening in bed. The staff is showering in the bathroom. How did she get out of bed without waking me?


7:32 AM. Heading downstairs. Turning on television. Weather Channel suggests thunderstorms moving through this area later in the day. Well, that's not good. It could be worse though. Just as long as I'm not outside while it's raining.


7:35 AM. Off goes the television. I find weather people to be tedious paranoid creatures at best. They seem to panic at the first sign of snow and suggest people start thinking of eating the dead.


7:45 AM. Well, staff, it's about time you showed up down here. Breakfast time, and let's make it snappy.


7:47 AM. The staff disappoints me by offering up field rations. I sigh with much dismay, and demand to be let outside.


8:30 AM. Sitting in the backyard, staring at the sky, pondering the meaning of cat toys. Do they serve any other purpose aside from something for me to destroy?


8:51 AM. Oh, great, it's that stupid annoying mutt from down the road passing by through my forest.


8:52 AM. The stupid mutt mentions something about Nixon going to China. What an idiot. It is a fundamental truth: all cats know that Nixon can't be trusted. The man was a dog person, after all.


8:53 AM. I hiss and yowl my displeasure with the presence of the dog. This time the idiot takes a hint and leaves. Stupid dog.


8:56 AM. I demand the staff let me back inside.


9:05 AM. After much internal debate, I decide to eat some of the field rations.


11:05 AM. Woken out of my nap by a thunderous roar. What was that????


11:06 AM. Looking outside. Lightning. Walls of rain. Thunder sounding all over the place.

I'm so glad I'm not outside right now.


11:15 AM. I find the staff looking out the kitchen windows. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd think she was enjoying this kind of weather.

The staff notices me and asks if I think that lightning is fun.

She is enjoying this. Humans are weird.


11:20 AM. A thunderclap that's louder than any I've heard already booms. Hey! Storm! How dare you interrupt my morning nap!


11:40 AM. Spending my time lying by the fireplace. Listening to the thunder. I bet that annoying mutt is cowering in his basement right about now.


12:15 PM. The storm continues. I wonder if we're going to lose power.


1:20 PM. Oh, come on already! That storm is denying me the quiet I need for my afternoon nap.


2:35 PM. Running out of ways to kill time waiting for the thunder to end. I've already gone through 99 Cans Of Tuna On The Wall twice.


5:55 PM. The thunderstorm finally seems to be at an end. Things are more quiet. 

I've been denied hours of naps, and believe me, I'm cranky about it.


6:10 PM. The staff is making dinner. Staff, I would prefer something very tasty. Something that can compensate for my utter lack of sleep all day.


6:40 PM. The staff and I settle down to dinner. She's made spaghetti and meatballs for herself. Meatballs for me, and a side of milk. Yes, this is sufficient compensation for that utter waste of a day waiting for a bit of quiet so I could nap. One thing's for sure, I'll sleep well tonight.


7:55 PM. The staff, for some reason, decides to watch a video. I debate going upstairs to sleep. 

Wait a minute, after a day with this much rain, you're watching that Noah movie?


8:45 PM. Staff, this movie is silly. Russell Crowe looks silly. Those rock creatures look silly.


9:30 PM. Furthermore, staff, what need was there in the world to put dogs on that Ark? I swear, staff, this is a cheesefest of stupidity! You and I need to have a serious discussion about your appalling taste in movies. 


11:05 PM. The staff is off to bed. I'll stay down here. I've been up too many hours. I need to sleep. Dream of chasing mice and finding the ultimate stash of catnip.