As the poem In Flanders Fields is well known, have a look over at my photoblog. I have a post yesterday about John McCrae.
Now, it's been awhile since I've featured a blog with the insufferably obnoxious voice of this blithering idiot. Rob Ford, the former mayor and still city councilor and buffoon of Toronto (honestly, are the people in his ward that stupid?) has yet to do the world a favour and stop breathing. Writing his voice is like fingernails on a blackboard.
9:45 AM. Wakin’ up. Man, bad hangover. Got totally wasted last night. Like I do every
night. Well, there’s nothin’ like the hair of the dog that bit you, right? Of
course I’m right.
9:53 AM. Guzzlin’ down some vodka. My favourite drink.
Closely followed by scotch, whiskey, beer, rum, beer, wine, moonshine...
10:37 AM. Okay, figure sooner or later I gotta get down to
that worthless City Hall and do my ****in’ job. When I’m not busy causin’ a
****in’ scene and underminin’ that ****er of a mayor. Yeah, sooner or later,
I’ll be right back in that ****in’ office as mayor, and then, there’s gonna be
hell to pay. Revenge, big time!
Against every mother****er who ever
screwed over Robbie Ford!
11:09 AM. Out the front door. Wearin’ my track suit, lookin’
like the boss. I can still get away with it, what with bein’ in “recovery.”
It’s ****in’ hilarious to take full advantage of those ****in’ idiots. Plus
hey, I look really ****in’ good in a track suit.
11:11 AM. Tearin’ down the street in the SUV. Hey, I’m good
to drive! Some people can’t handle their liquor, but I’m Rob ****in’ Ford! I
can take downin’ a whole *****in’ bottle and then gettin’ behind the ****in’
wheel!
11:43 AM. Parked the ****in’ car on a sidewalk near City
Hall. Mighta hit somethin’ on the drive in. Don’t really know, I was takin’ a
gulp from my whiskey flask when I felt a bump. Awww, who cares, it was probably
just my drunken imagination. If those stupid ****in’ cops or bylaw people want
to ticket me, I’ll have those stupid mother****ers fired, because nobody messes with Rob ****in’ Ford and
lives to see their grandchildren!
11:47 AM. Inside City Hall. Yelling at some ****in’ security
guard. Hey! **** you! You know who I am? I’m a city ****in’ councillor, jackass! And I’m gonna be the mayor again, and then I’m gonna be the prime minister, and I’ll have your
worthless ****in’ ass outta work for the rest of your ****in’ days, you hear
me?
12:05 PM. Steppin’ into the council chambers. Buncha stupid
****ers are breakin’ for lunch. Some of them give me a dirty look. Hey! ****
you! You so much as look at me like that, and that means you stupid ****ers
love cancer!
12:51 PM. Sittin’ in my office, wolfin’ down a cheese steak
sandwich and washin’ it down with some vodka. Life’s good. Nothin’ can possibly
go wrong now.
12:53 PM. Knock at the door. Quick look around just to make
sure there’s no crack on the desk.
12:54 PM. Door opens. Guy walks in flashin’ a badge. Says
something about my car being a match for one that ran down some guy this mornin’.
Hey! **** you! Look, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, mother****er, my
car got stolen last night. If you ***holes lose the report, that’s on you
stupid mother****ers, not me!
12:56 PM. The idiot cop is blatherin’ on and on about how my
car is out on the sidewalk a couple streets away, so my little story about a
stolen car doesn’t hold much weight. Hey! **** you! How do you know that thief
didn’t just leave the ****in’ car there? Get outta my ****in’ office, ***hole!
1:05 PM. Pissed off. My whole three hour lunch and drinkin’
session interrupted by that ****in’ cop. Who gives a **** about pedestrians
anyway? Said it ‘bout those ****in’ cyclists, and it applies here: my heart
bleeds for ‘em... actually, it doesn’t, because like I said, who gives a ****
about pedestrians? Anyway, my heart bleeds for ‘em, but hey, they had it comin’
when they got out on the road and decided their ****in’ safety was more
important than Rob ****in’ Ford. ‘Cause I’m more important than anyone else. Ford Nation, baby!! Yeah!
1:15 PM. Staggerin’ back into council chambers. Hey! You
stupid mother****ers started without me?
1:16 PM. The Speaker delivers some ****in’ lecture about
language and public decorum. Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, you know I won’t
listen to anything you even say and inside of five minutes I’ll be rantin’
again....
1:18 PM. In the middle of a temper tantrum yellin’ at every
single one of these mother****ers! Hey! Don’t you roll your ****in’ eyes at me!
I’m Rob ****in’ Ford, and I’m gonna be mayor again next time out and until
then, I’m ****in’ well gonna do everything in my power to screw you ****ers
over! Ford Nation wants a council that does what I say, and you stupid
mother****ers disrespect me! ****
you! And one more thing.....
3:27 PM. Waking up. Where the **** am I? Not at home... wait
a minute... am I in a jail cell?
Geez, that must’ve been one hell of a blackout.
3:38 PM. Dougie turns up outside my cell. Weird, he’s got a
black eye and a sling on his arm. Dougie! Who the **** put me in here? Did you
and me get in some fight?
3:40 PM. Dougie is tellin’ me what happened. Apparently I
got decked by a cranky Mountie named Lars Ulrich. Wait a minute, when did that
Metallica drummer join those ****in’ Mounties?
3:41 PM. Dougie explains that it seems this ****in’ Ulrich
bastard was down here in the city and that I’m the one who actually ran him
down in the street, and he’s the one who hit me while I was in the middle of a
temper tantrum in council. Well come on, Dougie, if I knew he was with Metallica, I wouldn’t have done that! And hey, if
he didn’t come out of this whole thing hurt, no harm no foul, right Dougie? By
the way, how’d you get hurt?
3:42 PM. Turns out Dougie asked that Ulrich bastard if he
was with Metallica. That ****er didn’t find it amusin’, and that’s why he looks
like the walkin’ wounded. Look, who gives a **** about a hit and run? What’s
important right now is gettin’ out on top of this whole thing and gettin’ me
out and gettin’ these ****in’ charges dropped. They can’t prove if I was behind
the wheel or not, I mean, I said the car was stolen, so **** ‘em!
8:45 PM. Finally outta this ****in’ nonsense. Dougie and my
lawyer walk me out the front door. Lots of media ****ers waitin’. A few Ford
Nation fans holdin’ signs. Dougie, where are the thousands of our fan club? Why
aren’t we bein’ mobbed by our supporters? I make a quick statement. Lie through
my teeth about some mother****er stealin’ the SUV and usin’ it to run down some
****in’ cop who once hit me before and now has hit me again. I shrug and say
that ****in’ Mountie who plays with Metallica should be charged with ****in’
assault, because look at what that ****er did to my beautiful face!
The lawyer’s busy draggin’ me away before I can put my foot
any deeper in my mouth.
9:26 PM. Back at home with Dougie and the lawyer. The ball
and chain’s put those ****in’ brats to bed. Just as well. Don’t want to see
those ****ers anyway. The lawyer’s tellin’ me I gotta stop behavin’ like I’m
behavin’ or I’m gonna end up in prison, there’s only so many times I can dodge
the consequences of my actions, and... hey! **** you! I pay you to get my ass
outta trouble, so don’t you ****in’ lecture me about my actions! Just do your
****in’ job!
11:57 PM. Lawyer’s gone. Me and Dougie are in the back yard
drinkin’ some vodka. I’m busy smokin’ crack. Yeah, Dougie, this is the life.
Smokin’ crack, gettin’ high, gettin’ drunk. And nothin’ but good days from here
on out. We’re gonna get even with that mother****er Mountie just like we’re
gonna get even with all those mother****ers on the enemy list who dare
disrespect us. I mean, the liberals and the commies and the left wingers and
the media and the granola eatin’ hippies and the judges and the Pope and the
raccoons and the police and the Queen and every
single one of them.
Geez, Dougie, is it just me, or does your chest feel like a vice right about now? Aw, ****...
whatever it is, that can’t somethin’
I’ll worry about. Let’s have ourselves a toast. To the Brothers Ford, Dougie!
May we reign forever! Ford Nation, baby!
Yeah!!!
Oh my! Sounds like he's gonna have a fatal heart attack! If he's reading this, it's almost a certainty!
ReplyDeleteThe three brothers all look alike. Their parents must believe in repeating their mistakes.
ReplyDeleteWe need to be a lot better educated about Canada in the States! This moronic family is hard to believe and harder yet to believe that any of them could be elected to any position. I was just reading an article in the latest "Harper's," titled "The Nixon of the North - How Stephen Harper Ruined Canada." I had no idea how bad things were/are and what a total asshole this guy is. You have my sympathies. But please take back Ted Cruz!
ReplyDeleteThis man is a piece of work.
ReplyDelete@Cheryl: I'm amazed the bastard has lived this long without having that long overdue fatal heart attack or stroke. When it does inevitably happen, I'll say good riddance.
ReplyDelete@Norma: stupidity runs deep in that family!
@Lowell: if not for dear ol' departed dad making money, the Ford boys would have ended up being the angry drunks at the bar griping every night about how everyone else gets ahead but them. They have absolutely no talent or skill of their own.
@Kelly: a piece of something!
Glad to see you wrote about this scumbag again. So funny to poke fun at toilet slime.
ReplyDeleteHahaha...hilarious! Thanks for the early morning chuckle!
ReplyDeleteWas wondering if the brothers would pop-up again. I didn't remember there were three.
ReplyDeleteThese are so great and yet sad at the same time.
cheers, parsnip
It's always funny to poke fun at this clown! :)
ReplyDelete