Sorry this is late, kids. I’m in the Canadian wilderness on a 56K dial-up with a dodgy cellphone signal to boot – and I’m loving it more than if I’d just watched Justin Timberlake choke on an errant McMuffin. Being ‘connected’ on vacation defeats the purpose. So I’m going to wrap this up quickly so I can get back to the real motivation behind any well-deserved holiday – helping my father drywall the basement. Besides, a mink will probably break wind and interrupt this connection – so let’s just get on with it.
Appetizer: Where do you plan to go on vacation this year?
I’m already here, baby. My parent’s new digs in Portland, Ontario Canada. I’m up here with my sister and my buddy Jim, and we’re having a Flinstone-gay old time. Tonight is the boat jamboree where all the neighbors meet in a nearby cove, hook up their brightly-decorated bateaus and then drink their faces off like upper-middle class pirates. My father has fashioned a huge maple leaf out of Christmas lights and a corrogated steel pipe and attached it to the front of our vessel, “The Filthy Whooore”. Gaudy, gaudy patriotism. Brings a tear to the eye and a verp to the throat.
Soup: What color is your bedroom? What would you change?
It’s the multiple colors of many frayed movie and concert posters. I’ve been in the same apartment for the last 6 years, and DeNiro’s face just doesn’t hold the same decorative charm that it did when I was 25. I’m days away from ripping them all down and bringing my bedroom kicking and screaming into the fact I’m now in my thirties, and that the fastest way to woman’s heart is not actually through a fraternity house basement.
Salad: Do you have a bumper sticker on your vehicle? What does it say?
I covered the loathesome stickery topic only recently, and will definitely defer. Deferring…. now.
Main Course: What’s the worst pain you’ve ever been in?
I broke my leg whilst playing basketball at a keg party in 1992 and then had to have my bones reattached via a metal plate and 5 pins. So I didn’t really have to think about this one too long. It’s a funny story which I’ll get around to telling properly someday. Must press on, as I’ve just spotted a gassy mink through the bay window.
Dessert: Who is your favorite celebrity and why?
Dean Martin. His singing voice was matched only by his acting ability and incredible sense of humor. Unbeknownst to most, he wasn’t actually a booze-bag – his drunken persona was a big part of his charm and he milked it for all it was worth. When Frank and Sammy were howling at the moon, Dean had usually already been in bed for hours. Anyhew, back to the labor – Happy 4th of July, everyone, if I don’t get a chance to check in again. P.S. – R.I.P. Luther.
wannabe_ceo
funny blog. I just came from Canada myself
Dave Pye
Glad you like the blog, but how do you feel about Canada? I sincerely hope you weren’t asked to leave.