Archive for August, 2010

Vin Diesel to Run for Mayor of Wasaga Beach

Friday, August 27th, 2010

Fueled by speculation that the bombastic Rob Ford might actually win the Toronto mayoral race, another unlikely political maverick has entered the fray, however; not in Toronto but in a distant Ontario municipality familiar to all drunken Southern Ontario teens. Indeed,  Hollywood star Vin Diesel (born Mark Sinclair Vincent; July 18, 1967) has decided to run for Mayor in the small beachside party community of Wasaga Beach.

When asked what qualifications the muscled star of such acclaimed films as XXX and Pitch Black had for the job, the swarthy man-mountain gave a lengthy and aggressive reply: “Being biracial and of ambiguous ethnicity I can relate to the fabric of Wasaga society. I am down with Woodbridge and I am down with Scarborough. I have tats and I have a shaved head. I wear sleeveless shirts that were actually manufactured to be sleeveless unlike that Wasaga local honky jerkoff who’s running for mayor against me Jim Peters, with those cutoff Harley shirts and that skullet hairdo.”

Continued the bemuscled bald behemoth, “I cut my teeth workin’ the door at Klub Kollapze in NYC. I know what it is like to have power over people. Bouncin’ is a very good training method for politics. You let some people in, some people get tossed out…you know?  I have learned to harness power by driving souped-up Civics on the set of Fast and Furious at speeds in excess of 80mph and working out at my local gym at least seven hour a day, daily…every day. Who wouldn’t want a mayor who has experience bouncin’, flexin’ and doin’ burnouts in suburban donut shop parking lots?”

When queried as to how he plans to do things differently, Vincenzo replied, “City council meetings won’t be ‘free for all’s’ and they will end promptly when they suppose’to cause I will throw everyone out on the streets to get busy helpin’ their constituents.”

When asked what his key platform points are Diesel simply smiled and said, “The Wasaga beach economy is driven by one thing: selling Affliction, Ed Hardy and Christian Audigier graphic T shirts and sleeveless designer t-shirts. With my celebrity presence I can assure you sales will go up thus bringing in needed tax dollars to fund my local projects such as ‘CatLand’, the 3 million dollar community center I plan to build where families can come together and bring their cats for fun and constructive activities.”

Mayoral rival Jim Peters, who has lived in Wasaga Beach his entire life, was visited by TTT reporters in his campaign headquarters (his elderly mother’s 1994 Dodge Caravan). When asked if he was concerned about Vin Diesels’ entrance into the race, Jim Peters gave his signature toothless smile, asked for a smoke and then launched into a 25 minute-long diatribe about how the hairmetal band Helix is better than April Wine.

The seventeen permanent residents of Wasaga actually eligible to vote were reportedly up until now unaware of Vin Diesel – either as an actor or a politician – but early polling indicates that they will vote him into the Mayor’s office unanimously…lest any one of these elderly WASPs encounter him in-person on the street and are forced to explain their voting “for the other guy” at fist-point.

Fueled by speculation that Rob Ford might actually win the Toronto mayoral race Hollywood star Vin Diesel (born Mark Sinclair Vincent; July 18, 1967) has decided to run for Mayor in the small beachside party community of Wasaga Beach. When asked what qualifications the muscled star of such acclaimed films as XXX and Pitch Black had for the job he gave a lengthy and aggressive reply “Being biracial and of ambiguous ethnicity I can relate to the fabric of Wasaga society. I am down with Woodbridge and I am down with Scarborough. I have tats and I have a shaved head. I wear sleeveless shirts that were actually manufactured to be sleeveless unlike that Wasaga local honky jerkoff running against me Jim Peters with those cutoff Harley shirts and that skullet hairdo (*his mayoral rival). I cut my teeth working the door at Klub Kollapze in NYC. I know what it is like to have power over people. Bouncin’ is a very good training method for politics. You let some people in, some people get tossed out, and you deal…you know? You know? I have learned to harness power by driving souped up civics on the set of Fast and Furious and working out at my local gym. Who wouldn’t want a mayor who has experience bouncin, flexin and doing burnouts in shitty suburban donut shop parking lots? City council meetings won’t be free for alls and they will end promptly when they supposed to cause I will throw everyone out to the streets to help their constituents.”

When asked what his key platform points are Diesel simply smiled and said, “The Wasaga beach economy is driven by one thing…selling Affliction, Ed Hardy and Christian Audigier graphic T shirts and sleeveless designer t shirts. With my celebrity presence I can assure you sales will go up thus bringing in needed tax dollars to fund my local projects such as ‘CatLand’, the 3 million dollar community center I plan to build where families can come together and bring their cats for fun and constructive activities.”

Mayoral rival Jim Peters, who has lived in Wasaga Beach his entire life, was visited by TTT reporters in his campaign headquarters (his elderly mothers 1994 Dodge caravan). When asked if he was concerned about Vin Diesels entrance in the race Jim Peters gave his signature toothless smile, asked for a smoke and then talked for 25 minutes about how Helix is better than April Wine.

Another Ultra-Depressing “Precious” Type Movie To Premier

Sunday, August 15th, 2010

Indie (“independent” …God, get with it!) movie fans are anxiously awaiting the premiere of a new movie that addresses difficult and often-taboo issues such as obesity, poverty and sexual abuse just as the film Precious (based on the novel “Push,” by Sapphire) did. Always keen voyeurs upon “how the other half lives,” these beret-wearing dandies are literally wearing out their weak wrists wringing their delicate hands in restiveness, yearning to finally learn whether the new film will deeply arouse their short-lived, bourgeois feelings of compassion as much as Precious (based on the novel “Push,” by Sapphire) did.

Entitled Pretty and based on the novel “Eat,” by Rubiez, the film documents a 500 lb. man’s struggles with color-blindness and sexual abuse at the hands of his 89 year old grandmother. Just as the mistreated cube van in Precious (based on the novel “Push,” by Sapphire) sought relief  from her miserable life through over-eating, so too does the molested hatchback in Pretty (based on the novel “Eat,” by Rubiez) escape by gorgeing himself at the Waffle House daily (the film is set in Alabama). And just as the abused baby whale  in Precious (based on the novel “Push,” by Sapphire) struggles to come to grips with the incestuous abuse suffered at the hands of her father, so too does the victimized rhino in Pretty (based on the novel “Eat,” by Rubiez) try to overcome chronic come-on’s and gropings at the hands of his octogenarian grandmother.

The similarities between the films start to run out at this point though. While the heartbreaking butterball in Precious (based on the novel “Push,” by Sapphire) learns that she is HIV-positive, courtesy of her father, the pitiable pork tenderloin in Pretty (based on the novel “Eat,” by Rubiez) suffers only a painful hangnail on his big toe when he trips running out of the family mobile home, in a desperate attempt to escape the amorous advances of his grandmother (he first destroys her deep-fryer).

The movie has so far fallen flat at initial pre-release festival screenings, failing to garner even the genre’s version of an “honorable mention” (the   “Comb-over” at Sundance or the “Parasol” at Cannes). Said one critic, “How am I suppose to eat popcorn while watching that? The guy was disgusting. I don’t care if your grandma grabbed your junk: try a salad! Christ…”

Oddly enough, the film did win an “Iron Cross with Oak Leaf Cluster” at an obscure rural Argentinian festival. “Ich found diese movie-film seemply high-larious!” said the presiding critic, Hans Hauter. “Wunderbar schadenfreude!”

Rogers & Air Canada Vie for Canada’s Most Loathed Company Award

Tuesday, August 10th, 2010

The prestigious Most Loathed Company in Canada (MLCiC) Awards makes its debut in Canada from a US incarnation for the first time this year and sources say that Rogers and Air Canada are thought to be neck and neck for the top honour. Indeed, execs at both companies are anxious to see their organization win the coveted “Skilling,” the gold trophy that bears an exact likeness to the Oscar Statuette…if the Oscar featured a man flipping everyone the bird while playing with himself.

The award was named in honor of ex-CEO Jeff Skilling of Enron fame – an incontestable virtuoso at the art form of corporate loathing. Past recipients include the CEO of Moody’s (the rating agency: in recognition of his organization’s contribution to the sub-prime mortgage bond mess ["AAA safe!"] and subsequent Great Recession), the CEO of GM (during one model year focus groups unanimously agreed that even a Kia was aesthetically preferable) and – most recently for 2010 – Tony Hayward of BP (in celebration of the fact that your Uncle`s chlorine-drenched, above-ground pool now plays home to a more diverse selection of aquatic life than the entire Gulf of Mexico).

Yet, though the two favorites have been chosen, odds are tight as to who will emerge victorious in the end as the most loathsome public company in Canada (the competition would be plagued by home renovation contractors if private firms were admitted). To some, Air Canada is the clear champion. As a sneering PR spokesman from the monolith explained: “Canadians know that when they want to feel truly unappreciated as a consumer, there is only one company to turn to. We teach our staff to be downright surly over the course of a three week training program run by ex-US Marine Corps sergeants.  We eradicate any stubborn remnants of  one`s innate compassion for his or her common man by cutting salaries 20% and repeating this tactic until our employees resemble a poorly-paid, discontented  rabble, on par in hostility with the disbanded Sunni Baathist ex-Iraqi Army forces. And then we put on our thinking caps: You think all those pens have been stolen near immigration by accident? You think Pearson makes you walk 45 minutes to baggage when you deplane?? That`s us, bitches! F*ck you!!“

A Rogers Communications Inc. PR spokesman remained unfazed in the face of the air carrier`s unbridled optimism regarding the competition. Said the flack, “You call that a monopoly? Please. You want the latest iPhone? You come to US. You want the latest BlackBerry? You come to US. Shaw? Bell? Don’t make us laugh. You might as well grab a Motorola flip-phone and browse the channels you get on your bunny ears. We own you. And you will wait on hold on the phone as LONG AS WE F*CKING SAY. In fact, you owe me three-fitty in user`s fees for this very EXPLANATION, muthaFUC*A!”

While Canadians burnt particularly bad by one or the other of the two have their minds made up, handicappers have yet to make the odds. Handicapped handicapper Joe Rosaro, from his wheelchair on the CasinoRama sports betting floor where wagers on the titanic rivalry will eventually be made, elucidated further: “Sure Air Canada is made up of a bunch of a*sholes. Certainly! I once stood in a line for three hours only to realize that at the end of it there were no terminal employees cuttin’ tickets or  takin’ baggage. Not’a one! But Rogers hires new immigrants who can barely speak English into its call centres for Christ’s sake! Talk about frustrating. On the other hand our tax dollars continually subsidize AC, who not only treat us like dog sh*t but can’t seem to turn a profit to save their lives despite massive governmental protectionism in regard to closed routes for competitors. This is a serious toss-up!“

The  MLCiC Award ceremony is slated to take place in  a Regina, Sasketchewan community centre to better reflect the bleak, disconsolate feeling most every customer has whenever forced to deal with either company. Nelly Furtado has once again been booked to play non-stop.

Irritated Emailer Finds and Kills Mailer Daemon

Friday, August 6th, 2010

Anyone who has ever sent a mail merge (a single email sent en masse to many recipients) has observed that a number of the emails are typically devoured by the “mailer daemon.” Conjecture abounds as to the origin and location of the daemon as do theories as to why it feeds on emails. One of the more subscribed to theories supposes that the daemon became entrapped against its will in some subterranean server room, unable to feed on souls or babies and thus forced to subsist in desperation upon emails as it unendingly tries to open the steel door from the inside but is foiled by its clumsy, talon-bedecked hands.  Most are certain that the daemon resembles a gargoyle or Dick Cheney (or some hybrid creature bearing a likeness to both).

Interestingly, the daemon is kind enough to always notify the mass email sender that certain of his or her emails have been ingested as food and that, the message having been eaten, the intended recipient is woefully unaware of whatever information he or she was to have received. Most resign themselves to the fact that the mailer daemon will always eat its fill of a half-a-dozen or so of the emails out of the many included in their mail merge, as did Gavin Kalrossie, a marketing hack from a low-rent technology company. Until last week.

Said Gavin,  “I was sick to death of that daemon eating outta my emails. I need those people to know about BizSuccess.com and the fact that they can double – or even triple – their sales with our patented, turnkey system. I wanted all my prospects to get this important message. All’a them! And every week, here come that daemon, gobblin’ up five or ten of my emails. Just eatin’ em right up! They weren’t meant for his dinner! They were meant for them there people dat ownsed dem emails!”

Finally, after dipping into Gavin’s mail merges for a tasty meal time and again the daemon went ahead and helped itself to a whopping 24 emails last week. This was to Gavin the last straw and he took it upon himself to track down and destroy the daemon.

“I knew from Ghostbusters II that the daemon was either making goo in the sewer, hauntin’ a church or livin’ in the creepiest painting a museum’s gotsts,” said Gavin. After being banned from the AGO for vandalizing a particularly somber landscape piece with a penknife as well as frightening other patrons by shouting directly at the painting, “come out and fight, ” Gavin struck paydirt. Continued Gavin: “I realized that there was a Rogers server room right nexta’ this old church that meh oma used to pretend to be going to mass at while she was having an affair on meh opa. So I went inside and found that daemon.”

Gavin is now in custody and awaiting trial for the second degree murder of Michael Chin-Lee, a 32 year old Rogers IT technician with a lazy eye, a strange haircut and a peculiar gait.

“That daemon begged for its life but I gave it two in the head and one in the chest. Got-damn it was frightening!” recounted Gavin.

Concluded Gavin contentedly from behind his cell bars: “But at least now he won’t be eatin’ anymore a’my emails.”

Wiggers Temporarily Ruin Caribana

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

The Toronto Caribana festival – the largest Caribbean culture celebration in North America and now in its 43rd year (we’ll do the math for you: the first one was in 1967)  – that took place downtown last weekend was marred for several hours by the surprise arrival of several hundred “wiggers.” Wigger – a white n-word – was a common malady in the mid-to-late 1990s and a hilarious if somewhat pathetic consequence of the explosive popularity of rap music.

Indeed, the average North American suburban high school use to be awash in well-off white kids conversing in ebonics, wearing FuBu with no belt, intimating a (non-existent) familiarity with hard drugs and firearms, and generally trying to act like hard-cases but effectively behaving like morons. Some called it a harmless fad and the result of rock & roll being perceived as profoundly uncool since it remains the musical taste of baby boomer parents, others a crisis of identity in a post-modern world; in either case, as gangsta rap became passe and less in-your-face rappers such as Kanye West came to the fore and began to define the rap genre, the wigger phenonmeon largely died out – or so it seemed.

Shawonda Williams, a young black woman who actually descends from Jamaica (as opposed to having spent a week there via cruise ship), has this to say: “I came down for the music and some jerk chicken and before I know it – BAM – there’s all ‘a these gangsta-wannabe lookin’ motherf*ckers there! Movin’ their hands around all strangely – tryin’ to throw gang signs I suppose but they clearly were just makin’ em up – yellin’ brups [an ebonical greeting, celebratory sound, or mating call], runnin’ wild-  just causin’ all sortsa trouble!”

Growing agitated even just remembering her ordeal, Shawonda continued, “One’a them lily white posers had the nerve to brup right in my face! Two inches away!! I layed him out on the pavement cryin’ and the rest’a his friends just run off scared. Thing is, there were too many fur me to get on my’own! The one I hit got on his cell and a few minutes later I seen some white lady in a Volvo pickin’ him up. “

While the event was welcoming of all races, colors and creeds as it always is, and hardly “closed” to those not of Caribbean ancestry, the several hundred impromptu breakdancin’ and hand-in-shape-of-pistol waving wiggers effectively brought the fun to an end for a number of hours.

One red-headed boy with freckles clad entirely in XXXL forest-green camouflage polyester climbed onto the main stage and started fornicating a steel drum. When finally apprehended by the police, the boy uttered sincerely, “I’m just keepin’ it real, y’all. I gotsts to be ME.”

Another was trampled to death by a police officer riding a riot-control horse after he refused to get out of the officer’s way, yelling, “Don’t start none; won’t be none.” (Witnesses claim he was yelling this at the horse, not the officer.)

Many of the attendees managed to grab a wigger or two, but only momentarily. Said one, “That confused cracker musta had four tshirts one, right on top’a one’another!”

Then, just as quickly as they had arrived, the wiggers vanished. Some say they saw a number of luxury coach buses with A/C of the kind usually chartered by private schools leaving the scene. Others drew the conclusion that a new episode of “Cribs” was starting on MTV.

Whatever the cause of their momentary arrival, the bizarre incident left a lasting impression on all the Caribana attendees.

“I grew up in Regent Park,” said one, “and that was the scariest damn thing I ever seen.”


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