To The Commenter Known As “Superman”

Superman:

There is nothing wrong with US President George Bush and Canadian Prime Minster Stephen Harper enjoying the benefit of each other’s companies…and military-industrial complexes.

We’ll never know what kind of strange conversations they have behind steel-reinforced doors, and what we don’t know obviously can’t hurt us.

However, what we do know is Mr. Bush refers to Mr. Harper as “Steve.” Nobody on the planet refers to Stephen Harper as “Steve.” Not publicly, at least. Even the Queen of England calls him Stephen.

I believe Mr. Bush shouldn’t call him Stephen…even when Stephen is wearing his zip-up “outside” vest.

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

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Dear Ham Chedley

My local Rogers has a porno section now! The
convinience! I can rent hardcore porn at the same time
as regular movies and videogames. I don’t need to
leave my house ever again, except to go to and from
the video store. Someone should have thought of this
several years ago.

—Ham Chedley

Dear Ham Chedley

Porno eh? The idea of walking up to the Rogers counter with Gang Bang Sluts 9 or Barely Legal #87 and casually handing it to the clerk named “Troy” or “Lisa : assistant manager” doesn’t seem appealing to me. I can imagine the customers behind in line are clutching their precious copy of The Lake House or whatever along with their kids, while the pervert ahead of them is renting some Dom/Sub whack-off shit. I’m not saying that would be you either. I’m talking about the average suburban family man who will slip said filth into their Lake House-type family movies.

“No, I’m not going to bed honey, I’ve got a lot of work to finish before I can sleep,” says Joseph Family-pants.

“Okay,” says Wifey Family-pants, who learned a long-time ago to not question her Familly-pants husband.

He starts loving really freaky shit. He writes letters and sends gifts to his favourite porn starlets. He rents movies every night. He obsesses over destruction of the rental slips, lest  they fall into the clutches of his massive family and reveal his expanding X-rated tastes. Eventually he succumbs to Porno Madness and leaves his family for a cabin in the hills where he can masturbate constantly. Of course, the video store clerks have seen the tragedy in every phase since the beginning. I doubt Rogers has psychological counselling for the video clerks factored into the franchise operating budget. Nevertheless, I think it is sweet the Rogers rents hardcore.

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

A Valentine Message to My Special Someone (Who May Be a Zombie)

I’m not sure how to say this…but I think we need to take a look at our relationship. Valentine’s Day is probably not the best time to sort out our issues but after last night I don’t think I can go on. My family doctor insisted on it actually.

Did you know a bite from a human is extremely dirty? People’s mouths are filled with germs. A bite from a person is likely to become infected if not treated right away. I’ve needed to learn these sorts of things after I started dating you.

It’s weird, but I seem to find large portions of my flesh missing from my body when I wake up in the morning after we’ve gone out drinking.  It hurts to take off and put on clothes when there is open wounds on your arms and chest.

Another thing: I used feel flattered at your continuous mention of my intellect. You’d always be talking about my “brains…brains” while you gnawed on my neck. I’m not that smart. But I’m smart enough to know when to end it.

We had some good times,

Fergis T. McGillcuddy

PS: My buddy Johan really digged your style. Do you want me to give him your number?

Dear 2007

Hey good lookin’,

It was funny of you to lock me up in a poorly-lit room and force me to sleep nearly 23 hours a day. I don’t hold it against you. There is nothing like ringing in a fresh year with a 16 day hibernation. When I woke up I recalled the start of 2006…apparently I made notes:

Annotated Predictions for 2006:

1. Sale of post-Apocalyptic goggles increases.

My sources tell me this is true. It makes sense…nobody wants to get Mad Max-sand in their eyes while they are trading handjobs for water.

2. George W. sprouts horns and a tail in front of the Washington press Corp. The White House turns red.

Well…George had a rough year. On Jan. 11, 2007 he said the best way to get troops out of Iraq was to order another 21,500 in to Iraq. The he sprouted horns and a tail and spat fireballs at the Washington journalists. However, that was in 2007…so it doesn’t count.

3. Another season of Survivor goes unnoticed.

Is Survivor even on television anymore?

4. Dr. Phil is charged with having sex with a goat.

Is Dr. Phil even on television anymore?

5. That goat is Michael Jackson.

What Dr. Phil and Michael Jackson do with each other under the influence of Pinot Noir and pretty sunsets is their business as far as the public is concerned.

6. China lands on the moon and immediately sets up the first sweatshop in space. It makes American flags.

Turns out the first sweatshop in space makes zero-gravity Mardi Gras beads.

7. I run as a Green party candidate in the next Canadian federal election. The next election will be called as soon as the results of the last election (Jan.23) are returned. I lose to a Conservative moose named Curtis Taxless.

So far—no election. Conservative moose have heavily fortified their interests during incumbency. My chances of election are bleak.

8. Google will start a micronation in the South Pacific. They threaten to remove their search engine from the web unless the UN recognizes their sovereignty. Google-opia is born as Kofi Annan is an avid gmail user.

Sadly YouTube got to it first. It’s pixelated and sort of boring to watch…unless a person is at work.

9. This is the best post of the year.

There were a couple good ones. I like the one about Finola Hackett. She’s spell-tastic.

10. A new style of hat is invented called the trout-stick.

I invented this. I wear it around the house. The prototype needs some work.

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

To the Quiet Broken Fridge

Soon our time will be over. Today, someone suggested I carry you out of here by myself. I politely explained it would too great a task and I would need help. Then I said, “I’ll only be able to do it is if it is in parts.”

I was serious. There is a hammer in the hallway.

The kitchen looks like you vomited all over it. There is a crummy feeling where the good used to be. Everything went bad when you walked away from our relationship. The kitchen stinks and I think you are a douche bag. Ruiner!

I’ll never trust your kind ever again. I should have known better. It’s not like your type hasn’t given up on me before. I naively thought you were better than that. I naively thought you were committed.

Though I hate to admit it, I’m finding it extremely difficult to live without you in my life. But don’t think for a minute that I can’t manage to survive without you. The bitter taste of your betrayal keeps me going.

Sooner or later I’m going to need to eat. That will force me to clean the kitchen…I’ll feel bad all over.

Why?! Why have you done this to me?

Sincerely,

Fergis

PS: I wish I could quit you.

Dear Britney Spears’ Crotch

You’ve been hanging out lately. That’s cool I guess. I hang out when I’m at home. It’s no big deal though. I don’t have photographers trying to snap pictures of me exiting vehicles. Plus, I don’t normally wear skirts out in pubic. Uh…I mean public.

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

PS: Tell the rest of your body to go easy on the post-natal Mojitos.