Sunday, February 24, 2013

ROBBLOG #475


On Bleeker Street with Blanche & Jane
 
The Gals are in Paris, France
 
Blanche: Jane Dear, what do you say we go to the Eiffel Tower for lunch?
 
Jane: ~puff, puff~ Can I have my fags up there?
 
Blanche: No Jane. I don’t expect they allow smoking.
 
Jane: #$^% this is France isn’t it? Didn’t they invent freekin’ smoking?
 
Blanche: No Jane. I don’t think so. You’ve been watching too many old films.
 
Jane: Sex and ciggies. I’m sure it them French dammit! ~puff, drag, puff~
 
Blanche: Isn’t it enough Jane Dear that you can light up at the outdoor cafes?
 
Jane: Sure in the freezing #*&$# cold!
 
Blanche: Now Jane, that’s simply not true. Every café we have been at has had overhead heating.
 
Jane: Oh sure! You’re all nice and cozy inside while I freeze my titties off having a puff or two!
 
Blanche: So quit and stay inside with me. It’s as simple as that Jane.
 
Jane: What are you? Half human or something? Besides I look real classy when I smoke.
 
Blanche: ~chuckling~ I’m sure you think you do but every drag brings you closer to eternity.
 
Jane: Oh %##* You Sweetie. I’ll outlive you and Mother too.
 
Blanche: Jane Dear, Mother’s been dead for 20 years!
 
Jane: It’s just a figure of speech Blanche. ~puff, puff~
 
Blanche: We had better get going. Be a good girl. Call a taxi Jane Dear.
 
Jane: ~pauses~ This tower is pretty high up- ain’t it Blanche? ~puff, drag~
 
Blanche: Yes, I believe the Eiffel Tower is as you say- pretty high up. ~she laughs softly~
 
Jane: Hmmm. A Bitch falling off a tower in a wheelchair. It would be like a falling rocket.
 
Blanche: Oh Jane Dear, you’re always plotting the perfect way to get rid of me.
 
Jane: ~Puff, Puff~ Yes Blanche and someday I might just do it!
 
Blanche: Come Jane Dear, I want to buy postcards in the lobby before the taxi arrives.
 
Jane: ~puff, drag, puff~ Who’re you gonna send them to? You ain’t got no friends anyway…
 
Blanche: You’d be surprized Sister Dear. You’d be surprized!

Saturday, February 16, 2013

ROBBLOG #474

In Paris-
The City of Light, with Baby Jane and Blanche
 
Blanche: Oh Jane!! Isn’t this exciting? We’re in Paris!

Jane: Yeah well, I’m still waiting to get my *&(^%# ass pinched. ~puff, puff~ 

Blanche: Jane Dear, that’s Italy not France. Italian men pinch buttocks- not Parisians. 

Jane: You’re probably right. ~drag, cough, puff~ I’ve heard Paris men are all fags anyway. 

Blanche: Now Jane! That is not nice! What a thing to say. Parisiennes are lovers. L’amour. Whether they’re Gay or not!

Jane: La what? ~puff, puff~ 

Blanche: It’s all about “love” Jane. I mean look at those buildings there. How Romantic! Oh Look Jane! The Louvre. Let’s go see Mona Lisa! 


Jane: ~puff, puff~ You want me to come all the way across the freekin’ ocean to see some Lisa broad moaning? I don’t think so Blanche. 

Blanche: Jane. The Mona Lisa is a famous painting from Leonardo da Vinci. It’s in the Louvre. 

Jane: Well she can stay there. ~puff, puff~ Let’s go have a drink. There’s a place there! 

Blanche: Ok, I guess we can see the Louvre tomorrow. A café sounds nice. We can have a glass of French wine and a pastry or a tart!

Jane: That Mona woman ain’t gonna be there is she? 

Blanche: ~chuckling~ No Jane. I don’t think you’ll find the Mona I’m talking about in a Café in Paris. 

Jane: ~puff, drag, puff~ Good. Now wheel yourself through that door and try not to look too pathetic. This is Paris Blanche- not Bleeker Street. People don’t speak the King’s English here. 

Blanche: ~laughs~ No Jane. You have that correct. They don’t speak English. After you Madam!
 

 

 
 

Friday, February 8, 2013

ROBBLOG #473

 
A nice story appeared in the local press today.
 
Irene had lost her purse with credit cards and health card tucked inside. A Good Samaritan found it in a parking lot outside the store where Irene had been shopping and took it back into the store. Irene returned to the store to ask about her purse and was more than happy to have it returned.
 
There are good people out there!
Well, not all people.
 
I don’t know how but I dropped an envelope Tuesday afternoon- containing $180 dollars, while shopping for night lights at Dollarama (near Walmart).
A 2 buck purchase cost me 180 dollars. Expensive lights!
 
I didn’t realize the envelope containing the money was missing from my bag until that evening.
I called the store the next day and they had given the envelope and money in it to someone making a claim for it!
Yes, someone had claimed the white deposit envelope saying it was theirs! There was a Royal Bank receipt inside the envelope- along with the cash, which I had tucked inside a leather bag I carry.
 
Apparently- according to the store manager, a woman picked the envelope up from the floor.
She “found it.”- but when she passed it onto the clerk there was only 100 dollars in it.
The clerk had counted the contents. The nice lady had helped herself to $80.
 
Then less than an hour later a man came in and claimed the remaining $100.
He showed no ID.
He had no proof of a Royal Bank Client card where 4 digits could have been matched from the slip inside the envelope with the money. The store could have retained the envelope and it could have been taken to the Royal Bank.
No, that would have been too easy.
 
There was no remorse from the store manager regarding the loss of any of the funds.
“I’m sorry”- was all she said.
“Maybe you should change your lost and found policy.”- I suggested, nicely.
Why get upset? The cash was gone. Forever.
 
I contacted the police to say that there should be a better system for returning lost items.
The officer said he would speak with the store manager but I have lost the $180.
 
Quite the scam from this lady and gentleman.
I guess they needed it more than I did.
Drugs and booze don’t come cheap these days.
Okay, that’s an unfair comment. Maybe they needed to buy formula for their baby or a pack
of cigarettes.
Sorry. That’s an unfair judgement I know, however, I am just saying.
So, not everyone in Orillia is as forthright when finding someone’s possessions or lost money.
A quick buck is more important. The Management at Dollarama don’t seem interested in changing the rules although the Manager said she would tell the “District Manager”.
 
Really, it was because of the store that I didn’t at least get the $100 dollars that the less-than-truthful “good Samaritan” passed along to the clerk.
 
Oh yes, according to the Dollarama clerk, the lady returning the lost envelope was interested in what would happen to the money if it wasn’t claimed? I suppose she didn’t like the non-answer from the Dollarama clerk so she had a “friend” come to the store to make the claim for the $100.
I mean, she wouldn’t want some unscrupulous person to claim it for his or her own- would she?
Nobody likes being ripped off and there are a lot of unsavoury characters out there. She needed to protect her interest!
I mean, she found “my” money after all right?
It was her duty to protect it like it was her own- wasn’t it?
In her mind she deserved part of it- a reward at the very least, just for finding it and turning it in.
 
How a “theft” like this doesn’t weigh on one’s conscious is beyond me.
I guess they don’t think its breaking any laws or hurting anyone.
 
Hey! Maybe they’ll take up a collection and help me get my money back. They do that for old folks like me- don’t they?
 
In the meantime, I’ll be eating Kraft Dinner for a week or two!
 

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

ROBBLOG #472

DAME CLARE VOYANT
Well My Dears,
 
That nice, young man Mr. Reid has offered me space in his lovely Blog to tell you a few stories
and bring you up to date with happenings around the Palais and town.
 
I have so much time on my hands these days- what with not writing a regular missal to you. You would not believe how many friends, servants and cohorts- such as Mr. Reid, who have been suggesting I take some of my past writings- as well as new bits- and shove them into chapters with the intent of publishing a book.Well My Dears, I have been told to shove it on more than one occasion.
 
My Head Pool Boy- Roger, says his Husband Xavier would be glad to set me up an account with one of those online publishing houses and I’d be away to the races or at least your local bookshop.
 
Imagine me- an authoress!
Stranger things have happened!
Look My Dears, we have a Lesbian ruling the entire Province of Ontario.
I mean My Dears- that’s progress.
I must say that.
I really must.
 
Closer to home, we also have another female leading our Culture Department- what is left of it- that is Darling. Oh yes,  on on the Culture topic that delightful Green-belted Mayor of ours says that Culture is just fine and they get their share of “City Coin” like the rest of the needy. That’s good to know.
 
Now don’t get your tits in a wringer Dears. That’s what artists, actors and cultural types are in Orillia Town- needy. Now, this new gal- although being at the podium cheering section for local cultural happenings, seems to live out of town- perhaps even out of a suitcase. Maybe she already knows she’ll be here “short term” before they push her to the door ar at least transfer her to another city property.
 
Oh, she’ll be all giggles and charm for the first while, as she sits in her office over at City Centre- once inhabited by the male of the species. Wait until she’s asked to do a coffee run! Yes My Dears, a lady in the midst of the “Old Boys Club” who sooner or later is going to get a rude awakening- much like your Dameness wandering out to the pool at the Palais on a beautiful summer morning, only to see Roger and Xavier doing laps in the pool in the all- together.
Splish splash I can see their ass!
Pardon the vulgar term of reference my Dears.
Asses….now where was I?
Oh yes, I was talking about Culture in this fair town of Mr. Leacock’s scribblings.
 
Quite frankly, the new gal on the Culture block would probably do better slamming her head into the wall than trying to do something with that department. Take a page out of a storybook and know that you are damned before you begin- the begine or otherwise.
 
Maybe she can manage her stress levels by mowing a lawn or two on days when she isn’t busy.
Well why shouldn’t  Culture be placed under the same umbrella as the Parks and Rec Boys and Girls? Cultureness is next to Parkness- or something like that!
 
Oh but My Dear, whatever you do, do not criticize or attempt to make a suggestion or try to have an opinion because they’ll shoot you down in Cultureland. The new “Lady of the Cult” will soon learn this. Someone always has a piece of letterhead ready to script a note that’ll be on file for the rest of time- maybe longer, in the bowels of the City Centre.She may be a strong-willed woman and lucky for her if she is big and bold. Brings to mind Joan Crawford’s best line to the boys at Pepsico:
Don’t Fuck with me Fellas!”
What a broad and a real lady she was to us gals!
 
I fear I have dabbled at the keys long enough for one day. No need to raise the hairs on the back of City Hall necks- or backs!
 
My best friend Hedda Lettuce and her Girlfriend/Secretary- Sofonda Cox are due here at the Palais any minute. We take off for Poo Poo Pawi in the next few days.
Palm trees. Island breezes. Men in Speedos.
Does that sound needy?
It is since we “need” to make plans for  two months or more in the South Pacific. As we pick-a-little, talk-a-little, we intend to “drool-a-little” with a Ryan filmfest- Ryan Gosling and Ryan Reynolds. Two Canadian lads who have more culture down their pants than many in Orillia have above the waist.
 
Rod- our Bartender on Poo Poo Pawai. Banana Martini?
 
Well, it’s all forfun though- isn’t it, as well as for Culture?
We all do our best to help the needy- although some are more needy than others.
I must say that My Dears.
I really must.
 
Tah for now.
 
 
 
 



Friday, February 1, 2013

ROBBLOG #471

 
A Cowboys and Indians Party?
 
Whoa Nelly!
 
A group of 20 partiers decided to go to a GTA Bar attired in various versions of a Cowboys and Indians theme. They had tweeted their intentions on Twitter and ‘twas inevitable that there’d be a backlash.
And such a back lash. Protesters turned up outside the restaurant.
Their partying was attacked on a couple of fronts.
 
First off- it wasn’t politically correct.
Note to right-minded Conservatives who don’t understand the phrase “politically correct”, it was unkind, abusive, not nice and not necessary. What if it had of been black face- an Al Jolson Party? Jolson’s act was once revered. These days we know better- at least most of us do. It’s looked down upon. It’s classed as crude and unnecessary like half naked women slinking around poles in “dance” clubs to arouse of male clients as they chow down on a turkey sandwiches-on brown, teamed up with a mugs of frothy beer.
Egads!
 
Secondly, when the words “Cowboys and Indians” are used in that context, it usually means Cowboys killing Indians. That’s what we always saw in those Hollywood westerns back in the day didn’t we?
Circle the wagons. Shoot the Indians. We want their land.
“Oh Lordy!”- cried the Cowboy’s wife, “Why can’t they just leave us in peace. Why do they want to scalp us? We are good Christian folk. They’re just savages!”
 
 
 
Now, a senator and MP in Harper’s Government are accused of anti-first nation remarks and deeds. Does this really surprize anyone?
If it does, give your head a shake.
Twice.
 
It’s true that these days one must be careful when one says or does anything- or prints anything- on a blog like this one for example.
 
Some readers take things personally even if it’s just “supposedly” one person’s point of view.
Why I have received comments from Jehovah’s People several times setting me straight on scriptures and God-like things but they don’t tell me to shut up or stop writing about God and stuff. Some write and tell me being Gay is wrong. A defamation of all that is holy. They tell me it’s morally corrupt and just plain wrong. On the other hand, some readers set me straight once and for all in a “nice” e-mail.
Well, maybe not always “once” or “nice” for that matter.
Sometimes, when once is not good enough, I have to be set straight once again on something a little more formal and threatening.
 
Gosh, straight things are so foreign to me.
 
I asked some people in the know about these various types of responses.
One said- “counselling was needed.”
Another said- “someone doth protest too much.”
Still another said- “someone’s floundering.”
Yet another says- “some people are in over their heads. God help them.”
 
So, instead of a Cowboys and Indians shindig, take a page from my Community and organize a tighty-whitey party.
Or a Speedo night.
Maybe a Luau with Hula attire.
 
The choices are out there, just make the right choice the first time or you’ll hear about it- from someone.