ROBBLOG #548

Usually I have had the opportunity to interview God in Heaven- long distance of course, however since he's away on Summer Break- in the Canadian Rockies which is God's Country I hear, His son said he'd tackle a few questions.

Me: So Jesus Christ how are things?

Jesus: Call me Jesus Rob, I feel I know you anyway. Besides Jesus Christ sounds so formal and it sounds a lot like swearing too.

Me: Oh, yes. I see what you mean Jesus.

Jesus: Why don't we bring that down another notch Rob. Make it J-Man.

Me: Oh...all righty. J-Man it is. So being the Son of God, it must mean pretty big shoes to step into.

J-Man: Holy Smoke you better believe it. When Dad's away all the "vice" in Heaven triples.

Me: Are you telling me you have problems in Heaven just like here on earth.

J-Man: Well Rob, It's the Baptists mainly- although the Catholics like to tell everyone else what's right and wrong and that creates a Holy stink and pisses off the minority religions.

Me: I see...

J-Man: 'Course the Catholics believe they only true religion and they do keep me on a pedestal, so I go easy-peasy on them.

Me: Easy-Peasy. My, that is very open-mined of you J-Man.

J-Man: Oh cripes with the Mormons, Jehovah's and the Scientific folks, a fellah has to move with the times. It's 5774 after all. It's not 4000 anymore.

Me: Pardon your Lordship?

J-Man: Oh sorry Rob, I was using the Jewish year. They are my Dad's chosen tribe after all.

Me: So how's your Mum?

J-Man: She's terrific. Thanks for asking. She started a basket weaving class down at the Orange Hall last week. Fifty-Five born-agains and three Atheists signed up.

Me: Jesus Christ!...I mean For God's Sake...er... you have Atheists in Heaven?

J-Man: Surely we do. Everyone is welcome here. We don't discriminate in Heaven.

Me: Oh...really?

J-Man: Well, that's not exactly true. I mean humans are programmed to hate and despise and discriminate. Just because we plop a few wings on 10% of them and make them Angels doesn't change that fact. Sad isn't it?

Me: I'll say. So do you see your earthly Dad now and then?

J-Man: Oh, of course. Joe runs the Petro Canada station on the other side of Heaven. We get together when we can. Father and Son and Holy Ghost picnics and stuff like that.

Me: Your other Dad- the Father in Heaven, is he okay with that?

J-Man: Oh Sure. He's a pussycat. He's gotten a lot of bad press over the centuries. Like as if he could stop a war or cure someone of cancer and such. Never happened and never will. You folks on your earth make your own pie and you have to slice it and it eat. Your cake too for that matter!

Me: You say "your earth". Are you saying there are others?

J-Man: Oh sure, right under your big nose. Um...you're Jewish right Rob?

Me: No.......

J-Man: Oh sorry.

Me: What??

J-Man: Nevermind.

Me: What? What is it J-Man?

J-Man: I was  just going to say that is one hell of a snoz you're saddled with, eh?

Me: Is it? I though it was just normal size.

J-Man: You know what Robbie, that's the great thing about humanity. If you have faith you can believe anything and obviously you do so- no, your nose if just right- if you have faith and believe.

Me: Gee. I think my nose is fine.

J-Man: Well, that's just dandy then. Look Rob, I'm sitting here at poolside and I didn't put sunblock on this morning and you know what it's like for blonde, fair-haired, blue-eyed people in the sun. I better run and lather some on. Can't have the Heavenly Son all red and blotchy.

Me: Gee Jay- I would have thought your skin would be more olive-toned and darkly-tanned.

J-man: That's what I have always hoped for but I talked to Dad- the big Dad- and he said it's too late to change people's notions now, so I have to live with it. It's not that bad really and anyway, I have real nice legs and a pretty awesome butt, so it evens out.

Me: Um. Isn't vanity a sin?

J-Man: What???? Who said that? I didn't. Probably those same quacks who think Gay folks are sinners. Wait'll they get up here in Heaven. We set them "straight" pretty fast- if you get my Holy Drift.

Me: Actually, I don't.

J-Man: Oh well. I'll tell you then. We make them all greeters at Heavenly Wal*Marts!

Me: Hah! Hah! Good one Jesus. Listen thank you for this and I sure hope we'll talk again.

J-Man: Oh, you can count on that Rob. When it's time for you to come up here, I got a special pair of Angel wings all picked out for you.

Me: For me?

J-Man: Yes and you'll look Fabuluss in them. Gotta fly. Take care.

Me: Yes, I bet you have a million things to do.

J-Man: Not at all. I mean I got to fly. I'm taking my pilot's licence this afternoon.

Me: Oh. Right. Sure thing J-Man. Say hi to your Dads for me.

J-Man: Thy Will be Done!

ROBBLOG#547

A Hot Summer Day on Bleeker Street

1:30 in the afternoon. Jane’s looking out the window at the young stud next door, who is stripped to the waist and pushing a lawnmower. Blanche is flipping through the pages of the July issue of Chatelaine. 

Blanche: A very nice article about Mark Tewkesbury in Chatelaine Jane- a charming photo of him too clad in a royal blue Speedo. My, he has kept his lovely shape- hasn’t he? She looks to Jane standing by the window Jane! Jane! What are you doing? 

Jane: I’m just looking out the window! ~puff~ 

 

 

Blanche: Honestly Jane, you are doing way more than that. Will you please stop staring at that young man cutting Mr. Rickert’s lawn! The neighbours are going to start talking about you. 

Jane: ~puff~ puff~ As if they don’t already Blanche! Anyway, Why... is there some kinda law about gazing at young, naked flesh?

Blanche: Not really. Unless it’s like harassment or something. 

Jane: Oh! Look at those muscles. I’d like to harass him ~drag, puff, drag~ 

Blanche: Jane Dear, you are terrible and that young man is less than half your age. 

Jane: Don’t ya think I know that Blanche. Don’t ya think I know that!! ~puff, puff~ 

Blanche: All I’m saying is… 

Jane: All you’re saying is! All you’re saying is! Blanche there is nothing in the Canadian Constitution or Charter of Rights that says I am doing anything wrong. ~drag~ leer~puff~puff~. 

Blanche wheels her chair closer to the window and looks out 

Blanche: Oh My! ~blush~ He is quite an attractive young man- isn’t he? 

 

 

Jane: What the %&## did I tell ya Blanche? He’s a beauty all right! ~puff, puff~ 

Blanche: Oh Jane he’s looking right at us! He’s wiping his brown! Look at those muscles flexing! 

Jane: ~drag~ drag~ puff~puff~ PUFF~ Holy Mary Mother of…. 

Blanche: Oh Jane, he’s pouring that bottle of water all over his chest. ~pant~ It’s dribbling right down into his shorts. Oh Jane! 

Jane: ~puff~puff~ Five minutes with that in the toolshed and I’d give up smoking! 

Blanche: Five minutes of you with that young man and you’d turn him Gay! ~smirk~  

Jane: Now you just hush your mouth Blanche! 

Blanche: Well Jane, if I could only get out of this chair, I’d swing my legs up and over his head and tickle his… 

Jane: But ya are in that chair Blanche. BUT YOU ARE! 

ROBBLOG #546

Just when you thought it was safe to belt out "The Hills are Alive With the Sound of Music" anywhere at any time, along comes the City of Winnipeg with a new rule.

Now, I've never been to Winnipeg- really. Once a couple of decades ago I stopped enroute to Hawaii but I never had to get off the plane. Winnipeg passengers simple got on the plane and off we flew to Honolulu. So, impressions of Winnipeg are sketchy since I only saw a jet bridge, the terminal and other planes but if I ever do go back to Winnipeg I'll have to keep my lips tightly pursed if I climb onboard Winnipeg Transit.

A new bylaw says if you sing you can be fined $100.
If you decide to play a musical instrument you may also face the same fine.
If you try to ride a unicycle on a bus- as if, or on transit property the same rule applies.
I don't know what would happen if you rode the unicycle playing a musical instrument while
attempting to sing.
A triple whammy, I suppose.

Simply stated, the City of Winnipeg - famous for having Canada's first Gay Mayor (at least I think Glen Murray was first), wants you to keep your flap closed.
Shut your trap.
Seal the pie hole.
Twist the lips and lock them with a key, then throw it away.
Tick Tock double lock!

Now it's not that I often belt out a tune in public but one never knows when the feeling might move one and if one gets moved on a Winnipeg bus- one will pay.
It's like getting a bad review before you get the chance to prove yourself.
The hook before you've finished your first chorus.
You open and close in mere minutes.
That would be a record even for Broadway!

I imagine one of the reasons for this new bylaw- besides the fact there are obviously a bunch of lousy singers travelling on Winnipeg Transit, are the young people who wear headphones in public and sing at the top of their lungs.
I hear- and see, these kids walk past the house all the time.
In defence of this draconian, Winnipegian Law, I must tell you that I haven't heard one good voice or one voice in tune.
Flat notes and unreachable high c's abound.
Maybe the law isn't so draconian after all. Maybe it's saving our ears and sanity from those who "think they can sing" and let's face it, there are many of us out there!

So, if you are travelling to that Manitoban City of Winnipeg this summer- button it.
If you don't when you ride transit, it may be a very expensive ride.

ROBBLOG #545

HOLY FYCK!

I just attended Toronto's World Pride Parade  on Sunday.
I wasn't on a float.
I didn't march with Kathleen and Justin this year but I did see a lot of hot men.
Very Hot Men.
However, I must repeat my opening remark:

H O L Y   FYCK!!!!

 

Joe Killoran is HOT ! HOT! HOT!

If you've been hiding in the shade of a maple, sipping lemonade and vodka martinis this past while, let me tell you that "Shirtless Jogger" a.k.a. Joe Killoran, gave old Robbie Ford the one-two-three verbal punch as he was walking in an East York Canada Day Parade on Tuesday.
He called our Robbie a "racist, a homophobe and a liar".

TRUE! TRUE!TRUE!

Finally someone said it and it just happened to be a hot, hunky, hirsute, handsome, homme who teaches Secondary School for a living. Good God, I don't remember my High School teachers looking like Joe!

Look at that handsome face.
Those pecs.
Those arms.
That chest!

He makes me damp.

Now, someone should give that boy an underwear ad contract.
Treat him like the piece of meat he is.
He deserves it.
Whip ~snap~ him into shape!
Let's see him posing in a photographer's studio in speedos, black underwear, a bit of leather or absolutely nothing at all.
A dozen 8x10's s'il vous plait.

You would think after seeing all those boys in various states of undress at Pride on the weekend, that my needs would be numbed...and they were- until Joe- The "shirtless jogger".

Is Joe single?
Is he Gay?
What streets does one normally see Joe jog along. Oh, no particular reason but if I was in the neighbourhood...

I don't jog but I would if Joe asked me to accompany him.
Oh, sooner or later along the way, I'd feign a sore ankle and he'd have to swoop me up in his beefy arms, cradling me to his hot, hairy, sweaty chest and jog me to safety.
I could wipe him down with a cool, damp towel.

I hope he does a personal appearance tour.
There are so many questions I need to pursue.
I wonder if he can make his titties jump when he flexes?
Does he sculpt his hair?
What size shoes does he wear or does Joey jog barefoot as well as barechested?

I am sure the answers to these questions- and more, are forthcoming.

In the meantime- enjoy. Holy FYCK! and I mean that. I really do.