ROBBLOG #466

 

 

 

I am talking a break from this Rob Blog.

I am nearing 500 posts and as a Yuletide Gift to me, I am giving it a rest.

 

This Blog is one man’s mind.

One man’s opinion.

Oh, you are entitled to one too.

I mean an opinion.

The mind- I dare not judge on that.

 

A new year is coming and we would all do well to be prepared because it’s inevitable that shit is going to hit the fan and who the hell wants to be covered in shit?

 

You may well ask- how does a Humanist (read: Atheist) celebrate Christmas.

Same as you.

I just don’t take it seriously.

I think the Christmas Story about the Stable is heart-warming but then, so is apple cider.

Does God take it personally?

No.

Why?

Because, there is no God.

If there was, why wouldn’t he save those kids shot by such as evil human?

Why wouldn’t he smite that Soldier who killed all those women and now sits alone in Kingston Pen.

Give it your best shot God.

Smite him.

Yoo-Hoo God?

Hmmm. He doesn’t seem to be there…

 

There is no Superior Being looking after his flock.

I am alone.

You are alone.

We are all alone.

 

The only living being who takes stuff rather personally is another “Human Being” living on this earth and to tell you the truth, I have had it up to here with others judging me- both family and friends.

 

Religion will be the death of all of us.

It’s been the death of so many already.

 

Enough of that.

It’s the Holidays. I want to be jolly so I have written a poem.

I stole some of the iambic pentametre  from Clement Moore.

It’s a Holiday Poem.

Read and enjoy and find peace and goodwill- enough to last you the whole year through.

Happy Holidays and a Merry Xmiss!

 

 

 

A Holiday Poem

 

‘Twas the nigh of a New Year,

And all through the place-

We sit and be jolly-

With smiles on our face.

 

Baileys is poured,

Served with some ice,

Lovely and yummy-

It really is nice.

 

And I in a red shirt and

He in his sweater,

Just lounging around-

Out of the weather.

 

The moon shone so bright-

But not on the snow.

Today’s winter weather,

It just goes to show-

That things are still changing,

On left and on right.

We smile with great gladness

This night of all nights.

 

 

We stare at the fireplace-

Its flames dancing bright.

It sparkles and cracks-

What a Holiday sight!

 

We cuddle in comfort-

We hear not a clatter

From family and friends

There’s nothing the matter.

 

Remembering the past

As night stretches to dawn.

Now fading- once vibrant,

Those that have gone.

 

 

 

 

We consider these lives

Both happy and good,

It tugs at our heart strings

You expect that it would.

 

This Holiday Season,

So warm and so light

We carry it forward

This glad Christmas Night.

 

 

 

 

ROBBLOG #465

First off,

The reviews are in from Hank’s Holiday Showcase and Variety Show.

Here is a sampling.

 

Thanks Rob!

A performance well done, congrats to you and cast!!!

-Angelo (Mayor Orsi)

Hank

 

Enjoyed the show a lot.

-John (Swartz)

 

I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed

the Show. It was so well done- I loved all the characters!

-Brenda Tuddenham

 

Chris and I want to thank you so much for the tickets

to last Friday night's show.

It was fabulous and we really enjoyed the show.

-Chris and Gina Jones

Nuns of Woebegone and Beverely Scrooge

 

I have to tell you how much Beth and I enjoyed the show on Saturday. We laughed.

- Tom and Beth

We decided that once you have experienced one show you are hooked, so expect to see us again!

-Fran Woodhurst (The Helpful Painter)

 

Thank You for a very delightful afternoon

-Norbert Kondracki

 

Other words from “fans” include:

Fantastic!

Excellent!

Very Well Done!

 

We are humbled.

Would we do it again?

No.

You are probably saying to yourself “why”?

 

I don’t want to say…

 

IN OTHER NEWS

 

Somebody or some “bodies” are peeing on books in a library in Leamington. The Police and the Library are trying to hunt down the culprit and plug the hole in his “pipe”. If they find him, they should tie him to a tree and let everyone pee on him. I don’t believe it’s a “her” unless “she” bottles it and sprinkles it on the books in the same way your Mother used to sprinkle her ironing with water back in the 50’s- before steam.

 

Did you know that statistically, we lose half of our friends every seven years?

I must be on a roll!

 

The Holidays are here.

They must be because

Poinsettias are banned at a Bell office in Mississauga because one employee has an allergy if she were to eat the plant.

Yumm.

 

Christians and Christmas.

Puh-lease!

Take the Christ out of Christmas like I do.

Xmas or Xmiss- or the Holidays.

Like wars and religious conflicts and arguing about prayers in schools and right-wingers, Christians ruin everything they touch. Give them enough “garland” and they’d screw up the Holidays too.

What’s the problem with a beautiful tree all be-decked in lights and ornaments?

It doesn’t mean one is celebrating Christmas.

It means one is celebrating Clement Moore’s Santa landing on a rooftop and coming down one’s chimney.

Enjoy the season.

Love one another- even family members- if you are so inclined.

 

De-stress.

Stare at a clear December sky.

Walk in the snow.

Hug your spouse. Tell him or her you Love them.

Buy a gift for someone and help the less-fortunate.

 

Finally…

 

Anne Hathaway showed the press her “lily garden” when climbing out of a shiny limo at the Les Miserables premiere in New York City.

Yawn…

Oh Sure.

She goes commando but does Mr. Hugh Jackman give us even the smallest- or largest, hint as to what dwells in the moist hotness between his hirsute, oak-like thighs?

~ahem~

No Sir- he does not!

Hugh ~sigh~

 

ROBBLOG #465

Yet Another Day on Bleeker Street with Jane and Blanche...

 

Blanche: Gee Jane, Look how our Christmas Tree glows. The lights are all so pretty.

 

Jane: Yah ~puff, puff~ That angel on top sure has a satisfying smile on her face- don’t she? Wonder what she’s up to? Probably been into the egg nog.

 

Blanche: Oh Jane Dear, you are so funny. Say, why don’t we go downtown today and do some shopping and then have tea in that cute little café. Maybe you could invite your friend Johnnie Strongman along. He’s such a nice young man.

 

Jane: ~puff, drag, puff~ Sure. Why not. Get some Christmas Spirit going.

 

Blanche: Why Jane you sound like you’re starting to get into a Holiday Mood!

 

Jane: Well ~puff, drag~ Maybe so. I ain’t all bad you know. I have my good days!

 

 

 

 

Blanche: Oh I know Jane but it is just so wonderful seeing you smile and your eyes twinkle in between puffs of that nasty cigarette. Now Jane Dear, you won’t make a scene trying to “light up” when we’re at the café- will you?

 

Jane: Nah. ~drag, puff, puff~ It’s the Holidays. Why should I wanna screw up a nice afternoon.

 

Blanche: Lovely. Oh and Jane Dear…

 

Jane: What now? ~puff~

 

Blanche: Tell Johnnie Strongman to keep his shirt on when we are having tea. Last time a half dozen ladies fainted.

 

Jane: Awwww. A bunch of prudes but since it’s the Christmas Season, I’ll tell him. ~puff~

 

Blanche: Lovely. Now, let’s get ready and then you bring the car around to the front of the house.

 

Jane:  Oh- Fah-Lah-Lah ~puff, cough, puff, cough~ Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah…

 

 

 

 

 

ROBBLOG #464

Hi Kids!
Dame Clare takes over the ROBBLOG today. Things are a Jingling at the Palais for Christmas!

Well, My Dears “bells are a tinkling” and “carols are a singing” as the night of nights, that “day of days” approaches. I must say that everyone at the Palais Royale is brimming with good cheer-even Doris my Tea Maid. Alas, that wasn’t the case a few days ago. You see Doris was serving an absolutely charming Christmas Tea to my best friend Hedda and a circle of our closest “cronnies”. There was Meg Danson. Eighty-if she’s a day and still cramming religion down the throats of the very young every Sabbath Morning at Sunday School. Oh, she a lovely thing and loves to follow up her afternoon tea with a hot toddy. After a selection of “toddy’s”one wonders how Meg swallows it all when she becomes “holier than thou”. Bi-Polar I suppose.

 

Agnes Fagola is another in our friendly tea circle. Oh, My Dears, what a filthy mind that “old dolly” has on herself and a wonderful drinking arm too. She is legendary in these parts! Why my Head Pool Boy Roger absolutely “trembles” and little goose pimples appear on a red swath of skin across his broad chest, hidden only by a thick patch of chestnut brown fur, when Agnes speaks in “double entenres” and runs a trembling, gin splashed, middle finger across his shoulder blades. Oh, Dears, Roger is quite the good sport about it and he usually gets a “beefy bonus” from Agnes each Christmas because Roger gives her swimming lessons and has done so for these past six years. My Dears, it would appear Aggie is a slow learner and a fast sinker! 

Anyway, Darlings, as Doris was serving our Christmas Tea, a silver tray tipped onto the Persian rug-quite unexpectantly, sending a pair of my loveliest Christmas China cups crashing to the ground. Doris took a huge sobbing fit and blubbered something to the effect-

“Oh, Mawdammmm, I yam soooo “sari”. I should be whipped with a wet nozzle. I am not swarthy!”

Hedda and I both giggle, knowing she full-well meant to say “noodle” and “worthy” but with Doris sometimes the Queen’s English seems a little more Acadian.

“Oh, Dame Clare, what if Chippendale’s has re-tried that pattern?”-she sobbed over the cucumber and tuna salad sandwiches.

As I quickly motioned for Hedda to remove the soon to be soggy sandwich fare-covered side plates with the daisy chain of gold-tinted Poinsettias’s to safety, I turned my Royal attention to Doris’ sighs and sobs.

“ No, don’t worry about a silly little cup, my Dear!”- I exclaimed with a wink not unlike Saint Nick’s-

“ For I’ll shall call upon Chippendale’s tomorrow morning- fully realizing Doris meant Harrod’s in Knightsbridge. The Knightsbridge in London-over the pond My Dears! 

Dear Doris does get confused at times. However, she is a Dear. The fun continues when every year we join with Doris in the re-telling of the Bethlehem saga. She even believes the King’s name in the Nativity Story that sends the Family-wholy together, scrambling for their lives into Egypt, is King Chippendale. We all have a holiday hee-haw about that every year when Doris repeats the entire “Wholy Storey” at the staff Christmas bash in the south Dining Room.

When someone tries to correct Doris’ faux-paux, quietly explaining it is “Herr-rod” we all start to snicker and turn to smile at my Pool Boy Roger who by this time is turning thirty shades of pinky-red.

This year at the staff soiree, it was even more fun when we had to explain our bit of Holiday Kibitzing to Roger’s hubbie Xavier. When Xavier realized it was just more Holiday hi-jinks at the expense of Roger and his Speedos, well he laughed  so hard he darn near split a gusset. Hedda and I have heard that “manly” branch referred to by many names but “hair-rod” was just about the funniest. How Jolly that Soiree was this year. I am very lucky that my Roger has such a good and temperate sense of humour. We do so love to “pull” his Santa bag now and then- don’t we? 

So the Christmas Tea was a total success and my Darling Chauffeur Rudy had to whisk Aggie home and see that she was firmly planted into her Chippendale- bed I mean, My Dears. My, but it took Rudy several hours to do so. Hmmm. He is such a perfectionist. 

My, it’s getting a little cool in the sitting room where I merrily clang on these keys. I must ask Harry to lay a fire. Harry the Palais Handyman is out in the workshop waxing the runners on the sled in hopes of a White Christmas.

Yes, that’s the ticket, a warm fire, a soothing cup of Jackie Dee and a quick call to Juan de Cortelles de Primo Gaunchy Robustoso, my Darling Masseuse and I shall be “merry” all over. 

Tah, for now my Dear. Happy Holidays. Oh Dears, do remember the Food Bank-won’t you.

ROBBLOG#463

The Holidays are nigh….

 

They must be because the Orillia Downtown Management Board have been decorating for the Holidays…again.

These same bunch of D.O.M.B bunnies who “crucified” snowmen on downtown lampposts two years ago- to everyone’s dismay, are back this year “hanging” things up again. Only this year it’s Christmas Trees- 60 of them as a matter of fact!

 

The trees are hanging by wires from the same planters where huge baskets of colourful petunias and begonias thrive throughout the warmer months.

 

Here’s rule number one when decorating-

Just because it’s there you don’t have to use it.

Unfortunately, rule one has been abused.

The trees are hanging from the lamp posts with their trunks planted in buckets of kitty litter.

 

I know.

This practically writes itself.

 

So what do we have plenty of in Downtown Orillia?

Feral cats for one.

Drunks and the homeless too.

 

So, let’s think about this. When a feral cat needs to pee, where does it go?

Outside. On the street. In buckets of kitty litter maybe?

 

When a drunk or a homeless person- who doesn’t have access to indoor plumbing, needs to tinkle, where do they go?

Right again.

Outside.

 

Thanks to the D.U.M.B (that’s Downtown Uhrillia Management Board) they’ve made it very convenient. The puddy cats are happy. The drunks will line up at the trees outside local drinking establishments to “tree-tinkle” too.

What fun!

How festive!

 

 

 

Now, besides the fresh aroma of spruce and pine, the alluring fragrance of “eau de pee” will waft along downtown streets. Just wait until some sunny, warm December days!

Intoxicating!

 

On the upside, Orillia may become better known for this attempt at Holiday decorating.

We may well become the “Paris France” of Central Ontario- what with all that outdoor “tinkling” going on.

 

Rule number two.

Affix decorations so they’ll not fall off a Christmas Tree or be abused. So, what else do we have in spades in Downtown Orillia?

Abuse.

Kids who spray paint, destroy, tinkle on and steal all manner of things- for drug money or kicks, like Christmas Lights and Decorations that adorn these hanging trees.

How nice!

A ready-made Christmas tree all ripe for the plucking. A simple pair of snips and it’s done. Haul it to a waiting ‘72 Dodge pickup andBob’s your Christmas Uncle!

I believe three have been plucked already.

 

Pluck me!

I believe it’s time to call in “real” decorators or at least a savvy Gay Man. There are plenty to be had and used to great advantage in Good Old Orillia Town- the soon to be “Pissour Capital” of Ontario.

 

ROBBLOG #462

Just Another Holly Day on Bleeker Street

 

Time: 213PM

The Day: Tuesday

 

Blanche: Fah-Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah-Lah!

 

Jane: What the Fah-Lah-Lah-Fu** in tarnation makes you such a happy handicapper?

 

Blanche: Sister Dear! Really! It’s the Holiday Season? Why have you been sleeping in the root cellah again Jane?

 

Jane: Veruh Funny Blanche. You Holiday Hipsters make me wanna ….

 

Blanche: (quickly) Sing at the top of your lungs Jane?

 

Jane: (Lights a fag) Ya. Sure. Somethin’ like that! ~puff-drag-puff~

 

Blanche: Look Sister. Why don’t you go up in the attic and bring the rest of the Holiday decorations down here and we’ll decorate the tree- together.

 

Jane: Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t ya Sister Dear? ~puff~

 

Blanche: Look Jane, Mr. Sorenson is coming by with a fresh, balsam spruce this afternoon and think of the fun we’d have decorating it all up. Why I could bake some brownies and make hot chocolate.

 

Jane: ~harumphhhh~ puff~ drag~puff~

 

Blanche: We could turn on the old 8 Track machine, plug in a Perry Como tape and hang some balls and light the lights!

 

Jane: ~sarcastically~ Now, wouldn’t that just be a “ball” of fun! You and me actin’ like sisters, Sister!

 

Blanche: Oh c’mon Jane. It’ll be fun. Do it for me.

 

Jane: (pauses) You say you’d make some brownies?

 

Blanche: Yes.

 

Jane: With fudge frosting?

 

Blanche: ~laughs~ Yes Jane Dear. ~chuckles~ With fudge frosting!

 

Jane: OK. I’m in but just remebah this doesn’t mean I love the holidays. I’m doin’ it for you.

 

Blanche: Good enough for me Sister Dear. Good Enough for me.

 

Blanche wheels away into the kitchen to bake her brownies while Jane heads for the attic room and the Christmas Boxes. Looks like it just might be a Happy Holiday on Bleeker Street this year!

ROBBLOG #461

Cripes! 
 

There’s just too much to comment on, so I’ll do some “Quickies”. 
 

Channing Tatum Sexiest Man Alive for 2012.

American logic, of course.

Not even close. I even hesitate to call him an actor. Have you seen anything he’s done?

That stint on Saturday Night Live a few months back was pitiful. Even taking his shirt off “barely” helps. So, let’s put this in perspective- Sexiest Man in American Eyes?

OK.

Maybe, but what about Robert Downey, Seth Myers, Joel McHale (Yummy!),

John Hamm, Ryan Gosling- a Canadian Hunk, Chris Pine, Ryan Reynolds- another Canuk and Alexander Skarsgard- total yummy and my favourite amongst all of the above.

Channing? Re-thinkable at best.

 

Orillia’s Pool and whatnot at the David H. Church Street property- in the South Ward?

C’mon.
 

Really?
 

I mean- Really?
 

Just when there was the opportunity to breathe life into West Street South, these dummies chose a property surrounded by half-shacks and welfare slums.

Not all- but many.

Really?
 

The West Street South choice might have helped the Downtown. Maybe even that loser of a strip mall at King and West could be improved not to mention the old, empty, decaying former Canadian Tire store.

No, let’s put it in the South Ward where most couldn’t even afford to belong to such an enterprise.

It’s nuts! 
 

A man at a Keswick McDonalds was talking dirty to a “lady” on his laptop as a Mum and her kid sat close by. The online “mama” wanted the patron to do this and that to her- cyberspace-wise that is. The nice Mum moved her kid to another booth in the McDonalds and told the manager who in turn spoke with the alleged horny dude. The dude stayed in the “mood” for another 20 minutes. I suppose he had paid his buck ninety-nine for 20 minutes and wasn’t going to waste it! What Cretans won’t do in public with a computer.
 

Geesh! 
 

That Canadian-educated American Spy guy who sent a photo of himself stripped to the waist alongside two “dummies” needs to keep his shirt on. A Newspaper article describes the guy as “buff” and a caption beneath the photo says he’s standing next to two dummies that are equally as “ripped” and “buff” as he is.
 

Who are they kidding?
 

I saw the picture and he’s not even close to being “buff”. I mean in comparison to this guy, Channing Tatum is “buff”. For pete’s sake, the dummies have pecs and large torsos whereas this FBI Guy is skinny.

Okay- trim.

It hurts my eyes to look at him. The press needs to take another look and re-phrase the caption. 
 

Oie! 
 

Then, there’s that parade of War Vets in Midland Texas. The parade route crossed rail lines. As a float carrying “veterans” crossed the tracks, a freight train just happened to come along and hit it broadside.

Dead and injured lined the tracks.

Question?

Didn’t any of the organizers check the freight train schedule? 

What a mess and an unfortunate incident that could have been avoided. The pictures show lots of lights and warning signs at the crossing. 
 

Finally, there’s Toronto’s Mayor Ford.

Wait.

That’s just too easy. 
 

Over and out for now!

ROBBLOG # 460

What has gone wrong with the world? 

I ask you in all sincerity. 

Some black, female singer who likes to show her titties and twatty is on the cover of GQ magazine. To be fair, you can only see some rounded tittie parts and her twatty is covered with her “fore-arm-y” but the intent is clearly visible. This same singer provided a ho-hum performance in army boots and hunting jacket on a recent Saturday Night Live!

Some people get all the breaks! 

Good Gosh!

Everyone knows that only Gay Men read GQ.

So, why not a pic of Hugh Jackman on the cover stroking his magnificent, manly arms? Even Brandon Routh who plays a Gay Man on Television’s “Partners” would have made a much more exciting cover sporting those arms of his that are the size of pillars on a Victorian Home’s front verandah.

Egads!

Brandon and his bicep- from TV's Partners- WOOF!

Tim Hortons in Oman?

Yup.

Tim’s has now officially opened in the Sultanate of Oman after opening 19 outlets in the United Arab Emirates. Crowds have gathered to indulge in a little piece of Canada but where are the women at?

In the pictures I haven’t seen a woman behind the counter working or in front of the counter buying. It’s all men.

I always ask- Where are the women folk at?

I know the answer- at home barefoot, preggers and covered up from head to toe in case some man where to take a sideways glance at them and have an evil or sexual thought.

One lump or two- sir?

~pause!

I mean in your coffee- not your camel! 

Oh Dear!

Martha Stewart may be losing her empire.

The Queen of Bitches has lost something like 188 million in the past couple of years.

Of course, she still made 230 some million but still it’s a pile of money to part with to be sure.

Reports say Martha has 9 personal servants.

I have zero. 

She has 4 homes.

I have one. 

She has any number of paint colours, furniture, magazines and Christmas Decor named after her.

I have none and I’m not even a bitch.

Wait!

Let me re-think for a moment. 

~ahem~ 

To be fair, I can be a bitch when I need to be and that’s the simple truth, however,

I wouldn’t change it for the world.

The reason?

I am a Gay Man, so suck it up. 

As a matter of fact, if people don’t like it, they can chew last month’s issue of GQ and no- I don’t know who was on the cover, so eat it anyway. 

Thus ends today’s lesson.