Saturday, December 15, 2012


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?
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.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012


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)


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.
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:
Very Well Done!
We are humbled.
Would we do it again?
You are probably saying to yourself “why”?
I don’t want to say…
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!
I don’t have many friends and the ones I have just keep fucking up.
Hey! I’m not taking the blame here.
I am perfect!
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.
Christians and Christmas.
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.
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.
Anne Hathaway showed the press her “lily garden” when climbing out of a shiny limo at the Les Miserables premiere in New York City.
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?
No Sir- he does not!

Hugh ~sigh~

Saturday, December 8, 2012


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…

Thursday, December 6, 2012


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.