Tuesday, December 31, 2013
January 2014 and time to look in on our favourite gals- Jane and Blanche. It seems that Jane is upset with what she see's outside her Bleeker Street window. Let's see what's up.
Just Another January Day on Bleeker Street
Jane: What a piece of crap day this is!! ~puff~drag~puff~puff
Blanche: Why? What's the matter Jane Dear.
Jane: Well, just look Blanche. Look at that. Look there, out that window. ~puff~puff~
Blanche: (wheels to the window) What is it Jane? All I see is snow.
Jane: That's it Blanche. That's it exactly. All that F****** snow and cold! ~puff~
Blanche: Oh Jane Dear (chuckle), It's January for pitty sakes. There's always snow in January.
Jane: Well, I don't like it. It's filthy stuff. It keeps me in and makes driving dangerous. ~puff~
Blanche: Yes, that is true enough.
Jane:...and it ain't no fun.
Blanche: Yes I know Jane Dear. That's why you have to make your own fun. Go for a walk...
Jane: A f***ing what? ~puff~drag~ In this stuff? You are crazy sister Dear!
Blanche: Well then, go ice skating or tobogganing. Call Your friend Mr. Anderson.
Jane: Mr. Anderson? Mr. Anderson from down at the hardware store? That ~puff~ man?
Blanche: Yes. That man Jane. (pause) Hey, I thought you were giving up those cancer-sticks.
Jane: I will just as soon as you get outta that chair and walk around the block. Hah!
Blanche: Now Jane Dear, you know Dr. Mottle says that may not happen anytime soon.
Jane: Well, keep me abreast of any news will ya? You want a tea?
Blanche: That would be lovely Jane. (pause) You know what, maybe we can call a cab.
Jane: What fer?
Blanche: Well to get out of the house. We'll go have a tea and a snack at a nice little café.
Jane: ~puff~puff~ OK, Sure. Why not. It's better than sitting here growing fat on our asses!
Blanche: Yes Jane, that it is. That it is. Now, I'll go get changed and you arrange a cab.
Jane: ~puff~puff~ Sister Dear.
Blanche: What Jane?
Jane: Sometimes it's worthwhile having you around even though you're stuck in that damn chair.
Blanche: Why Jane. That's the nicest thing you've said to me so far this year! (chuckle)
Posted by Rob Reid at 8:07 AM
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
It’s a time to wrap yourself in Holiday warmth.
A time to be spiritual-whatever that means for you.
A chance to be retrospective. What have I done and where am I going?
A time for friends and family.
A time for re-charging our batteries.
I like to grab and hold close every wonderful, spirit-filled moment of this season
Snow hanging thickly on the branches of trees.
The crispness in the air.
Kids screaming with joy as they glide down the golf course hill on a new sleigh.
The hustle and bustle.
The smell of mincemeat pie warming in the oven.
Friends stopping by with a wish for good cheer.
A special delivery of flowers from a special friend.
Watching an old movie. Simple, heart-felt and home-spun.
I love to go out to dinner during the Holiday Season. Indulge my palette with a rich dessert. A special coffee-maybe a chocolate martini!
Yes, I’ll pay for it in January. I'll take a few extra walks and eat a few less desserts during that horrid month and the waistline might- eventually, come be back to normal!
This year we are missing our 17 year old yellow Lab, Kiki, who passed back on August 3rd. However we have the love and companionship of Missy-our mini-schnauzer who loves to go for a wintry walk and romp through through the freshly-fallen snow. Once home, there’ll be puuurfect greetings from our orange tabbies Dickens and Doyle.
We’ll take time to remember our Dear friend Sienny- Mrs. P, who passed early in the morning this past Labour Day. She was a gift to both of us and we cherish the memories of the 25 years in which P was a part of our lives.
Actually, this Holiday originates from a Roman Pagan Holiday that I believe started on December 21st-The Winter Solstice. When Christians- a couple of hundred years after Christ, wanted to proclaim a Holiday celebrating the Birth of the “Christ Child” they slid the Christmas Holiday in on the backside of the Romans who were celebrating at that time anyway...and the Romans knew backsides. Frontsides too!
However, it’s the little things that count-right?
Nothing says Happy Holidays like slipping into a nice, comfy Red Sweater.
Hot chocolate with an extra scoop of whipped cream.
A tasty butter tart. Maybe two.
Cousin Vilda’s Pie. Yummmm.
Holiday tunes on Swisssh and Starlite Radio. (Yes, that’s a shamless self-promotional plug!)
Holiday decorations shimmering on trees and from inside frosted windowpanes.
Thank you for tuning into Swisssh Radio and Starlite Radio- and of course, for reading this blog.
Have a Merry Holiday! May all your wishes come true.
If there’s only one gift you give at this wonderful time of the year-
Make it the gift of LOVE.
Sincere Season's Greeting to one and all.
Posted by Rob Reid at 6:59 AM
Friday, December 20, 2013
This RobBlog is what you would call a fractured "Fairy Tale"- in more ways than one.
It's not Charles Dickens but it has a chuckle or two. Enjoy and Happy Holidays and thanks for reading.
It was half past three when Jimmy-Joe-Bob- a rather handsome and husky lad, stomped the snow off his winter boots- size 12’s, as he came in the back door.
“Did you get those pigs into the barn Jimmy-Joe-Bob”?
It was Mama’s voice echoing from the fancy parlour at the front of the house where she was untangling electric light sets. A tree stood proudly in the front window. She planned on winding the strings around the branches of the seven foot Nova Scotia Balsam Pine before supper.
Jimmy-Joe-Bob walked into the parlour. He stood with hands bookending his trim, taut waist.
“Yes, Mama. The pigs are in the barn but Mama, why in Christmas Bells does the barn have to be so far away from the house?”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob sounded pissed.
“Now Jimmy-Joe-Bob you mind your blankety-blank language or I’ll take my curling iron to you testicles
and...and… throw you and your nuts out into a snowbank- all nekked, just to cool ‘em off. You know very well your father built the barn fer away from the house so the pigstank didn’t waft through our windows on hot summer days.
“Yes Mama. I know that but still it’s a good hike”- said Jimmy-Joe-Bob all whiney-like. “So when’s Daddy coming home?”
“I’m not quite sure. He phoned an hour ago and said he was thinking about givin’ his whore a good workout before he caught the bus home. Sure hope he makes it home before it starts to snow.”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob paused for a second and then asked his Mama if he had some time to himself before dinner.
“Yes, Dear. Of course. Why don’t you climb those stairs to that cozy attic room of yours and leaf through the underwear section of that Eaton’s catalogue you got stuffed under yer mattress. Take a gander at all them fine men on pages 345 through to and including page 352. You might find yourself a husband.
“A what?”- chimed Jimmy-Joe-Bob.
“Now, a wee bit of wrist exercise would do you a world of good. You always seem to be in a much more pleasurable mood after you’ve turned your…!”
“Mama! For Gooness sake!
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was all red in the face yet he distinctly felt some stirring in this loins below.
“I was about to say turned your pages in them music books!”- smiled Mama.
“I’m sure you were.” Billy-Joe-Bob didn’t sound convinced.
“Oh Hush now. Go play with yourself on your piano. Listen, I hear’d one of the boys talking down at the Riteway Grocery store last week when I was buying brown sugar for my apple crisp. I hear’d them say they’d seen you nekked in the shower over at school the day before and….well, by the way they were talking, every single one of them was highly impressed with your member and terribly ashamed that they all had much smaller…”
“Dick Kensington!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob interjected quickly-like.” Dick Kensington, he’s in my home form room and I wrestle with him Tuesday and Thursdays. That’s who you probably heard talking about me being all nekked.”
Mama sighed- “Well…yes...perhaps but all the same, it sure sounded like he’d be real happy to put his cow into your barn!”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was taken aback with in surprize!
“Jesus wept! We don’t have any cows Mama!”
“It was just a figure of speech.”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was feeling embarrassed about- yet proud, of his stalwart member. He had seen the boys in the shower room pointing and staring the other day.
Some with lust in their eyes.
Some with disgust.
Still others, with yardsticks in their hands.
On that very day- of which his Mama was referring to- right after wrestling practise and showering naked, all the boys went downtown to Ike Handy’s magazine shop where Ike had just put in a line of new adult toys- especially for Christmas!
Mama was glad she could speak in such a forthright manner to her son. Jimmy-Joe-Bob had grown into a real choice bit of beef. His body has grown hard and muscular and his pectorals were blanketed with a thick mat of wiry, jet-black chest hair. My, how the boys were gonna go for him once he finished high school! At least Mama hoped he’d take after the boys and not wind up with some “jay-jay” obsessed trollop who’d treat her son unkindly and “Jay-Jay whip him” for the rest of his life. Oh how she hoped for a Gay son. It would be the answer to her prayers! After all Jessie Pouter- the town gossip, had one and that’s all she could talk about these days. That prissy, fat-assed son of hers- Brian, who had just recently come out after Senior Bible Class one Sunday morning in late November.
Jimmy-Joe-Bob turned from his Mama and headed for the stairs with visions of Hugh Jackman dancing in his head- although he didn’t quite know why. Heat was rising up steadily from his Calvin Cline bikini briefs.
“Oh Jimmy-Joe-Bob. Hold on a second. Before you go up there and commence pleasuring…”
“..before you start pleasuring your ears with a holiday tune or two, I was wondering if you’d do me a favour. You see, I’ve decided to put up another tree in the family room this year. Before you start pleasuring yerself, can you go and get yer Grandpa from the basement and head over to Prissy-Sue Weiner’s place?”
Mama was still unwrapping a set of lights she had picked from the pile on the back of the chesterfield, where the strings lay in mangled clusters.”
“Sure. But what am I gonna do at Prissy Sue’s Mama?” Jimmy-Joe-Bob was perplexed. Right nicely hung but perplexed all the same.
“Well I am getting to that! I want you and Grandpa to cut down that huge spruce that sits yonder in her front yard?”
“Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll go downstairs and get Grandpa.” He paused for a second.
“Prissy’s okay with us chopping down that tree- right?”
Mama didn’t answer. She started to sing Silent Night in as loud a voice as she could muster.
As Jimmy-Joe-Bob pranced towards the basement steps Mama thought about Prissy and how every Christmas she bragged and bragged about her Applecake.
“Huh!”- thought Mama, “Too much nutmeg for my taste!”
Grandpa lived in a little hole in the wall next to the furnace in the basement. Jimmy-Joe-Bob rapped on the wall next to the hole and in a minute or two Grandpa crawled out. Jimmy-Joe-Bob told Grandpa about Prissy’s tree and in a few minutes they were walking down the street towards the Weiner’s Place.
Jimmy-Joe-Bob had slung a big, heavy axe over his broad, mannish shoulders.
“Don’t prick yourself with that axe!”- said Grandpa nervously as they walked along side by side. The snow was gently falling on the cedars lining the street.
It wasn’t long before they came to the huge Weiner property. Grandpa pointed to the lofty spruce in the north-west end of Prissy’s yard.
“There she is boy. That’s yer tree!”
“Wow Grandpa, that’s a big one!”
“It sure is boy. It sure is! I’ve been keeping my eye on it ever since Prissy planted it! Now hurry before she comes home from work and catches us.”
Grandpa smiled as he glanced over towards Jimmy-Joe-Bob, seeing the huge bulge in the front of the boy’s Wrangler jeans. He watched Jimmy-Joe-Bob walk towards the evergreen and saw that the boy had that all-too-familiar gate, as if he had a huge sausage stuffed down the front of his blue jeans, impeding each step.”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob had screamed like a little girl in his Grandpa’s direction.
“Wow what a beaut! I’ll have this down in a jiff!”
As he started to swing the axe at the Weiner’s tree he looked over his left shoulder towards Grandpa.
As he did so, he could see his shoulder muscles twist this way and that under his pinky-red sweatercoat.
“Grandpa, do you think they’ll mind us taking this tree down?”
“Naw.”- said Grandpa, “They’re wieners. Just the same though, I’d appreciate you picking up the pace some, what with you wearing that sweatercoat and all. It’s kinda Gay!”
“What’s that Grandpa? What day? Why it’s almost Christmas Day!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob continued to chew away at the Weiner’s trunk.
In a few minutes, Grandpa and Jimmy-Joe-Bob were dragging the big ole spruce back home.
Once inside the house, Jimmy Joe-Bob called out to his Mama-
“Is this big enough for you?”
Mama sized it up and was pleased with what she saw. She stood and glared at the sturdy-looking trunk.
“Mama! Not my trunk! The tree and its huge trunk. Is it big enough for you?”
“Oh. Yes. Uh…Right. The tree trunk. My, it is a big one!” Mama gushed as she sat on the chesterfield with several strings of Christmas lights in her lap and a lit Export A- unfiltered, between her long, boney fingers.
Grandpa snickered and coughed even more loudly.
“It’s really big- as you can see. Nothing like a big Weiner of a tree, Livia!”
He called her Livia because that was her name.
“Say when did you start smoking Livvy? Those things can kill ya- don’t you know.”
Livia looked down at the ciggie smoking away between her fingers.
“Oh, it’s just something I saw in a Swedish film and I thought I’d see what it was like. It makes me look younger- don’t ya think? Smoking I mean.”
“Nah. Throw it away. You don’t need any of that stuff. If you wanna suck on something try…”
“Grandpa!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob yelled knowing full well the direction that Grandpa’s comment would eventually take! “Enough already.”
Livvy smiled her broad smile, looking up at Grandpa through a blue haze of cigarette smoke as he was about to speak. She snuffed the cigarette out on the edge of the coffee table.
“Aw you need to relax Son. Anyway, I’m going to head back into my hole now. I’m going to watch a Corner Gas marathon on the TV.”
“See ya later!”- said Livia, “You coming up outta that hole of yers for dinner Grandpa?”
“Give me a call when it’s ready Livvy.”
With that Grandpa disappeared down the stairs and back into his hole.
“Mama, if you don’t need me, I have an underwear catalogue to browse through and a piano keys to pound, remember?”
“I git yer drift Son.” Mama winked at Billy-Joe-Bob as she pulled a knot from a string of coloured lights on her lap.
Jimmy-Joe Bob turned on the spot, heaved a heavy sigh and with a smile on his face and a noticeable bulge in his jeans, headed upstairs to his cozy, little attic room.
“Have fun Jimmy-Joe-Bob”- called Mama, “and remember if you play with it hard enough…”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob interrupted her-
“I know Mama. I know. If I play with it hard enough the neighbours next door will hear the piano too.”
Mama smiled broadly as she continued unwinding the light strings on her lap. As she did so, she thought about lighting up another smoke. She also thought about Christmas Day and smellin’ that Turkey roastin’ in the oven!
Posted by Rob Reid at 7:49 AM
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Someone stole my Christmas decorating idea!
You see, I have colourful little Crack Pipes hanging on my tree.
Now, I see where someone has designed this little glass figurine with a pipe attached.
Is nothing sacred?
Now, I’ll have to think of something different and de-decorate.
|Xmas Sweater anyone?- Only $79.99|
The Ford Saga continues- although not as out there in the media as it has been these past few months. I expect one of these days Ford will open his mouth to insert a big fat foot.
I feel sorry for that Toronto Star reporter Daniel Dale.
I understand how he feels. He needs to set the record straight and try to make Ford pay
for his buffoonishness.
I don't think he should have sued.
Now, he's being flagged as a whole bunch of things by the right-leaning papers and media.
The National Post and Conrad Black are nailing poor Daniel.
Now, Black is saying that he didn’t think Ford meant that Mr. Dales was the “P” Word.
Most everyone who saw the interview or read the transcript thought Ford meant it- so why not Connie?
Connie was most nasty- not only to Mr. Dale but especially to the Star in general.
This from a former convict too. Although he says as a convicted whatever-he-was, he was able to show the American justice system a thing or two.
Just what the Hell is he doing back in our country anyway?
He gave up his Canadian citizenship to become a British Lord. You know that as Canadians we can’t hold a British Title and remain Canadian- don’t you?
So, of Liz calls you up one day to make you a Lord or Lady, you’ll have to politely decline if you want to remain “true north strong and free”.
So Connie- after he serves time in Yankeedom, comes crawling back.
No, were not welcoming him back as a Canadian but he’s here and has a TV show thanks to Moses.
Not the biblical guy- the Media guy.
Gee, can't these newspapers play nice?
In a day when their profits are dwindling something has to change.
How about- The Toronto Star…Toronto’s Nicest Paper!
What about “The Globe and Smile”
“The National Nonsense of Fun and Posts”
|Stick this on your tree and smoke it!|
I wish our papers just reported the news, never mind the "right/left side” of politics.
That's all that's mentioned anymore.
We become more like America every day.
Getting back to Daniel. I would- if I were him, let the fatman hang himself by himself.
There's still time and I believe he will.
After all it is the Holiday Season and we have to believe.
We believe in one Fat Fellow already who spreads his Joy, gifts and love.
I am sure that the other one will come through with more monkeyshies...eventually.
Posted by Rob Reid at 9:47 AM
Friday, December 6, 2013
My Dears I am feeling absolutely “Divine” these days what with Christmas and all.
At the Palais Royal- just on the outskirts of town, we have several trees all decked in the brightest of trimmings. Even Roger my Head Poolboy and his lovely Hubbie Xavier have a tree next to the Indoor Pool all decorated with goggles, nose plugs and tiny Speedos. Up on top they have crafted an angel wearing the face of Mr. Hugh Jackman.
I must say that is so sweet My Dears.
I really must.
Those two adorable, furry bears- at least prior to their body trims, know how much your Royal Dame’s heart goes all a flutter at the mere mention of Mr. Jackman’s name-let alone looking at his adorable Aussie face.
Christmas is brimming here at the Palais and why shouldn’t it be. Tis the Season after all.
Don’t you just adore the scent of fresh bows of Cedar and Pine? I just had some B.C. Cedar shipped in from the West especially for the Holidays. It looks so nice stuffed along the mantles and over top doorways. It’s like living in a forest without the worry of having little critters pooping on your Dame’s rugs.
The crystal is all polished and the silver looks absolutely marvelous. Doris has been busy making sure everything looks all sparkly here at the Palais because Holiday Visitors could drop by at any minute.
They really could my Dears.
I Mean that.
I really do.
Oh but if you plan on dropping in, do call ahead- won’t you?
Hedda my best girlfriend and I took a stroll through the marvelous little Downtown recently to pick up a few little items. We were thinking of zipping over to Paris for a weekend of shopping and looking at the lights, however, we botha greed that anything that we could possibly find in Paris was certainly available Downtown in your little burg. The shops are looking quite festive and people are all smiles. My Dears I don’t know how you little people do it. You barely have two matches to strike together and you are all out there spending, spending , spending trying to make your dreary little lives just a little more merry. Why if Darling little Mr. Dickens were here today he would certainly have a sequel to his adorable tale of poor folks-A Christmas Carol Too!
My Dears, Credit Cards were made so we could avail ourselves of Air Miles and extra warranties on electronic equipment. No Darlings, I didn’t read that in some exclusive little Trade Magazine, I heard it from Rudy- my Chauffeur. Well the warranty part at least. I of course use air miles whenever I can to save a few nickels. Yes Darlings-even your Dameness can be frugal if the mood swing hits her!
Anyway, Rudy says when you people buy what he calls “Big Ticket” items, you can charge it on your little cards and then if the item becomes lost, stolen or breaks down, you Darlings can have it replaced. Now, that is so cute. However, why you just don’t just throw the object away and buy another is well beyond me.
I mean that My Dears.
I really do.
Oh Dear, look at the time. I am having a new Christmas gown or two fitted and I must run. Your Dame must be prepared to look her best at this Festive Time.
Oh, just before I close My Dears, it would be appropriate to tell you little “Christmas Chipmunks” to be ever so careful this Yuletide. No toasting the season and then jumping into your sweet little Fords and Chevrolets to drive home and sleep it off. Also those cute little trees you purchase from corner lots need water to keep them alive and fresh- unlike your Dameness who just needs Smirnoff Vodka.
Well Darlings, Fah Lah Lah Lah Lah!
Posted by Rob Reid at 6:50 AM