ROBBLOG #535

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead…

 

So, Pauline has gone up, up, up in a puff of smoke and her party right along with her.

That’s Good!

The best news ever since the snow started to melt and the temperature crawled above plus one.

However, like all good losers, she just can’t bow out- or burn up, gracefully, she has to get in one more dig namely- “Quebec will be a country one way of the other ~ sob, cry, sob, sniff, sob~ because our language is our culture!”

 

Piffle and le poppycock.

 

Quebec is a sum of its parts and one of its biggest parts being the fact it is a province in a country called Canada.

You’re crying Crocodile tears Pauley Darling but it’s too late to buy you a single, soggy note. So enjoy your pension stuffed with all those terrific Canadian Dollars and fly off to Florida with a carton of Export A under one arm and a case of Pepsi under the other.

Pardon?

Quoi?

Isn’t that’s a terrible thing to say- vous dites?

Anti-Quebec you say?

Non.

It’s just part of Quebec “culture”- like the Quebecois language, as seen through the eyes of Canadians living outside Quebec.

Hmmm. Maybe what you really need is an image consultant both for yourself and the Province.

 

So, gather up the twigs.

Get some rope and a box of matches- figuratively speaking of course, while we strike one for the future of Quebec and Canada.

 

Next on the agenda is seeing Justin Trudeau – a Quebecer, back in the PM’s office in Centre Block and all will be right with the world. We will even be able to go on vacation knowing the country is in good hands. How we managed to endure the past eight or so years without going to hell in a hand basket is beyond me. I guess the checks and balances that are firmly in place have kept this wonderful country of ours on the straight and narrow.

 

Just ask Mike Duffy all about that…

ROBBLOG #534

 

This could be a Happy Story for Easter...or maybe not.

Flopsy, Mopsy and Florence were three of the cutest little bunnies you would ever want to lay your eyes upon- and they couldn’t be happier.

Happy?

Happy in what way- you ask?

Why “happy” that it was springtime of course.

They were happy too that the sun was shining brightly and it was very warm.

They were happy that the green grass was so lush and soft and tasty. 

“Hey!” says Florence-“ What do you two kids want to do today?”

“I know! I know!” says Mopsy “Why don’t we run down to the creek. The new marsh grass looks so sweet and tasty.

“Naw!”- Flopsy screamed, “Let’s go down to Farmer Brown’s barnyard and eat some fresh clover growing next to the big barn door.”

“That sounds good to me.”- chimed in Mopsy.

“Me too!” says Flopsy.

“That makes three!” laughs Florence.

 

 

By now all three bunnies were laughing and giggling and slapping one another playfully on the bunny bum.

“I’ll tell Mother we are going exploring” says Florence and off she ran to the Stump House where they lived, to tell Mother of their plans.

Flopsy and Mopsy rolled in the grass waiting for Florence to return. They giggled and laughed even more.

In a couple of minutes Florence returned.

“Mother says it’s okay as long as we’re not late for lunch!” 

More giggling ensued as off they ran over the rise near their Big Stump home in the big meadow. They rolled down the hill towards the stream and crossed its fast-running water by scurrying along the trunk of a fallen tree that took them safely to the other side. 

A few minutes later they arrived at Farmer Brown’s barnyard. The three bunnies peered through the wooden fence surrounding the yard.

“There! Over there! There’s the clover right next to the door of the big red barn!”-cried Florence.

“Yummy. I can taste it already!”- screamed Mopsy.

“What fun!”- added Flopsy.

The three bunnies wiggled through the slats of the fence and scampered straight to the fresh clover growing next to the barn wall just to the right of the big wooden door. 

The bunnies ate heartily and giggled in between munching on luscious clumps of green clover.

Meanwhile, inside the cozy barn, Farmer Brown had just finished harnessing Peggy- his prized Clydesdale. He led Peggy to the barn door flinging it wide open, allowing the bright, warm sunshine to flow inside. As the door swung open on it’s gigantic, iron hinges it slapped heavily and hard against the barn’s wall, right where Flopsy, Mopsy and Florence were nibbling away on the fresh green clover. 

S M U C K. 

Now, I know of three, cute little bunnies that will never be home in time for lunch today or any day from this day forward.

 

 

 

 

 

ROBBLOG #533

Just Another Day on Bleeker Street

 

It’s a sunny, spring afternoon. A Tuesday, just past 145PM

 

Jane: Blanche, will ya just look at this?

 

Blanche: What? What is it Jane Dear? You sound upset.

 

Jane: ~puff~ puff~ Just look at this big fellah here in the picture barring his ass to the Queen.

 

Blanche: Say what, Jane Dear?

 

Jane: Here. ~puff, drag~ Look here.

 

Blanche: ~shuffles paper~ Now, let me see.

 

(pause)

 

Blanche: Oh My yes! That Beefy young man is showing his…~ahem~… bare buttocks..

 

Jane: What the (^%^ are you talking about Blanche? He’s flashing his big, bare ass!

 

Blanche: Well..it…he’s…ummmm…

 

Jane: And showing his ass to the Queen. Where’s the $%#@& respect Blanche?

 

 

Blanche: Now, Jane Dear, if you look closer you’ll see it’s not the Queen. It’s Kate…

 

Jane: Kate smate. Look at that big, disgusting, hairy thing! Look there’s writing all over it too. Probably a code of some kind.

 

Blanche: Now just settle yourself down Jane. It’s Kate the Dutchess not Queen Elizabeth and yes his behind is bare but as you can see he has covered up his front bits. It’s a costume the Maoris wear in New Zealand. He was probably dancing for her and now is just saying hello.

 

Jane: ~puff, puff~ Huh! Well, what if he didn’t wash his hands after touching his stained ass or after shoving his great big manpaws down the front of that costume- as you call it, then goes and shakes her hand. It’s still %$#&*& disgusting.

 

Blanche: ~giggle~ Yes, I suppose it could happen but I am very sure officials would make sure something like that would never happen.

 

Jane: ~puff, puff~ Well Blanche, all the same it’s disgusting. (pause) Blanche?

 

Blanche: Yes Jane?

 

Jane: I’m hungry for a big ole slab of honey ham tonight for supper. What about you?

 

Blanche: Um…I think I’ll pass. How about we order in Chinese?

 

Jane: ~drag, puff~ whatever the &%$# you think Blanche. I’ll go look for the chopsticks!