ROBBLOG #274

Here I am sitting in front of my keyboard with no idea what I am going to write for my Blog today.

It’s not a question of having nothing to write about.
I do.

I would like to write about friends who ignore what you say. For whatever the reason, pretending that what you're doing is of little importance. The best way to show you that is to ignore you.
Put some space between them and you.
Simply pretend that something doesn’t exist- like the orange cat in Alice in Wonderland.

I would like to write about that charming little gal who slipped a Harper sign into Parliament the other day. A 21 year old who is frightened and concerned for our country’s future. A young lady who knows that Harper is the Devil and understands that he doesn’t speak for Canada or the majority of Canadians. Just 40% of voters chose one of his candidates.

Yet he wins.

Then there’s all the other Canadians who simply ignored, couldn’t make up their mind or just decided to stay home on election day. Not only does Harper not speak on their behalf but those who didn’t vote have no right to say anything about what happens in the House of Commons for at least the next 4 years- unless Harper really does something to ruffle the feathers of Canadians. In that case the Governor General- David Johnson, would step in. I’m not sure if that has ever happened before.

I would like to write about how I sustain myself with a bunch of Conservatives holding the front row seats in our government? I think about Jack Layton's hansome face just across the floor from the Harperites. I am glad that this province- Ontario, is still strongly Liberal- in core values and day to day living. It must fry Mr. Harper’s Alberta Butt that he lives in a province that is provincially strongly Liberal and by the looks and sounds of things with Mr. Hudak leading the provincial Tories, it will probably stay that way. Unless of course the Liberals neglect to inform Ontarians that it was the Mulroney Conservatives who brought in the GST to our land and the Harperites that sent millions to Mr. McGuinty to help “smooth” over the rough spots in combining the GST and PST into the HST. It was a Conservative push.

I would like to write about the young people who congregate on the grassy hill at Couchiching Beach Park and at the end of the day simply leave all their garbage behind.
Where are the Parks and Rec people?
Where are the Bylaw Officers?
The Police?
Why do these young misfits not care about leaving their garbage behind? The hill area and the beach need to be fenced in with security guards keeping an eye. It’s everyone’s park not just these crummy kids and we need to have all our rights protected. Every summer we lose our park to these youngsters who not only little but cuss and swear and scream and shout but won’t move an inch when you try to pass by on foot, rollerblades or bicycle.

Finally, I would like to write about the number of empty buildings in Orillia. Downtown, at the exits and entrances to our City, along residential streets, next to our parks and waterfront and next to businesses trying to make a living. We are a community of broken down and abandoned buildings with storefronts covered in mouldy, faded newspapers- or cardboard, complete with water stains. Then there’s still others with gigantic sheets of plywood or blue tarpaulins covering everything from roofs to windows to doorways.

So that’s it. That’s what I wanted to write about sitting here in front of a keyboard not knowing what I was going to write about today.

ROBBLOG # 273 W E E K E N D Edition

Litter is always a problem.

People who litter are the root of the littering problem.
Yesterday, some lovely little high school student tucked an empty bag of Lay’s chips into a plant at the front of our property.

How thoughtful of the little bugger! Shove it into the foliage of a plant so it wouldn’t blow down the street and yet stay hidden from the eye’s of passerby. Wasn’t that just thoughtful now? I wonder who put him up to that.
Let’s see….
Could it have been…

THE DEVIL?

SATAN?

OLD BEEALZUBUB???

Or all three?
Isn’t that special of the young man who offered up his litter to the world.
(Thank You Church Lady!)

I know it’s a young man littering- although the young women with their proliferation of foul language could be to blame too. As a matter of fact, a few weeks ago I was sitting here writing at my computer, when I was drawn into a conversation between two Valley Girls- they must have lived towards the south end of the valley- judging by their accents. They were cussing and dishing all manner of people from teachers, to boys and fellow lady students too. They walk along the sidewalk on the north side of our house, past a window at my back and that’s when I become part of the conversation. Then, down the sidewalk a few feet and their annoying nasal twang floats though another open window. By the time the young ladies reach the corner of our property, I had turned from my keyboard and was looking out the window at them.

As they turned the corner they decided it would be a shorter walk to cut across our grass between the stop sign and a maple tree. Goodness they must of saved at least half a step!
“Stay on the Sidewalk Please!”- I bellowed!
One gal asked the other-
“What did he say?”
I couldn’t hear her answer.
Before they headed back to school, I made my way to the Garden Shed to get a length of fence- about a foot tall, to stretch between the stop sign and the tree. This might deter their future detours from the sidewalk. So far it has. No path has been forged in a new direction.

Now to the boys.
I’ve seen them drinking their pop and I have found the cans or plastic water bottles lopped on our lawn or down the street on more than one occasion. When I walk the dogs past ODCVI- the high school at the end of our block, I see the same products strewn about. Chips, pop cans, water and juice bottles and tons and tons of cigarette butts.
It’s a shame.
That school is my Alma Mater. In the 60’s the grounds were well-tended.
Grass cut.
Trees pruned.
Flower beds planted.
Although there were a couple of refuse cans, the litter seemed to make it into the can, not scattered around it’s circumference on the ground like it is today.


OCI Class from early 1900's Did they litter? Not likely. Litter wasn't invented until the 1950's

A sign at the school on the West Street, North side boasts an award-winning academia programme. Great they have good marks but no concern about their environment and the shabbiness of the grounds that reflect on the entire neighbourhood. I believe if one picked up all the cigarette butts and laid them end to end, they would form a line to St Andrews/St, James Cemetery and back again- several times.

Weeds snake up between shrubbery. A crude attempt at cutting the lawn leaves flower beds- if one could call them that, looking unruly and shabby. Even though there are garbage cans and litter buckets at entrances along Borland Street East, the ground, sidewalk and edge of the street are literally covered in butts. Even the steps up to a side entrance- covered in graffiti, are really nothing more than one huge, butt-filled ashtray.

Any recourse? What’s the answer?
It’s simple.
Stop littering dammitt!

How much easier can it be? If the students are apparently so adept at learning, why does a simple action like throwing litter in its respectful place, escape them?
Is it too much of a learning curve?
Is it too adult?
Does a student lose face with peers if they pitch litter in a can instead of the ground? I should have taken a picture of the West Street sign with the High School’s entrance in the background- the entrance where tulips fight for prominence with calf-high weeds. Where is the Simcoe County School in regards to this? Isn’t caring for the environment today a simple message?
Maybe there’s no money in the budget.
I would like to check out the exterior of Barrie High Schools. I wonder if they are well-cared for. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.
It doesn’t take an Ontario Scholar to see that a change of attitude is needed. At least in Orillia. I say get a Bylaw officer and charge ‘em. Let the parents pay a hefty fine and see if there’s progress.

Oh yes, while we’re still talking environment, another gentle reminder-

“Stop littering on the street where I live- Dammitt!!”

ROBBLOG # 272

Do We Really Care?...Really?

Some days there are just so many little things that individually none of them make up an entire blog. So here are a few items to teensey-tiny to make up a full Blog.

1. Canada Post is warning us they are going to strike. Hmmm. Like do we really care? I mean really? My bills come online. I never get a letter. Seldom a postcard. Just advertising and some letters- almost daily, from the bank telling us how rich we aren’t! So get out there and strike all through the long, hot summer. Enjoy the fires you startin those big barrels at the checkpoints you set up. I mean if you did a half-decent job I’d be there with you but with the exception of our sub post office in a nearby Shoppers Drug Mart, your customer service stinks- not you Ben!

2. A boy was voted Prom Queen at his High School. He dressed as Lady Gaga to receive the crown.      Ho-Hum.

3. They’re talking about ripping down the old Sundial Restaurant in Orillia. Again?

4. Summer’s here and the young smart-alec assholes and assorted sluts are walking the park again. They’re screaming “Fuck” at the top of their lungs, and forcing us “oldsters” to endure the rough talk (like I can’t stream an impressive string of cusswords together) as we squeeze past them on the boardwalk. As we walked near the parking lot at the north end of Couchiching Beach Park we noticed two “young ladies” sunning in bikinis atop a black pickup truck’s black cap. Right away these young ladies should realize- no advertising needed. You sun on the top of a pickup truck on bikinis and you’re instantly entered in the “Slut Parade”. Yeeeee Haaaawww.

5. Now with this item we may care- but it’s a “we can’t do anything about it unless we take the bus”- which is tough to do crossing the Atlantic or Pacific. situation. As if air fares aren’t staggeringly high enough, airlines around the world including our beloved Air Canada and upstart WestJet, find was to charge passengers extra. For instance in 2009, Air Canada ranked eighth worldwide, charging passengers for this and that- like food. They hauled in $743.7 million in extra revenue. Air Canada also ranked in the top 10 that year for what is called “ancillary revenue per passenger”.
Since then Air Canada doesn’t release figures these days. Hmmm. Must be terribly lucrative this ancillary passenger revenue. This is the same airline that pays its CEO millions. He’s received something like a thousand percent raise in recent years as employees are still held to cutbacks and are having pension plans threatened.
What about little old WestJet? Although smiles and onboard giddiness abound- I hear pilots are regular comedians, they make some extra cash by charging passengers for a second bag.

6. Sir Conrad Black may go back to jail after losing another appeal. Do we really care. For God’s sake just let the man go. We get it already. Even billionaires can go to jail Geesh!

7. A Doctor has told Amy Winehouse to stop drinking or die. She was too drunk to understand. Do we really care?...and just who the hell is Amy Winehouse?


God Hates FAGS?

8. In the wonderful United States of America, a country that all other worldly countries wish to emulate and 90% of Canadian want to be citizens of, the KKK is now protesting against the protesters namely that Baptist Church that hangs out at funerals with those huge signs “God Hates Fags”. Talk about two nothings getting together to make even more nothing. Well it keeps them busy. Isn’t it just the least bit strange that the KKK still exists in America. I daresay if one looks far enough one could find a chapter or two in say- Alberta!! Do we really care? I guess not. At least we try to believe we don’t…

9. Oh Dear. Do we really care? Comedian Andy Dick has been charged with hitting a patron of a comedy club- where he was performing, straight in the face. Wait for it…
With his penis!

10. The NHL returns to Winnipeg. Do we really care? Just an excuse to drink beer and spit it on the fan in the seat in front of you. Charming.

ROBBLOG # 271

What To Do When There’s Nothing To Do?

For those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer when you have plenty of idle time- unless you’re watching the grass grow, I offer you a compendium of meaningless activities.

1. Make a video of a mosquito sucking blood from your forearm and upload it to You Tube.

2. Google “Cannibalism among British Blue Bloods”. Yup, Royals used to feast on the lower classes with the notion that they could sidestep disease- unless of course the “meal” had the plague or something. Even at beheadings the lower-classes folk would sop up the blood for a late night beverage hoping to attain some of the Royal vigour. You know, on second thought, just leave it be.

3. Call someone from the telephone book- or 411 online, just to ask them if their refrigerator is running. If they answer- yes...you say- well ya better go catch it then!
Juvenile, I know…

4. Construct a dartboard with the Prime Mister’s face on it and then….naw! It’s too easy.

5. Take up axe-throwing as a hobby and practise in a nearby park on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

6. Lose a few unwanted pounds. Go on the “Eat Only What You Kill Diet”.

7. Makeup a new law something like- You can’t have Sex with your partner- if they’re unconscious. Wait, the Supreme Court in Ottawa just covered that one? Nevermind.

8. Strap yourself to the top of the CN Tower and walk around its perimeter…Excuse me?
What’s that? You’re kidding. They’ve already thought about that one? Who knew?

9. Invite a few friends to an elegant sit-down dinner and serve KFC’s Double Down as the entre.

10. Drive to a “strip mall” and take your clothes off while you shop.

If you feel you’d like to add to the list, send me an e-mail. Meanwhile, never say you never have nothing to do.

ROBBLOG #270 W E E K E N D Edition

What are you doing October 21st?
(sung to the tune of What Are You doing New Year’s)

Two blogs ago… I had some things to say about Judgement Day which by the way has now been moved to October 21st.

On Monday Mr. Camping told the world- “I made a goof. When I took the Virgin Mother’s birthday and multiplied it by Mary Magdalene’s cup size and Lazarus’s dick size, I came up short.
So did Lazarus by the way.
Look he says.

If you read the blog before the last one you’ll know all about Jeff! He always starts an important thought with the word “look”! It’s supposed to make you pay attention.

Look- the Rapture, the Menopause, the Toothache, whatever you want to name it, is a falsehood. All that biblical stuff that many of you on your plane believe is all invalid.
Hogwash.
A lie.
A fabrication.
But I have “faith” you say.
Hey you all have faith when you sit comfortably strapped into your seat on a Boeing 777, confident that all that metal, cloth, glass and seats are going to lift off and take you 35 thousand feet into the air. Now that is real faith that results in success every time.

Well you say, what about the word of God that God himself wrote down in the Bible?
Yuh see folks, here is where it all starts to fall apart.
That’s Jeff talking…again.

Goodness, Jeff is really taking over this blog. Usually he stays more in the background. He must be pissed!

Many people say that they are faithful to the bible no matter what- even though some goody-two-shoe’d minister of Christ is sitting pretty with all their money while he sits in party-heaven with not a care in the world. This guy doesn’t have to order the lunch special ladies and gentlemen- he can order anything he wants right off the menu. He’s that rich and he pulls each and every one of his followers in and stomps on them- figuratively speaking- then takes their money.

Wahhhh. Wahhhh. Wahhhh. Some idiot follower of this Judgement Day quack says-
That’s Jeff again…

“I'm still faithful to the Bible, because the Bible is the only word of God, we can trust what the Bible says, not what men say.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph- a nice story by the way, the freeking Bible is just a book of stories- some terrifying, all written by mortal man. Men who needed a shave and stank of years and months of sweat- particularly around their festering private areas,

...again, that’s Jeff- not me…

sitting around a table swilling red wine, thinking about a lusty pair of big, shiny prosti-tuty tits, all the while pretending they were hearing Holy words from the Heavenly Father- just like the Pope and every Mormon on this earth- except for Mormon women of course, who just don’t count.
At all!

...ummm. That was…you get the idea. Onward Jeffery!

Some half-decent writers over the years scrawled on papyrus and sheep hides, little tales of figures like the one about Moses who lived to be 400- really? 400?- and led a parade of souls across the desert for 40 odd years. Hence, the name of the plant Wandering Jew that trickles and cascades from pots that hang in kitchen windows across the country- or pot at least.

Like George Michael says- who gets his jollies from the aforementioned “pot” or from men hiding behind trees in dark parks or sitting in cars in sparsely lit parking lots, “…You’ve Got to Have Faith.”

That’s what your life- your association to some Heavenly Creature comes from.
Faith.
You can’t argue with Faith.
I hear you try all the time.

Those of you who believe in a benevolent, loving God who on one hand you believe wants to clutch you to his bosom and who on the other hand would just as soon smite you- even though you turn the other cheek, dropping you to the ground where he can kick you into submission or at least pour huge buckets of a melted alloy such as silver or gold over your head as your brain and face melt, just to make you conform- and believe.
(I think that was from a Televison show. Someone poured hot, liquid metal over someone’s head. To be truthful. I couldn’t watch.)

Oh grow some! Pouring hot, liquid metal over someone’s head is infinitely less cruel than being nailed up for a day or so in the hot afternoon sun while crows and flies eat away at your flesh.

…Ahhh, Jeff, is this necessary?.......OK. OK! You’re the guide. You’re over there and I’m still here…

Conform.
Look,

Uh-oh here he goes again…

This God some of you believe in on your plane, loves people who conform. Here on this level we don’t believe in that word- conform.
You are who you are.
You do what you do.
Some people just do “it” better than others.
Let’s face it why, would anyone bow down and praise a beast who wants to tell you what part of his anatomy you can kiss and when- if you don’t believe.
Figuratively speaking, I mean.

...~ahem~ that’s Jeff…

The same Spiritual figure who’s people (followers) say one man should not shove his “hoo-haw” into any orifices belonging to another man. However, it’s quite alright to shove a bullet in a gun and make a new orifice in a man.
Semantics.

Okay, Jeff. I’m not sure that he thinks that is right- some of his followers do and they look to the verse- an eye for an eye, to make it alright. Look. People. Just relax. Have a good time until you join us on this plane. There are not a lot of rules here.
As we say on this side-
“Rules are just guidelines for stupid people!”

By the time you get here- no matter how much time you spend there, you pretty much get it.
What’s that saying you folks carve into rocks on your summer patios and gardens?
Oh yes…
Live. Laugh. Love.
Truer words people!

Now it’s my turn.
Finally.
Judgement Day is just another day- like Saturday was, I suppose. Now Mr. Camping and those of his ilk will have to devise another “holy” way to rip off followers of their hard-earned money.

In the meantime, let’s set our sights on the next crisis.

Jeff says- Oh you mean the Mayan Prophecy that the end of the world is December 12, 2012?

No Jeff Dear, like the fact that Tim Horton’s has raised their coffee prices…again.

ROBBLOG #269

I fully intended to give your Part II of the previous blog today. It’s called “What are You doing October 21st?” sung to the tune of “What Are You Doing New Years?” but I have decided to let that blog wait for another day.

You see I watched the final Oprah show. The Farewell.
First off, I really like the lady. I admire the empire she has created and for doing a TV show for 25 years that has ultimately spun off into her own Television Network here in Canada.

I’m just not a daily fan of her show. I tuned in to the final show because I am a sucker for emotion played out “live” on stage. I wanted to see how a powerful woman- like Miss Winfrey, would say goodbye to the millions of viewers who helped to built her empire. I didn’t see the big goodbye played out a week ago in that huge arena. I haven’t seen a picture, much less a video of the performance.
Performance you say?
Yes.
Performance.
That’s exactly what it was both last week and today- The Final Farewell.
She is an actress after all.
She’s a star.
Bette Davis would have done the exact same thing- if she had of had her own show.

What Oprah did and said was extremely heartfelt, only it was scripted and played to a hand-picked audience just the same.
Am I faulting her for that?
What?
Me with only 2 dollars and ninety-five cents in the bank and a fledging radio station and website?
Not on your life!
I envy her the power of the words she spoke.
I envy her, her life.
Her position.
Her money.
After all that’s what it’s really about- isn’t it?
She’s comfortable.
She can pay the bills. That’s what we all want and try to do on a daily basis.
Just once I wanted her to jump up and down and say-

“Heeh Hah. I am rich, rich, rich. I love it. I love being rich.Thank You!!”

She can effectively make us all sob our hearts out as she says goodbye…
Yes. That’s right. I teared up too.
She looked so sweet in pink. I am sure it was a tough show to get through.
Like a funeral- only a happy kind of sad.

So she makes us feel all fuzzy.
She even mentioned – The Gays!
Bye Oprah ~sob~.
Goodbye lovely Oprah ~sob~
How will we get through our days without you?
Dunno.


Oprah- Pretty in Pink (Ho/Reuters Photo)

 Does she care?
She told you how to do it. Weren’t you listening?
She said- It’s your life. Get out there and do it and live it.
Okay.
Maybe you don’t have the money she does and maybe you can’t do something on such a grand scale but if you want to be a TV host for example, approach the local cable outlet and do a show. You could host a show on Swisssh Radio. I always say speaking on Swisssh Radio beats opening a window and yelling up the street. Much more civilized.

Oprah said you have the power to do it all.
Start a club.
Write a show and perform it.
Write a book and sell it.

Maybe Jesus didn’t come to earth on Saturday because he wanted to see what Oprah had to say first. Now he’s been upstaged. Don’t expect him for a good while.

What would I have learned from Oprah if I had of been a regular viewer?
I think to put my name on everything!
Wait a minute. I 've been doing that. Just look at the top of this website-
"Rob Reid's Swisssh!"
Enough said.

So, the audience was profoundly sad because Oprah was leaving.
Did you expect less?
I’ll bet almost everyone watching shed a tear or two when she walked away, head and hands held high.
It was an Oprah Revival Meeting.
She’s like Lazrus. She’ll rise again and be there to give away cars and books and pies.

By the way, when she was leaving, didn’t she seem kind of cool with Stedman- her man-friend, after he hugged her? Didn’t she just kind of squeeze away from him.
“Sorry Sted…I have hands to shake and accolades to get. See you at brunch. Oh and walk the dog will you?”

A final question.
Just where in the hell does everybody think she’s going?
She has her own bloody network for Goodness sake. She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.
(oops….that green-eyed monster shows its ugly face again!)
She has a Magazine named after her.
She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.
She produces Broadway Shows.
She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.
She can have a new show any time she likes.
She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.
She could sit by a pool in Beverly Hills every day for the rest of her life and ruminate.
She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.
She could get a facial and massage every day of every week.
She doesn’t need the Oprah Show.

Most of what she said was true and insightful.
Then she used her powerful position to preach.
There is a God says Oprah. It took her five minutes but that’s what she meant. I’m paraphrasing here but she said something like- He’s been with me every day of my life and he picked me for glory.
That bit didn’t sit well with me.

Listen to the small voice she said and if you don’t, it will get bigger. I believe she could have said- I believe in God- and left it at that but she started to preach. It believe it could have been her second calling.
I’ll bet you that thousands of women will attend church this Sunday just because Oprah told them what she believed and that- in a sense, God helped her become rich and powerful.
Oprah and I have some things in common.
She was born in Mississippi, as a black woman. A two fold minority-
Black and a woman. She had to move to the big city to be who she was meant to be.

Me, I was born here in Orillia.
Gay and…well, let’s just leave it at being Gay.
That’s been hard enough.
Of course, I too had to move to the big city just to be me.
I’m not black but I tan very well.

I’d be on that “God-fearing turnip cart” tomorrow if I thought it would make me rich and famous and stir people’s thoughts and minds.
I am shallow.
I agree.
I’ve said that in public. In my one man show a few years ago. It’s not secret. I have to be reasonable.

Now, it’s not God who helped the Big “O”.
She did it all by herself.
I can see it in her eyes.
She’s a special person.

Have you ever really looked at Oprah’s eyes?
They say it all. In those eyes is the power, the drive, the paying it forward part of her life she so vehemently believes in…it’s just not God.
It’s all Oprah.

She struggled.
She stayed the course.
She made the decisions.
The “voice” she heard is indeed the voice we all hear. That sometimes annoying little voice that’s always there- always in our heads. If you haven’t heard it, you simply aren’t set up for listening.
I hear it.
I hear the words.
The direction.
I know it’s an important voice from another “plane of existence” but it’s not the omnipresent God of the universe like she says it is.
You know what?
However, if it helps get you through the hours.
The days.
The years.
I am all for it.
I can’t argue with that at all.

Sometimes my voice tells me to do things I don’t want to do.
Yes, I can ignore it but most times I listen. Sometimes it encourages me to say “certain” things to other people. Sometimes I do- especially when it shouts at me.

Of the entire final hour I watched, the “God/Jesus” stuff was a bit much.
I suggest that a lady as smart as Oprah, should know that the voice within her is like a “Guardian Angel”. Someone who doesn’t necessarily pull her strings but rather someone who suggests what she could- perhaps do, in a given situation. That “voice” is there for each and every one of us. Sometimes we are standing at the checkouts at Wal*Mart and it speaks to us. It tells us to look over there and we see a familiar face.
It reminds us.
It steadies us.
It watches out for us by alerting us to the dangers ahead. It might even recite our PIN number to us in advance of paying for our merchandise. It’s different for each and every one of us but it doesn’t require public affirmation. It requires an open mind and nothing more.

I would suggest that you not think it is God but if you really, really need to call it something listen for its name. Ask it. It will tell you. If you are hoping beyond hope that the voice answers “I’m God” when you request a name, then that’s what you’ll hear.
Open your mind.
Just a little more. A little further past farther.
I listened more than 50 years ago and I have it.

As the song says- Don’t cry for me Argentina- or Canada or the UK or France or…
Oprah will be alright. She’ll miss you terribly because being the special person she is, she needs to be fed and nurtured and without you she’ll get thirsty and hungry for your attention.
All you have to do is look into her eyes.

ROBBLOG #268

Now, I don’t want to come right out and call Harold Camping- who predicted Judgement Day was to be May 21st, along with his followers- a bunch of complete assholes but until another- better word, comes along, I will.

What a bunch of assholes!
Wait.
That’s unfair! Let me re-phrase that.
They are a bunch of rich, holy assholes.
Especially Harry!

Now “harried Harry” is telling us: Oops...I meant October 21st. Yah. That’s it. Judgement Day is October 21.
Oh Boy!
Silly me. I carried the 2 and divided by 9, then added the cruxifiction and- well what the fuck!- it’s really October 21.
You can quote me on that!
Yes Sir!
Quote me all you like because I have another 5 months to come up with an even cornier reason that the world didn’t end come October 22nd.
Besides all I have to do is make some huge stickers to cover all those billboards.
The sticker could say- “Sorry. I meant October 21st”
Or
“Only kidding, I meant May 21st. Silly me, eh?”

Mr. Camping is worth millions and his ministry too, all from a radio studio (Family Radio) located on a normal city street, sandwiched between- a pizza parlour and a bong shop. He’s the “cheese” in the centre.

(I can’t remember what real businesses flanking Harold, so I made two up.)

Mr. Camping in 2009, received $18.3 million in donations and had assets of more than $104 million, including $34 million in stocks or other publicly traded securities. He’s not hurting one bit. In fact the poor guy had to take “the wife” to a hotel room on Saturday when he discovered his mistake- just to get away from people. Probably needed to give her a good “pile-driver” right in her Regina Saskatchewan to ease his pain. I believe him, whatever the truth is. Dear Mr. Camping needed to get away from people who wanted to string him up for taking all their hard-earned money- and investing it- for his ministry.
Mr. Camping works in mysterious ways.

Ya gotta know that Camping is just one hell of a regular guy. He tells us he lives in a “modest” home in California.
Ahhhh.
Really?
Look kids, his biggest worry are the earthquakes that will tumble his “modest” bungalow to the ground or the “wild fires” that will turn it to ashes.

The number one reason that Jesus Christ/God didn’t return on Saturday?
There is no such person.
He doesn’t exist.
There is no God.
Heaven is a fairy tale right up there with the Federal Conservatives.
People buy into fairy tales very easily.
They do, you say?
Yes.
40 percent of voters bought into the Harperite’s Fairy Tale and believe me the Conservative/Reform/Alliance fellas are the last of their kind who want to be standing to or considered to be part of “a fairy tale”- for obvious reasons.

Look. My spirit guides in the next level, all tell me that Camping and his sort are frowned upon- heavily, in the next existence- or plane of life.
They are laughable.
Course it’s easy to laugh after one has passed on and realize what a tough go it really is on the “earthly plane”.
It’s a fact.
In fact…
Here’s another fact.
Although he doesn’t want me to tell you, much of this blog that I am typing here- right now, is coming to me from that very plane of existence. I am being told what to type to you by one of my spirit guides.
He’s a bit cheeky and irreverent.
Let’s call him Jeff.
I...ummmm…

Jeff just called me a dickwad because as he says- “Jeff is my name, poodle –puss”.

Jeff likes to call me cute “pet names”.

Enough of this today.

Jeff will continue to put more wise words of “whatnot” into my mind and heart- on the next RobBlog.