Ottawa

I think the world will come to an end before Ottawa makes up its mind about light rail.

I think Mayor Larry will tell the truth, and he hasn't yet, before Ottawa makes up its mind to be a real capital city.

I think hell will freeze over before Ottawa does anything imaginative or exciting.

In fact...I do not believe that Ottawa actually exists.

Prinny, The Heir Apparent.

The heir apparent, the Prince of Wales, celebrated his sixtieth birthday this November 14th and the articles lauding the man are, of course, legion.

At this age he did that and at that age he did this whilst serving in this field and assisting in that.

He became this noble, and later on another kind, but then over here he is just a Duke...oh and a Duke here too.

He can fly little planes and fighter planes he is colonel-in-chief of so many regiments that he can hardly know what to do with them all.

A compulsion to achieve, driven by a desire to excel...because he will one day be king and he wants to be the best that he can be? No...he is the Queen's son...privilege steers his ship. He can do what he wants because who will deny him?

He was married to the best thing that ever happened to the Royal hive. Then he lost her because he was too stupid to marry the woman he really loved.

His family is so inbred that his sons are related, directly, to every royal arse ever to leave skid marks on the throne.

His wealth is founded upon the fortunes his ancestors stole from the people.

He never even had to pay income tax until just recently. Then to compound the insult those very people the Royals stole from paid extra taxes to support his family. And, the matriarch of that family believes that she is superior to common folk.

I have no time for the Prince; I have even less time for his family. I strongly believe the royals should all be found gainful employment and all fortunes in their possession returned to the people.

But just in case he has a spare dukedom he wishes to dispose of...Happy belated birthday Prinny.

Stale Breath

I do not understand how one can, with one enlightened breath vote for a black president then, with stale breath, vote for proposition 8.
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Remember!

A young man was sent to war by his country and he drowned in mud.

His youth was never heard of or seen again.

He died alone in the filth of humanity.

Remember! it is the very least we can do.

It's Here Again.

I am ignoring the fact that "another" election is taking place and I am tuning myself to the sounds of Festive commercialism. Carols have already begun wandering around my head just as feast plans simmer in the background.

I can see the tree laden with gifts and sparkling with magic and wonder. I can hear Santa's noisy reindeer clattering across the roof.. The kitchen awash with activity and filling the house with such marvellous smells...Warmth with my family cozied and safe.

Even the sight of my relatives makes me weepy...when will they ever leave LOL, I had to say that.

It is hear again, Christmas, and I love it...I don't care what they say.

P.S. Charest is going to win that election that I am not thinking about. :)