The line ups to the washroom and the popcorn concession took forever! Three weeks in fact.
In reality, I didn’t have enough tech info with me at the cabin to be able to access my blog.
My royal consort just got a new iPad Pro, so we should be able to figure out how I can post from the great white north. And when I say we, I mean asking our brilliant tech friends how to do it.
Thanks for hanging in and not hitting the unsubscribe button.
FYI – the heat and biting insects are atrocious up north.
So, the saran wrap and blue magic marker tech didn’t quite work.
Of course, I am referring to Ontario driver licence plates, which have been peeling off for years. The 3M company was contacted and basically denied there was a problem. And it is our responsibility to pay to have them replaced. They are only guaranteed for five years.
The old ones used to last forever, but now we live in the wonderful new ‘green’ economy where everything has a profit motive.
And a landfill problem, because things made like crap don’t last. The fancy term is planned obsolescence, which should be spelled planned obscene-escence. The concept is thought to have originated with the head of General Motors in the 1920’s. Here is how it works. Read it for a glimpse into the society we are all trapped in, and how we are routinely separated from our money in the revolving door of consumerism.
There is a lot of gloating that comes from the lips of my northern acquaintances. People who live two and a half hours north of the big, bad city love to watch the news to hear about the daily shootings and stabbings in the city, and report it to us with manic glee.
Conveniently deleting all the news stories about the drunken morons in boating, hunting and snowmobile deaths in the north.
Violence and stupidity are no respecters of lattitude and longitude.
It’s too bad, because it is prettier up north, and it would be so nice to have a place to go where everything is just the way you want it to be. I guess that’s why we hope there is a heaven.
Toronto should change the official colours of the city flag from blue, white and red to orange and black, to match the millions of pylons that are on every fricking street, making travel in this city an annoying nightmare.
I probably missed an investment opportunity by failing to buy the stock of the company that makes them.
Our mayor has committed over a billion dollars for ‘infrastructure improvements’ like re-paving roads that don’t need it while ignoring roads with gaping holes and crumbling pavement that are crying out for new asphalt.
The province of Ontario is over 300 billion in debt, but can magically print another billion to give to asphalt, pylon and cement companies. That’s what I want for my birthday: the machine they use to print money to spend on things that you never have to pay back. The bills are sent to somebody else – the taxpaying dupe.
And I would use some of my magic money to put ads on the back of buses admonishing YOU to Get Out Of Debt, while I spend myself into oblivion, without a thought for the future. Just like they do.
She got a raise. After tax deductions and new user fees (euphemism for taxes) on other services, she was able to take the family to Swiss Chalet once this year.
The government gave us a tax break. We bought a pair of socks with the windfall.
It is the tragic absurdity of it that I find funny.
Predators still roam the world, but now they wear suits over their scales.
There was a weird label on a snowbrush I bought for the car last winter.
Warning: Cancer and Reproductive Harm.
And then a website for more information, which was quite pointless since I had already purchased it.
Do you think the Manufacturing Industrial Complex is maybe a bit out of control? Why do they need to add something that causes cancer to something as innocuous as a snow brush?
What about a nice old fashioned wooden handle and nylon bristles and no cancer threat?
The food supply is no better. I have a fridge magnet with the slogan:
“Try Organic Food…or as your grandparents called it, “Food”.
So many things are just ludicrous.
Since everyone with a car now qualifies to be a cab driver, it was only a matter of time when everyone with a cell phone is now a police officer. You too can be woken up in the middle of the night to fight the crime of child abduction.
Those alerts are virtue signalling gone mad. Like a horror movie, our phones scream at us to care about someones plight that we can’t do anything about.
Why stop there? Make it global. Amber alerts for missing children in Iraq. Or amber alerts for missing dentures. Nobody deserves a restful nights sleep when the world is awash with so many problems.
I’m going to buy an old fashioned alarm clock. And my hope is that the police will go back to old fashioned policing – where it was their job, not ours.
Not all driving schools offer government-approved beginner driver education programs.Ontario ministry of transportation
Now, as a general rule, I’m not a fan of government interference, but one would think that driving schools might actually benefit from imposed standards.
We have all witnessed the graduates from the various deluded moron schools of driving. The bashi-bazouks who chose “There is No Blind Spot Driving Academy”, or “Black Ice is a Racist Myth School of Driving”, or “Grand Theft Auto Driver Education”.
It’s only thousands of pounds of metal at high speeds – what could go wrong?
Typical bureaucrats. You need a permit to pave your driveway, but driving schools are unregulated.
Years ago, a car accident site was nicely cleaned up and the roadways were pristine once again. Now, the alarming trend is to see nice little debris fields of broken glass and shards of metal, just left on the pavement. Like a shrine.
I thought perhaps tow trucks didn’t carry a broom on board any more. But no, the detritus is gathered together, but not picked up. It is dust pans they lack.
But perhaps it is all for our own good. As we drive over the remnants of the sadly departed windshield and blow out our tires, it adds to the GDP of our great nation.
Here is a 2 minute video from 1968 about the GDP .
A friend of mine is really smart, but she had a moron moment. The bbq tank would invariably run out in the middle of the beer can chicken dinner, and it would be so frustrating to have to go to the gas station, get a new propane tank, drive home and attach the new tank to the bbq. This happened for years, until one day, she was talking to her brother, and he said “We just keep an extra tank on hand in the back yard.”
Even if you are super smart, you can still have episodes of lucid stupidity.
P.S. When someone says “a friend of mine”, your mind should automatically ask “is it you?”