Thursday, April 24, 2008

Au Canada


It occurs to me (too late, on the airplane with no alternative reading material, of course) that reading a book entitled "The Cheese Monkeys" on the way to Montreal might not be a great way to ingratiate oneself with the locals.

This is a special talent of mine. The last time it happened, I was reading Al Franken's "Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them" on the way deep into the heart (well, the armpit, anyway) of Lubbock, Texas. I'm lucky I wasn't tossed off the plane headfirst into a barrel of cow dookie.

Then again, what would the Quebequois do, surrender me to death? heh. At least the book wasn't entitled "The Quebequois: Cheese-Eating Surrender Monkeys and the Soap-Dodging Wine-Guzzling Frenchies who Begat Them". That would've really been insulting. It could've been worse, I suppose, were I actually headed to FRANCE. At least Quebec is once-removed. Good thing I wasn't busted, or I surely would've been dumped into a vat of spent grape skins or worse, forced to drink Rosé wine on ice and eat bad cheese.

Ok, all you Canadian/French friends, don't get your feathers up in a kerfuffle. You know I adore Canada. (And French people. We have a mutual aversion to the bath.) Else I wouldn't keep going there and losing money on the exchange rate.

Maybe next week on my way to kickoff in San Fran I can read some neo-nazi anti-glbt propaganda and win me some friends on the left coast.


2 comments:

  1. Ha! P. has a story about how he went to a special needs kids home and inadvertantly waved at the blind kid and said hi to the deaf one.

    I just noticed yesterday that pre-op supermarket workers hate me. In Pittsburgh there was one named Wade/Sarah. I don't remember whether her nametag ever actually read Wade/Sarah, but for a while it was Wade, and then it was Sarah. I think Wade/Sarah (which, in my mind I hear "Wade Slash Sarah" - hmmmm) disliked me because my boyfriend at the time was tall, hot, and had an Australian accent.

    Then yesterday I stopped by Savenor's because I had heard that they had butcher classes, and one came barrelling up to me, rage in her eyes. "Can. I. Help. You," she spat, for no apparent reason.

    iuafel (excl.): taunt to clumsy schoolchildren

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  2. Wow. That's enough to make you go veg for a while, eh?

    Damn Canadians! Infected my brain with their insidious "eh"s. Maybe I should spell it differently, like "Aye", but then that sounds like "I", doesn't it? I think I need an eyepatch to successfully use "aye" in my sentences. Whereas I only need some maple syrup or cheese to say "eh".

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