Oops. I managed to delete this post.
No great story behind this, unfortunately. No lawsuits, no threatening phone calls, no late-night tech support, just a boneheaded click on the wrong button.
Now the comments below are completely out of context. Neat :)
So, sorry, but have a look at some of the other stuff around here. The archives in the sidebar at the right, I mean. Or do a search for a titillating term.
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Attention: Councillor Kyle Rae,
Sir,
With all due respect, you’re a jerk. I’ve enclosed a reduced photo of you to demonstrate this fact. To you.
I wake up to Bill Carroll on CFRB every morning. I could wake up to The Edge or CHIN but I don’t. Do you know why? Because I don’t necessarily enjoy the music. Or understand the words. But not because I think that the audience are skanks! Or whatever it is that you were implying:
“And the cruel vengeance of fate is he has to talk to the listeners of CFRB.”
I understand that you and Mr. Tory, to whom you were referring, may have had some political encounters in the past. However, your trysts had nothing to do with me or CFRB’s audience. Spiteful public jealousy does not behoove a politician, sir. And if you have a problem with John talking to us, take it up with him!
Disregards,
Patrick
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Dear Bill Carroll,
Sir,
With all due respect, oh no! I can’t believe they’re moving you to 9 a.m. I mean, great that you get to wake up later and have a longer time slot, but I’m not sure about this John Moore fellow that’s replacing you. (I’ve enclosed a photo of him looking rather menacing — he says he doesn’t like cats!)
I hope he can muster the same incensed outbursts at, well, anything like you can. I doubt he’ll be able to evoke the same enraged, torch-bearing, city-razing rabble that your rants do during my struggle with consciousness.
Will he be able to adopt the same seething indignation at even the most inane topics like you, Mr. Carroll? And I hope you take this as the compliment it is, but your hair-trigger City Hall temper is awe-inspiring. Sir, you are a champion. I would name my cat after you but Oliver Carroll sounds too Dickensian.
Perhaps one day, when this nutty day job of mine is behind me, I can set set my alarm to nine o’clock and wake up refreshed and angry like I used to. Until then, I’ll wearily hold your memory in a petulant little piece of my heart.
Blubberingly,
Patrick
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Dear Tess Kalinowski,
Madam,
With all due respect, what the hell?! I was ready with that Toronto subway post a couple of days ago; where were you?! I thought we were supposed to put them both up at the same time. You know, cross-promotion; I link to your story and you link to mine. That was the plan.
But no, I guess your story on the new Sheppard West subway station design was more important.
It could have been so poignant, your spanky new airport terminal of a station against my musty old Bloor-Danforth ones. Mix in a couple of the Transit Commission’s screw-ups like the new transit maps with all the errors, and the under-priced monthly pass that’s losing them money, and we could’ve caused a tidal wave in the media! Think of the brouhaha that this would’ve started. We could’ve singlehandedly taken down the entire Commission!
Now we’ve lost our window of opportunity. It’s best if you disavow any knowledge of me. Pity you chose the route you took; you’ll always be just a transportation reporter.
Regretfully,
Patrick
I met my superintendent outside my building as I was coming home yesterday and, I dunno if I mentioned this already but, he’s going to be leaving soon. We got to talking about what he’d be doing once he left and, despite the fact that he’s pushing seventy, he’s still lugging paint cans around and mowing the lawn with one of those mechanical push mowers. It’s amazing when you think about it – and even when you don’t; by that age I’ll be lucky if I’m breathing on my own let alone doing yard work. In fact, I’m already planning my daily diaper soiling regimen now; “plan ahead” is my motto.
What struck me as even more amazing was the fact that his girlfriend (considerably younger than he is), dropped by my place with an Austrian beer and an offer for me to take over as superintendent. Me! Can you imagine?! –* sip
I said I’d think about it. And then I thought about it.
On day one I’d be fishing snakes out of the pipes. I don’t know how they’d get there, who they’d belong to, or even why they’d all be venomous, but I just know it would happen.
“I’ve had it with these motherfuckin’ snakes in this motherfuckin’ drain!”
Day two would involve a fire.
There would be no day three.
No, I don’t think I’m cut out for that job. Also, having everyone’s keys readily available would be too much temptation.
Jobs like that should go to someone like this:
This is Pam McConnell. She’s the city councillor for ward 28, of which I am apparently a member. In this ward, the Gardiner is named a little differently, and council gets the job done! Just read between the halftone.
I know I’m going straight to hell for stating the following and, although I don’t intend to be mean, it’s also out in plain sight.
To begin with, I’m sure that Pam’s days on the dating circuit are probably over. I suspect she’s married and she’s probably on top in the bedroom – she da boss! Her clothes scream full-figured comfort and looking at her face always imbues me with a sense of motherly warmth.
In other words, Pam got to where she is through intelligence and insight, not through looks or a bitchin’ beehind. I suppose she could have connections but if she’s in any way tied up in shady dealings, that’s even cooler.
Pam puts out a quarterly newsletter which she crams full of the major photo-ops of the past few months. Here is a sampling:
She really is cute, isn’t she?
And look at all the shit she’s accomplishing. I mean, Regent Park used to be a scary place, but there’s a lot of community involvement and genuine re-building going on there. That little woman’s out there kicking asses and taking names.
I really hope that one day I catch her somewhere around St. Lawrence Market and persuade her to let me snap a picture of us together. Perhaps shaking hands, perhaps not; I don’t know if I’ll be able to contain myself. I’m already giddy!
I guess it’s just because she’s the kind of politician one could get behind, you know what I mean?
No, not in that way, even though that would be a great picture!
... with pictures
... with sounds
... with videos
... with opinions
... that's shorter
... that's longer