In this herp-a-derp, mile-a-minute, screwed-up-beyond-belief, world in which we live in, there comes a time when someone has to step up and clear the air. Explain the unexplainable, make sense out of nonsense, and thread the needle of confusion, with the yarn of truth. Some say only a Fool would even attempt such a thing …well, Dear Readers …that Fool is Me.
Here’s the problem….
It’s a holiday in Canada. Thanksgiving, to be exact. We celebrate it a month before Our Pants (that’s YOU, Mr. and Mrs. America) because we like to get it out of the way before the snow comes and turns our roads into slip n’ slides, our wives and girlfriends into our mothers, and ourselves (the men) into starry eyed dreamers who think the Leafs have a chance, the Blue Jays need us to manage them, and whoever our Prime Minister is, is a Poop of the Nincom variety.
My guess (always educated, never mitigated) is that the vast majority of our Canadian brethern and sistern are either just recovering from a turkey-induced tryptophan coma, or about to sit down to a bird-laden card table and ENTER a turkey-induced tryptophan coma. Either way, the result will render today’s column an afterthought and almost impossible to read passed out in front of the flatscreen with your belt undone, pants unzipped, and drool piling up on your shirt like the glaze on a Krispy Kreme donut. Sooo…my promised column has been booted to this coming Friday (where it belongs), Gary Pig Gold’s is postponed until NEXT Monday, and tomorrow, as a reward, the first chapter of Darrell Vicker’s new book begins the serialization of said book, ‘Bu House -Here Comes the Sun. Those gems require your attention, and today, you really don’t have any, so I offer this relevant rerun for those of you who can read while the game is on, the gravy dries on your shirt, or can read even though you are asleep or drunk or adrunksleep.
…and if you don’t believe that tryptophan is the reason you’re dazed and confused, blame it on the Bossa Nova.
Hi.
I’m Bob.
…and being Bob and of a certain age, I must be honest and let you know that because of the heat I am unable to type very much due to a little known condition called “Beckett’s Wobble Fingers”, brought on by the bones in my fingers turning to a rubber-like substance due to eating too much Play Doh as a child. The heat triggers it and I am unable to push down on the keys of my keyboard because my digits are too soft to push hard enough to make them click and form words with letters. This intro is being typed by my housekeeper and care-giver, Dorito Espenoza, a woman who has served my family since the unfortunate events of June 14th, 1946.
Without further ado, Here’s E. Ray…and Senor Bob, you owe me extra for typing this. Stiff me this time, and I will pour red ants in your underwear drawer again….
Once again, I have been reminded that Life, that Wacky lottery win we are currently sharing with 7 Billion or so other lucky human beings (Lucky, because we are not currently alive as slugs, bugs, skunks, mold, or the NRA’s current yeast infection, Dana Loesch), and have been detoured from my original plan, the Alphabet Soup – Food Edition that everyone is just sooo excited about. I am afraid I must disappoint…again.
I am not going to make excuses or whine, or lie, or simply hide under the bed with a stack of comic books and a bottle of Mr. Happy’s Bonafide Bourbon like I used to, but I will tell you this….
“Seriously…forgive me…but you know that meme that says, “Stop Making Stupid People Famous”? Well, a GREAT many of us are the Stupid People who are responsible for all the famous Stupid People. Sorry….”
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Once again, I spring to the aid of an abandoned Monday…also…to atone for missing my deadline for Friday because, Bob. With Doug Thompson, Gary Pig Gold, and Darrell Vickers wrapped up for the month of July, it has again fallen to me to provide read-y things for the last Monday of the month. I endeavor to do so with another Monday Filler. …and what, exactly, is a Monday Filler? Well, this month, it is this…
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Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 