This is a very small sample of some of the written complaints the principal has received from concerned parents:
“ When we picked Williamsburg up after school today he told us that he saw that dairy was available in the cafeteria. Is this true? Dairy? In 2013??”
“Our son Balzac was told he was “missing out” and that it was his “loss” by another classmate when he told her that he was on a gluten-free diet and couldn’t have any of the Oreo cookies she offered him. This sort of verbal abuse is unacceptable and it’s our hope that you severely discipline this girl so that this doesn’t become an ongoing problem. Additionally, another pupil scrawled “ballsack” on his binder. Balzac is a very sensitive, artistic and gifted boy, and to have uncertainty, even insecurity creep into his spirit would be nothing short of criminal. ”
“Sand was thrown at Plath during lunch hour, some of which got in her hair. To say the least, it was a VERY bad way to start the school year. We will be home schooling Plath until this matter is resolved and we are assured that nothing of this nature will ever happen again.”
“While performing a puppet show about Medecins Sans Frontieres for his grade three class, Luther was heckled by one student who was unable to follow the simple narrative of his “piece de theatre.” (Surely most children know of this NGO and have some French, no??? Is our education system that bad?!)This disruptive student (behavioural problems caused by poor diet?)kept yelling out, “Medecins Sans Fartieres,” and all the other children laughed, which caused Luther severe trauma. I had to give him half an Ativan when he got home. It is an atrocity when a child is not allowed to flourish and is bullied into subordination. Please consider advancing Luther to grade four, five or six so that he is able to interact with students who might share a similar artistic and intellectual capacity.”
“ While playing dodge ball at recess, our boy Colbert was hit twice, once in the head. Clearly, he was targeted. This is unacceptable. We ask that you look into this immediately and discipline the children involved. They are Droogs.”
As it turns out, Rob Ford, Toronto’s embattled, fiscally conservative, crack-smoking mayor is amongst those who have applied for this one-way ticket to the future.
This is his application.
Tell us a little about yourself:
My name is Rob Ford and I’m still mayor of Toronto, one of North America’s largest cities and greatest sport’s towns!! You might have heard of the Toronto Maple Leafs, the CN Tower or maybe some lies that the media made up about me. We’re pretty big-city here.
Anyway, I’m an alpha male, big and powerful, like a lumberjack or a white football player who ferociously protects his QB; loyal, not stubborn. I’m a straight-shooting son of gun who tells it like it is, and I like to have a good time. Let me tell you, you’ll always know when the Big Dog is in the house because there’ll never be a dull or non-confrontational moment! I will bring the energy and flat-out RAWK the Martian Mansion! I am a walking exclamation point!!! Think Snooki times six!
I’m also straight. The idea of guys kissing grosses me out. They can do what they want underground or wherever, but when it’s in front of me, I need them to show some respect.
I’m really into the ladies, am likely still able to father children and would be totally open to any romantic entanglements that might develop on Mars. I think everybody should have a shot at love, even if it’s on a different planet far away from your wife that you’ve been married to for a like a billion years. Personally, I like blondes the best, blondes like Seven of Nine from Star Trek: Voyager and Jessica Simpson. Hell, I don’t care that Jessica Simpson went out and put on some weight from drinking and having a baby! She was under a lot of stress, which I completely and totally understand, so if Jessie put on a few, big whoop, it just means there’s more for me!
Favourite movie: A Clockwork Orange
Favourite city: Chicago
Favourite band: Triumph
Tell us why you’d like to go to Mars:
My favourite colour is red. LOL!! I’m just kidding. (I have a really good sense of humour and could really boost the spirits of the other pioneers, and keep our massive viewing audience laughing.)
But seriously, Commander Chris Hadfield, the Canadian who was up in the International Space Station Tweeting back to earth, has inspired me to want to become an astronaut. I could totally do what he did.
Here are some of my sample Tweets:
“From space, Chicago is an intricate tapestry of partying lights.”
“Who let the dogs out? Rob! Rob! Rob!”
“The Earth, small and blue and beautiful in eternal, floating silence.”
“Quietly, like a night bird, floating, soaring, wingless, I can blot you out with my thumb.”
Anyway, Hadfield is like a saint around here and can’t do anything wrong. The media, who tell lies about me and hunt me like I was a big, beautiful wild animal, think that everything he does is right and everything that I do sucks and instantly turns to crap. They’re trying to tackle me, the media, and that’s not fair. Earth people are negative all the time, and just don’t get Rob Ford. I think I’d like to get off this little blue bean and take on the challenge of colonizing a new, media-free planet.
I’m not scared to kill things with my hands if that’s what it takes to live on Mars.
If I can quote, “I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no, no, no, I’m a rocket man.”
Also, I believe very strongly in free enterprise and would friggin’ love to start a brand-new economy that has no bureaucrats and very little municipal governance. That would be a dream, that and coaching football again. I would LOVE to be the greatest football coach in Martian history, and one day, I would hope to become mayor of Mars, too, or rather, my district of Mars.
I was built for space.
Rob Ford
PS: The rumors that I was rejected for “Celebrity Apprentice” are ridiculous.
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As many of you know, Rob Ford and I went to Carleton University in Ottawa at the same time and were last call drinking buddies. Although we’ve never had a sober conversation, we developed a strange but resilient friendship, one that sees us communicate even to this day. Whenever one of us is drinking alone, we often go on-line to chat with one another, a sort of nostalgic slur back to the good old days.
At about 3:00 am on Saturday, as Toronto’s Nuit Blanche arts festival was winding down, I got this message from Rob:
The Mayor: Her Mur, you there? You go to the French thing last night?
Me: Rob! You mean Nuit Blanche?
The Mayor: Yeah, the farts festival.
Me: What were you doing there? You’re not a fart fan!
The Mayor: Who says?? BTFSPLK!!!! LOLOLO!! Hey, uever hit a raccoon with a rock?
Me: Tried to, but always missed.
The Mayor: Always threw like a girl, Murray! Honest to god, thought ur a fag until we went to that peeler together!
Me: Juicy Lucy’s.
The Mayor: Loved that place. Wanted Sylvie so baaaddd!!!
Me: What about the raccoon?
The Mayor: Pegged it right in the head, thing fell off the fire escape. I was a goddamn hero, but the press never runs those stories.
Me: Slobber, you should have been the quarterback.
The Mayor: Always the QB inside, Mur, u know that.
Me: So how was your night of arts?
The Mayor: Fuckin’ AWESOME!!!
Me: What’d ya see?
The Mayor: My brother and I dressed up as Droogs from a Clockwork Orange!! Got hammered!
Me: You gotta always hide from the press, eh?
The Mayor: Always wanted to be a Droog. Relate to the Droog. DROOOOOOGGG!!
Me: DROOOOOGG!!
The Mayor: We tipped over some shitter that some dick was in.
Me: He crossed the wrong fucking Droogs!
The Mayor: Ain’t that the truth! Doug and I were yelling at some chick to show us her tits and then this fancy Charlie got all feminazi on us so we taught him a lesson.
Me: You ‘da Mayor!!
The Mayor: Fuckin’ right, little buddy. And let me tell you, if that pirate girl Justin Trudeau runs for Prime Minisiter, I’m quitting this job and running against him. Show him what a real man smells like! Ford’s Fist, Fucker, Ford’s Fist. Outta Rye, catch ya later little buddy!
