Day 1
Firstly, I just want to thank Mikhail Prokhorov for flying me over to beautiful Sochi to report on the Olympic games for a publication as respected as The Beating! Mikhail is a class act and a great example of what the free market can accomplish and why traditional family values must be upheld!
I want to say how much I love Russia and their culture. I really get it. It’s just a great party, 24/7, and the sensible restrictions they impose on the media are something that Canada, Toronto in particular, desperately needs. There is a lot we can learn from Russia, and not just about drinking! (LOL)
I’m a straight shooter, so I have to tell you that the Opening Ceremonies are not really my thing. Personally, I find them a little airy-fairy, more for the wife than for me, so I have to admit I didn’t watch them, choosing instead to take in some MMA with staff and new friends. I tell you, you Russians are warriors! You wouldn’t know it from how you fight in hockey, but in the Octagon? Ass kickers!
Day 2
No blog post.
Day 3
That guy, Johnny Quinn? Fucking awesome! He is the hand’s down star of the Olympics. Not only does he have a movie star/astronaut/ fireman name but he played in BOTH the NFL and the CFL, AND just broke down his own bathroom door when it wouldn’t unlock!
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself in the same friggin’ position and responded with exactly the same kind of rage, confusion and entitlement that Quinn showed. This guy is not just the Olympic spirit stuffed in an athlete’s body, but is a shining example of how capitalism bashed through the walls of communism to bring freedom to the great people of Russia!
Day 4
Simply cannot believe how gross Bob Costas’s eyes have become. They make me want to puke.
Day 5
I haven’t seen any beggars here in Sochi. In Toronto they cover downtown like a disease, always asking for handouts. I’ve only given money to a beggar once, a lady one who was wearing a Denver Bronco’s hat, my favourite team. I will always give money to a Broncos fan, but never to anybody else, because of the free market.
There should be football in the Winter Olympics. You know, a big, huge snow bowl. A women’s game, too, because I am entirely for equality of the opposite sexes.
Day 6
No blog post
Day 7
I got to say, the athletes here are freaking beautiful. Super sexy. Justine Dufour-Lapointe? Holy fucking shit. I’ve gotten my staff to get me that Tinder dating App– which is what all the athletes are using to hook-up ( http://sochiontinder.tumblr.com/ )– and am hoping maybe to get the opportunity to party with her and the Jamaican bobsled team, who I bet get tons of tail. Anyway, I’d also like to meet some of the Dutch girl speed skaters. Those outfits, the superhero ones that cover them like skin, are dead sexy.
P.S: So far, I’ve only seen four dead dogs, so I don’t know why the LIBERAL media was making such a big deal about that.
]]>
A big, heaving white guy, he’s the kind of man that gets all red in the face and pumps his fist in the air shouting stuff like, “the gravy train must stop!” He has tiny, receded eyes that make him look as if he’s spent most of his life underground, hair that’s thin, sparse and so absent of colour as to appear transparent and emits the general vibe of a defeated salesman. His life has been buckshot with the sort of Frat Boy controversy you’d expect from a guy that grew up idolizing Rush Limbaugh and the CFL.
He’s not really into the brainy, micromanaging of governance, preferring instead to “take the bull by the horns.” Very often he does this by calling in to talk radio stations or writing letters to his constituents. These are some of Rob Ford’s recent missives:
To a 17 year-old suspected of committing a recent robbery:
Dear Mister Winston,
It’s Rob Fucking Ford here, Mayor of Toronto.
You’re scum.
I don’t want you in my city. I want you to leave my city. You’re a loser and a disgrace to the honest, hard-working citizens of my city. You think it’s cool to hold-up a gas station? Well, it’s not. We need gas to drive our cars. Did you ever think about that? I bet you didn’t. It’s not a victimless crime. You’re a loser and I swear, if I ever hear of you doing something like that in my city again I am going to take you out on the football field and make you my cheerleader, you bitch.
To a militant cyclist who organized a protest on a busy street at rush hour to bring attention to unsafe biking conditions:
Dear Ms. Hairy Hippy Chick,
It’s Rob Ford here, yeah, that Rob Ford, the Mayor of your city. Lady, it’s not the 60’s, shave your armpits, get a job and learn to drive a goddamn car! If I see you protesting on one of my friggin’ streets again I am going to run you over in my Escalade. I’ll enjoy it. I want to rid my city of people like you and the goddamn pigeons who shit all over the place. You’re of the same diseased flock, as far as I’m concerned. Look out for me, license plate reads “Go2Hell” and I drive fast, faster than Batman.
To a store in Chinatown that is suspected of selling bootleg movies:
Dear Mr. Chang or whatever,
It’s Mayor Rob Ford and I you boss. You do laundry for me, understand? No legal-legal to sell Hollywood star movies! Very bad! I shut you down like Jackie Chan, unless you me give Big Man Me movies I want. Big Man Me like Jennifer Aniston and movie with fast car and crash, understand? Keep them coming or I on you like white on rice.
To a graffiti artist known as DMC:
Dear Coward who hides behind the coward name DMC:
What the hell does DMC stand for?
Dumb Moronic Candy-Ass?
I tell you what Rob Ford, Mayor of your fucking city, stands for, he stands for the rule of law. Got it? Just because I can’t draw I don’t take out my frustrations by vandalizing the city, that’s what a coward would do. That’s what you do. You’re a piece of trash.
I demand that you leave my city.
NOW!!!
Go to France where they play sissy football, sissy!
]]>The most recent assault on Toronto’s foremost public servant comes from the Toronto Transit Commission. The other day a streetcar driver accosted Mayor Ford, accusing him of driving his Minivan (identified by the license plate “ROBFORD”) past the open front doors of the city vehicle.
This is a short, one-act play called Third And Long, (commission by Ford supporters) based on recent events.
THIRD AND LONG
Entitled unionized employee who is lazy and breaking regulations: (Rushing out of streetcar to accost Rob Ford as he sits in his car listening to motivational tapes while waiting for the light to change.) “Hey piggy Mayor, your mama so fat when she gets a cut she bleed milkshakes, she so fat she sells shade in the summer. You a fat motherfucka! “
Mayor Ford: “Pardon me, sir?”
Entitled unionized employee who is lazy and breaking regulations: “ Your politics suck ma dick, and I say you drove past my open doors! You front page, fattie!”
Mayor Ford: “I have to disagree with you, but if you like we can proceed through the proper channels to have this matter resolved.”
Lesbian on streetcar with social disease and unpleasant tattoos: (Leaning through the window and shaking her fist)“ I sawz him! He was speeding like he done something wrong! Maybe he kilt somebody!”
Mayor Ford: “ I’m just here to serve the people in the best way that I can, and if any of you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
(At this point Mayor Ford parks his vehicle, pays the meter and gets on the streetcar, paying his three dollars.)
Mayor Ford: “Toronto has the best public transit in the entire world! I’m probably much better taking it than driving and it’s also nice to get to chat with my fellow Torontonians! How are you Miss?!”
Indian woman in Muslim costume with baby who is different colour than she is: “I come from other country! Where my money! You supposed to feed my baby I make from crazy drug sex!”
Mayor Ford: (Smiling) “You have a lovely child there, she could grow up to be Mayor, you know.”
Person in wheelchair taking up way too much room: “ My disability isn’t enough! Give me more!!”
Mayor Ford: (Taking a knee to get closer to the person) “I feel your pain and will personally look into your case to see if I might improve matters!
NDP Party member and supporter of Occupy Wall Street who is playing bongos in back of the streetcar: “ Your family is ugly!”
Mayor Ford: (laughing in a good-natured manner) “Oh, we’re just big-boned!”
Faggy drug addict with a nose bleed: “ You’ve been running this city as if it was a suburban country club, ignoring the needs of those with the greatest need, why won’t you help us?”
Mayor Ford: “ Your words are daggers into my heart. You are all my children, (opening his arms expansively) my constituents, and I want nothing more than to help you by teaching you to help yourselves!”
And then Mayor Ford hands out Scratch And Win lotto tickets to all the passengers on the streetcar, the people, HIS people, now applauding and cheering as he drives away in his Minivan to visit with wounded troops.
