Falling every November, 19th, this day gives me an opportunity to celebrate my masculinity, honour the patriarchy and let my robust heterosexuality roar. It’s a day that I mindfully live to it’s full, manly potential.
This is the journal of my celebration:
November, 19, 2015
6:20 am
Fed the baby and told him stories of manliness.
9:00 am
Had healthy breakfast of granola and a smoothie, as I have a variety of health issues. Told a story about eating bacon to my wife Rachelle while she and the baby played with a “found” rattle (childproof pill container of my anti-anxiety medication) on the yoga matt.
9:30 am
Began to think of myself as somebody named John Steele instead of Michael Murray.
9:45 am
Took Heidi, our Miniature Dachshund, for a walk around the block. Felt good to be out in nature, hunting with my animal. Met two other Miniature Dachshunds, both wearing argyle sweaters. Their owner told me their names were Simon and Garfunkle and to watch out for Garfunkle as he was “crabby.”
10:00 am
Played online poker under the name of John Steele and watched a variety of hockey fights and leaked celebrity sex tapes.
11:30 am
Read “The Littlest Acorn of them All” to my son and then put him down for a nap.
11:45 am
Made my wife a smoothie as she was headed out to a series of womanly afternoon appointments.
12:00 pm
Sampugita, our friend’s nanny, came over to look after the baby. I asked her many questions about her personal life and what dating was like for a young woman in a foreign country. Told her about a few of the sports I used to play. Tennis, in particular.
12:30 pm
Told Sampugita to make me lunch.
12:45 pm
Got text from my wife Rachelle, telling me that making lunch for me was not one of Sampugita’s responsibilities, and that there was left-over quinoa in the fridge.
I AM SURROUNDED BY FEMINAZIS!!!
1:00 pm
Went outside and threw rocks at the stop signs. A few of the kids from the Frat House down the street joined in and for a brief, shining moment, we were a beautiful Northern European tribal pack fighting the enemy. Hail Odin!
1:15 pm
Went home and played with my electric train set while listening to Gordon Lightfoot and slow drinking Jack and Coke.
3:30 pm
Posted my feelings, under the name of John Steele, on a men’s group message board.
4:30 pm
Watched Mike Tyson knock-out videos from the 1980’s, noticing that the boxers all had perfect, gleaming bodies, sweat-slick, they were tangles of beautiful male ferocity under the hot lights.
5:00 pm
Stumbled upon a video called “Johnny Rapid Goes Bareback.” Watched it while finishing my bottle of Jack. More posting on men’s message board under the name of John Steele. And then a little more.
6:00 pm
John Steele then went for a very long, confusing walk alone.
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While he currently holds a job as a Toronto City Councillor, he also works as an onsite volunteer at the Humane Society where his duties including dog walking, bottle feeding (kittens and some birds) and much, much more. However, this is not enough for the man and he has just started a weekly Advice Column for the media giant BuzzFeed:
ASK THE EX-MAYOR
Dear Ex-Mayor:
I am a HUGE Game of Thrones fan!!! Do you really think Jon Snow is dead? I don’t want him to be dead. He can’t be dead. Please don’t let him be dead!!
Super fan from Vaughan
A: My brother Doug and I are massive fans of The Game. Just huge. It’s one of the few shows that’s able to mix sex, nudity and violence with class, and it’s wholesome enough that you can watch it with your kids, too. Good life lessons in GOT, good life lessons. Five out of five on the Rob-O-Meter.
Kinda reminds me of Miami Vice in that way. You could always count on Crockett and Tubbs ( Remember to take the BuzzFeed quiz: Are you Crockett or Tubbs?) to teach you right from wrong.
My brother Doug and I used to watch that show all the time. We dressed up as ’em for Halloween, too, and always used to get in a fist fight over who got to be Crockett. Doug always won because he was the eldest, but it didn’t bother me too much, because I liked dressing up in black face and speaking in that crazy Jamaican accent. Didn’t know that wasn’t considered “politically correct” until after I was mayor. Whatever. People don’t know how to have fun.
Those were good times, though. Miss the good times. Miss ’em pretty bad.
Anyway, I don’t think that Jon Snow is dead. They did something weird with his eyes at the end and I think that means he went to live in his wolf-slave, or that maybe he’s returning as a White Walker, so don’t despair Super Fan!
Dear Ex-Mayor:
I’ve been dating a terrific guy for six months. We have a lot of interests in common and I love spending time with him, but lately I’ve been feeling that our core values aren’t aligned. I’m a lifelong Christian and I know what is right and wrong biblically. He’s a Christian too, but he told me that he lost his virginity and has no regrets about it even though he knows it’s religiously wrong. This upsets me because as a Christian I know premarital sex is not allowed. He’s a good man and I don’t want to lose him, but he’s sinning! What should I do?
Conflicted Christian
A: The one thing we know about Jesus, other than that he had a beard, is that he’s forgives EVERYTHING. He recently forgave me all my Ashley Madison sins, and my wife, whom Jesus had put in a pretty tight corner by forgiving me so quickly, had to cut me some friggin’ slack, too, as she knew I had Godly absolution. I tell you, the holy Lord is the best goddamn lawyer of all time.
But for Jesus to forgive your sins of the flesh, you first have to make ’em. So, whatever you do, whether you decide to remain true to your faith and only give your man a hand job, or if you cave in and screw his brains out with U2 blasting, Jesus will still think you’re cool! He’ll give you the keys to his kingdom whatever you do! I know it’s weird, but it’s true. I tell you, Jesus is a bloody rock star, the Bono of his time.
You’re gold, Conflicted Christian, so sex it up!
Dear Ex-Mayor:
How do I come out to my homophobic parents?
Anonymous, age 15
A:
You’re a fruit, eh?
Geez.
Boy, don’t know what to tell you.
Really scratching my head here.
I guess it all just kind of grosses me out. Don’t want to think about it and have those images in my head. Anyway, good luck and go Blue Jays!
His silence during this time had fueled all sorts of speculation, with some people believing he’d been in Switzerland to attend his girlfriend giving birth, while others thought he was ill, had power seized from him or that he might even have been assassinated.
Well, he appeared hale and hearty on Monday morning, and it turns out that Putin, utilizing the survivalist training he learned as a KGB operative, had spent the last week camping on his own. These are his private journals from that trip:
Day 1:
As spring approaches, the burning comes hard and fast.
I shudder with the unnatural urges and I know that I must, once again, remove myself to the Bialowieza Forest and make peace with the natural world.
My mind, as if fevered, returns again and again to that Sikh cab driver as he stared out his car window on Shkolnaya.
For a moment, our eyes, like magnets, found one another, and we were two beautiful, masculine animals locked to one another, our breathing becoming so urgent and alive, and in such perfect and furious unison as to be inseparable. We would to be just one, all flesh, muscle and luxuriant and mysterious beard. Ah, but this moment lived only in our hearts and minds, for we never met or spoke, just two rugged ships passing in the fading light of a tired Moscow day.
In the Bialowieza Forest there are no seductive cab drivers with strong, Indian features. No, here there are berries. Here there are cold streams in which to cleanse impurities from one’s naked body! Here there are animals to kill! Here there are so many places to unleash the rage and to let the echoes of pain take flight!!!
Day 2.
I am heterosexual.
I am heterosexual.
I am heterosexual.
I am Dear Shirtless Leader.
I am a powerful, heterosexual leader.
I am ruthless and without pity.
I am heterosexual.
Day 4
I use rocks to pound my hands. The pain reminds me of how much I love women and not men. Rocks are my friends. I will incite my people to throw them at the homosexuals when I return from my purification!
Day 5.
I spent the day in penetrating, decontaminating meditation.
The cold of the March forest felt good on my naked body. It was like being caressed and then handled roughly by the indifferent hands of an anonymous man looking to satisfy his own primal needs. I was an empty and willing vessel, a village waiting for to be led by its mayor.
I then ate two birds that I knocked out of the air using my belt. They are part of Father Russia now.
Day 6.
Today a young stag approached my camp while I made weapons from the beaks and talons of the birds I ate. This buck looked at me with both certainty and curiosity, and as a confident as a bear, walked right up to me and licked my bare chest.
I could have torn him apart with my horrible weapons, but I did not. He continued to lick– he must have been starved for nutrients and minerals—and I took his beautiful head in my powerful hands– and then he began to lick me in an intimate spot. The forest was a beautiful canopy above us and the sunlight was falling like gold coins all around, and for a moment there were no other living creatures in all of the universe, and then I twisted his neck and killed him, and there was but one living creature left, and it was then that I knew I had won and was ready to return to society.
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It’s long been a dream of mine to play professional hockey, and this is a goal I’ve worked very hard to achieve. Unfortunately, I’ve never been quite good enough to make the grade, and as the years pass by my chances of making the NHL are rapidly diminishing. In an effort to remind the NHL GM’s and coaches who might still be looking for a character guy in the locker room, of just how committed I am to this dream, I am providing a short list of some of the things I’m willing to do to fulfill my dream of playing in the NHL.
I am perfectly willing to serve as a shutdown, 4th line centre, instead of the natural, 1st line scorer I am, if it gets me into the NHL faster.
I will continue with my figure skating lessons, trying to improve my balance and explosiveness on the ice in order to make me a better team player.
I would not hesitate to drop the gloves.
I will cut back on my shifts at David’s Tea in order to train more.
I would consent to wearing a suit and tie to and from the rink for every game.
I would kill a bird with a rock.
I would be willing to relocate.
If necessary, I would subordinate my natural leadership skills in order to better serve the team.
I will say no to hanging out with friends and going out to parties because I know I have to be up early the next morning to train.
I would have sex with Tom Hardy– even though I’m not gay or even remotely curious about what being gay might feel like– in order to prove how serious I am about playing in the NHL.
I would also have sex with Tom Hardy and Daniel Craig– even though I’m not gay or even remotely curious to know what it might feel like to be gay with two other stunning and sexy men– in order to prove how serious I am about playing in the NHL.
I would give up my participation in fantasy hockey in order to protect the integrity of the NHL and the great game of hockey.
I would take up hunting in order to better fit in with my peers.
I would consider giving up gluten.
I would also consider giving up Choir! Choir! Choir! in order to more fully dedicate myself to my dream of playing in the NHL.
