There’s always one just-past-middle-aged man– usually with long grey hair pulled back into a pony tail or up into a samurai knot– executing some interpretation of a martial art using a huge wooden stick or some such. Whenever I see one of these men I am forced to imagine their apartment, and I do not like that. I do not like the fabrics and odours and screensavers
that puts in my head, and so I’ve always kept a kind of hostile distance from them.
Our park, the park where we take our son Jones to play every day, has one of these guys. He is pudgy, dresses all in black, and looks like somebody whose life had been taken over by Columbine ninja fantasies a long time ago.
As such, I have not yet chatted with him, and have chosen instead to make fun of him behind his back. However, since my completion of pulmonary rehabilitation I have hired a personal trainer and I now work-out in this park, which brings me in direct competition with the Columbine ninja for the creepiest man in the park. Yesterday, he was stationed, with his collection of magic sticks, by the bench where I now work out.
This is the conversation that took place:
Me: Hey there, what are you up to!?
Columbine Ninja: ( Continues his maneuvers without saying a word.)
Me: I’m about to work-out. Here. By this bench. This one here. Is that okay with you?
Columbine Ninja: (Raises one hand to shush me)
Me: (Begins to pull out resistance bands from a Shopper’s Drug Mart bag)
Columbine Ninja: You must never disturb a warrior when he is training.
Me: Are you a warrior?
Columbine Ninja: ( Does a maneuver with his big stick, strikes the branch of a tree)
Me: Nice.
Columbine Ninja: The true warrior is invisible to those who cannot see.
Me: Yes, of course, I should have known that.
Columbine Ninja: Not all who wander are lost.
Me: Are you a part-time life coach or something?
Columbine Ninja: I am a student, not the master.
Me: Uber driver?
Columbine Ninja: I am a student of Kenjutsu!
Me: I think you work at a weed dispensary.
Columbine Ninja: Anata wa seik? shite imasu.
Me: What was that, Klingon? That doesn’t impress me in the least.
Columbine Ninja: I wonder why it is that you have trouble breathing? Is it because you fear life? I think you are a scared man. In Kenjutsu they teach you how to control your breathing, how to master your fear before it masters you!
Me: I only have one lung.
Columbine Ninja: And all you need in order to live a failed life is one excuse.
And then the Columbine Ninja just walked away and I commenced the most melancholy work-out in history.
Excellent form, though.
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I don’t believe that this crime was committed by a hacker collective known as The Impact, as has been reported, because The Impact can be nothing other than the name of a (white) B-Boy dance troupe from back in the 80’s.
At any rate, I think that the bloody-minded terrorist group ISIS, who really knows how to tear at the fabric of Western society, was responsible. They want to expose our corrupt ways and force our children to watch us shriek at one another while washing dishes after dinner. But no, no, I am not going to let terror win. When our leaders called upon us to shop in order to fight terror, I shopped, and now, when it is clear that we must continue our adulterous ways in order to stave off terror, I will be adulterous. I am for the troops, and with that in mind, I have just joined Ashley Madison.
This is my profile page:
RaccoonDrumCircleSexMachine
“Renaissance man”
Age: 36 (Leo)
Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Height: 6’0″ (183cm)
Weight: 190 lbs (86kg) – Average/medium
Languages Spoken: English
My Limits are: Undecided
Status: Attached Male seeking Females
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian (white)
Smoking Habits: Not specified
Tell me more about yourself:
I love puppies and animals in general, although I have never cheated on my wife by using them as sex slaves. By the way, raccoons are my favourite animal, and I am pretty sure they’re my spirit guides. Sometimes, I like to dress up as one for sex.
Besides that I do martial arts; extreme martial arts. And Parkour. I also play the drums, and it’s like I play the drums better than Satan, it’s like I’m having sex with those drums, it’s like a drumgasm! ( LOL!!) I’m also taking some college classes, one on zombies in popular media, because I love zombies and meeting young women who would normally be outside of my sphere. I work as an Uber driver (another great way to meet women and find out where they live) whenever my wife starts screaming at me about whether the forks are clean enough or some other bullshit.
Preferences and encounters I am open to:
I am on a quest– not just for sex with a female partner who is not my wife, but for all things. I will do and try anything. Some people say that I am fearless, as fearless as an urban raccoon. Would somebody who isn’t fearless spend just over a week in the woods searching for Bigfoot? I don’t think so. A person with fear would cringe from that challenge, but not RaccoonDrumCircleSexMachine! I went to the woods. Will you go to the woods with me?
What really turns me on:
Honesty would have to be number one, and a close second would be to see a Bigfoot man and a Bigfoot lady going at it.
What I am looking for:
I like chicks who dig passionate drummers, as well as submissive Goth types who are into role playing, but mostly I just like really hot babes. Here are some examples:
No Asians please.
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This is the battle that ensued:
Greasy, loner neighbour: U DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOOK AFTER A DOG
Me: YOUR MAN BUN IS VERY BRAVE.
Greasy, loner neighbour: AT LEAST I HAVE HAIR
Me: YOU’RE SHAPED LIKE A PEAR & WE CALL YOU CINNABON
Greasy, loner neighbour: YOU LOOK LIKE MR. BURNS
Me: HAVE GONE OFF MY MEDS. FEEL UNPREDICTABLE
Greasy, loner neighbour: ADVANCED TRAINING IN NGUNI STICK FIGHTING. NOT SCARED
Me: VIDEO GAMES DON’T COUNT
Greasy, loner neighbour: YOU’RE ON DISABILITY, RIGHT?
Me: YOU LOOK SHARP IN YOUR BEST BUY T-SHIRT, CINNABON.
Greasy, loner neighbour: U LOOK WEAK & ALWAYS SEE YOU IN HOUSECOAT. CREEPY
Me: ALLERGIC TO GRAINS AND HAVE ASTHMA. WHY I KEEP GUNS
Greasy, loner neighbour: JUST KEEP YOUR DOG QUIET, OK?
Me: NO
Greasy, loner neighbour: WILL CALL ANIMAL SERVICES
Me: THEN WE WILL STICK FIGHT, BUT I WILL HAVE GUNS
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Achieving one of the highest pollution ratings in the history of the planet last week, the city of Shanghai was almost completely enveloped by smog.
The skyline was obscured, schoolchildren were ordered to stay inside and all manner of commerce was suspended. This was a monumental, even apocalyptic kind of problem, but the government decided to use it as a rather cheerful opportunity to disseminate propaganda, pointing out that the smog was excellent for national defence as it acted as a kind of shield, discombobulating the navigational systems of enemy missiles. I present to you a short list of some of the messages the government passed along to the people in the hopes of quelling their anxiety and boosting their morale:
“Although criminals may think the smog conceals their actions from our surveillance cameras, the people of China will always do what is right!”
“Now free from the courageous bustle of industry, it is a lovely time to stroll the streets of Shanghai!”
‘It is important for the people of China to understand that the pollution we see in the air is definitely not living invisibly in the water, earth or food sources of our nation! China: United in safety!”
“The brownish, rank smog must know that the colour of Red China will never change!”
“Be indomitable in physical training to strengthen the physique, but please, not outdoors in peak smog hours!”
“The people must keep the birth rate low to defeat the smog! ”
“We are fortunate and blessed not to have a flu epidemic while the people fight smog!”
“The smog is our shield against aggressive capitalist imperialism!”
“It is good that Kanye cancelled his concert in Shanghai because of the smog for he is decadent and corrupt!”
“Like smog, the Gods of wealth can enter the home from everywhere if the worker is committed!”
“Chinese women’s volleyball, #1 the envy of the world!”
