The mayor of Toronto is Rob Ford.
It’s a simple name, that, one that belongs to a man who doesn’t beleaguer himself with a bunch of fancy-pants syllables when he’s trying to get his message across. He has big hands and little eyes and he despises anything that suggest that he, or you, or I, might have to share our money with anybody else. That’s the gravy train, and he doesn’t just want to stop the gravy train, he wants to blow it the fuck up.
Helping him in this mission is his older brother Doug, a city councillor. He also has small eyes, and slimmer than his brother, has a meaner appearance, although neither one radiates what you might call, “thoughtfulness.” Looking at them you could imagine them the villains in an 80’s movie, the guys that banned the town from dancing or something. In fact, they look like boys who might have been jammed into school lockers a fair amount when they were young, an experience that later transformed them into bullies who loved the petty execution of power and stuffing other people into lockers.
Yesterday it occurred to the Ford brain trust to announce that it was reasonable to call 911 if somebody was spotted in the midst of the creation of graffiti. Many people in the city actually like graffiti and don’t really even see it as a crime, let alone one that should call forth the SWAT team, as such, many took to Twitter to mock the mayor by posting under the hashtag #new911calls.
It took off like wildfire.
I now present to you a list of acceptable “new 911 calls” for Toronto that I have written:
City worker who smells of pot taking extra long lunch break.
Man staring at brick wall—suspected graffiti vandal.
Hotmail accounted hacked sending out Erectile Dysfunction spam under my name. Probably work of graffiti vandals.
Very large raccoon trespassing on the private property of my fire escape. Have given him many warnings. Need assistance!
Global warming.
Off-leash dog in city park just stole my dog’s fetch ball. Owner non-compliant in returning ball.
Gross-out puke-fest, just witnessed two fat men kissing on street. St. George and Bloor, immediate assistance!!
Cannot find my car in parking garage. Suspect graffiti artist theft, am now feeling very light-headed from fumes and quite hungry.
Dock spider, huge fucking dock spider!
The host at pretentious restaurant is not following sequential order of waiting line. Suspected graffiti vandal sympathizer.
Toronto Maple Leafs.
Rampant spitting in Chinatown. One landed on my shoe. Must be stopped.
Dog poo sort of smeared on sidewalk, creating graffiti effect, rather than properly picked-up and eliminated by owner.
My cab driver is black as the night and playing foreign sounding music. Think he has chosen inexpedient route intentionally. Now at Parliament and Queen. Send the helicopter!