Addendumb.

About the previous post, a quick note:

No, I'm not Liberal. Or Conservative. Or NDP. Or even Green. I'm not going to say what my affiliation is online because I don't think this is the right forum in which to do so. Add to that the fact that I really just don't give a shit about politics. One way or another, the government of Canada is going to screw us over a little bit. Really, I don't understand what everyone is complaining about. You're living comfortably, able to read this blog in the safety of your warm home in the middle of December, and you have no fear of terrorist attacks, gang attacks (Jane/Finch area exempted), or disease. Hell, even God hasn't sent malicious shit our way since Hurricane Hazel (the Hamilton tornado happened because God hates Hamilton, not the rest of us).

Look, every government has proposed lower taxes, and hardly delivered. Every government has promised more jobs, and only managed to make substandard busywork. And every one has promised to do...something...to health care, when in reality none of them are capable enough to do anything of substance.

My advice: vote for whichever party has the neatest logo. Or has colours that you like. Or barks the loudest in our farce of a parliament. Just do what you've been doing for the past however many years of your life since you've been able to vote: wake up in the morning, go to school, have your Tim's coffee, and complain about the Man. It's what we do as Canadians. What the hell would we talk about if we didn't have a vaguely shitty government to complain about? Weather, hockey and...weather.

Look, the point is, the whole popularity contest is a joke. When the time comes and the signs go up, it's like being out on the town looking to pick up. You have three or four people catching your eye, each promising you things that you only dream of. Can it be true? Do they really lust and pine for your affection? My, they look pretty well-off, what would they want from you? What can you offer? They just want your affection and love, and maybe a little bit of money. 'Alright,' you think, 'I've weighed all the differences between each one. I'll take one this one home, I've made the right choice'. Did you?

Point is: don't bother with the "facts" and promises, because they're just the martini from the night before you wake up in a ditch with a sore ass. And the people you had your eye on? They just tossed you there.

Moment of Zen: Happiness is a warm gun. Bang, bang. Shoot, shoot.