Accordingly, I suppose, one must expect the school board to blind and deafen each student so that they won't accidentally watch television or listen to the radio or surf the internet or GO OUTSIDE, EVER, and realize that *gasp* homosexuality exists. Unless, of course, they get permission slips.
Additionally, blah blah blah, later bar hours. One woman whinging that bars close too early, because after all, when all the alcohol-licensed establishments close at eleven or twelve at night, "what do you do?" As if this is her only purpose in life, and additionally as if it is her God-given right to force waitstaff to remain at their posts until she's done drinking, prancing about in her three-sizes-too-small hoochie getup - eyuck, she reminded me of Faya. With her shiny friends nodding emphatically in agreement, with that little ghetto-hoochie lip-curl that really pisses me off. (Oh, I don't know. Get a life, maybe.)
Seeing Joy McPhail on television always makes me snicker because no matter how seriously she speaks on camera, I can't help but picture the Air Farce skits. No matter how hard I try. I have been irreversibly brainwashed by the deviously irreverent ways of Canadian political commentary. I don't know that there are many other countries where the primary method of political discussion is to mock everything 'til it hurts. Snicker.
"Later tonight: the fight to stop erosion from washing way Vancouver's only nudist colony."
*snicker, sputter, choke*