I ran into mayoral candidate Kevin Clarke again today.  He was wearing a wig and his face was half-assedly painted silver.   He was singing a song of sorts to me and some others.  I will quote a passage from it:

“Vote for the Negro
who brings Toronto hope!
Is this ganga on the ground?
It must be ganga!
Miller miller miller miller!
You’re gonna have to face the man.
The negro.
You called me homeless.
Vote for the Negro that makes your knee grow.”

Except for his excitement about finding pot, he has me sold.  He was also roller blading/skating, using one roller blade and one roller skate.  I’m pretty sure that if Jesus were alive now, he’d be a lot like Kevin.

Hezbollah is better armed than they used to be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On the downside, they’re loaded with sexual predators. On the upside, they’re loaded with sexual prey.

In pictures: Air strike on Gaza

I’m working on a new religion that ranks it’s members based on pop-tab collection.  Also, you’re expected to donate something liek 5% of your gambling winnings to the church.  And at the start of every year, we spin a wheel to see what God’s mood will be for the next year.  “hmmm… This year God will be… ‘Mysterious’!”
Needless to say, I head this religion.
I’m still waiting on more details to be revealed.

I don’t know where the motherfuckers come from.  I eat rice and coffee.  That’s it.
Anyway, find where they’re hanging out, and suck them up with a portable vaccum cleaner.  They hate it, I assume.  It kills them up good.  Let the vaccum run for a couple seconds extra, just so it’s mroe likely to have suffocated and cooked them inside.
Repeat 5-10 minutes later when new fruitflies have hatched.

With a name like “Operation Summer Rains“, the Israeli invasion of Gaza almost sounds pleasant.  Of course it’s horribly opposite to that.

When I first came across Zakaria Zubeidi, it was two ro three years ago and his wife had just given birth.  He said he didn’t expect to live more than two weeks. 
Since then he’d become one of the most popular Palestinian military leaders as head of the Jenin al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigades.  They really did some great things during that time, being one of the few bright spots in Fatah.  After initial settbacks they tended to work within their means, and even supposedly developed a friendship with crowd favourite, and well known video game producers, Hezzbollah.  Fuck, I even heard they were getting on well at one point with Hamas.
Hamawsome.  Secular and friendly!
Yesterday though, he was murdered by Israeli thugs. 
I realize they do that a lot, and that if I was an Israeli thug I’d feel inclined to murder him up too,*  (He’d probably be at the top of my list, even above the slot reserved for shooting little kids in front of their parents.) but his death seems really special and painful to me.  I see the Palestinian movement being headed by the likes of the Fatah old guard (corrupt servants’o'Israel) and Hamas (nice guys but too religious for me), and I worry that the fuure isn’t going to be any brighter for them.  Maybe I’m wrong about Hamas, maybe they’re not going to moderate their opposition to Israel, maybe they’re capable of running an at least semi-secular state, but I kind of doubt it.  So folks like Zubeidi stand out as the good guys: uncompromising, begunned, secular, and well-uniformed.
I don’t think any number of Israeli dead can make up for the loss of a man like Zubeidi, (but I hope someone tries to prove me wrong.)

*-I can use the phrase “murder him up” to describe the murder of people I admire because I have virtually no emotions outside of spite, better-than-youedness, I’ll-show-youedness, and a couple feelings that I usually just try to sleep through. 

Do cockroaches like heat?  They seem to be making a play for the apartment now that the weather’s warmed up.  Partly I’m sure it’s because in the heat instead of cleaning things constantly I just lay about and do things like watch tv, read, or play poker. 
Anyway, the motherfuckers have aggressively been leaving their corpses right beside my shoes.  Bastards.  I’m pretending that everything in life has a meaning, so: “I don’t know what it means.” 
I’m considering releasing a shitload of that Boric acid powder into my fan so that it spreads everywhere in my room.  Best to do it on a really humid day I figure, so that it possibly sticks in the air or something.
I’ll of course put rescue remedy on my forehead and take some ginseng so that I’m immune to poisons of any sort.

Many of you may remember last year when I tried to take over the city with my underground army of firebreathing clowns with giant heads. 
I was foiled, yes, but this year I try again.
So today I give notice: If the mayor of Toronto does not tender me 500 billion dollars in 48 hours, my (new) gang of helicopter plant-men with nuclear rocket arms driving rock’n'roll laser cars will descend upon the city in a (hilarious) flurry of bloodletting.
I would also like to be named to city council to an honourary position with a fancy title.  Something that implies I’m both smart and tough.