Man, Dogs Dead

This week, just outside of Calgary, police discovered a woman living in a house with the corpse of a man and 15 dead dogs. Locals say the dead man may be prospector Yukon Cornelius, 58, of no fixed address, who has been missing since the 2006 spring thaw. Authorities believe that due to a severe shortage of wild berries and game meat this past winter, Cornelius may have attempted to break in to the home of the woman to find food for himself and his sled dogs.

Cornelius is a former children's cartoon star, best known for his work in the 60s clay-mation feature Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The Abominable Snow Man (aka Bumble), one of Cornelius' dearest Hollywood-era friends, passed away 2 years ago in a rehab clinic in Anchorage, due to advanced cirrhosis of the liver.

In a related story, K-Dough, famed blogging loud-mouthed know-it-all, has denied that he is obsessed with death and dying as of late. "Look, people die. All the time. I don't kill them, I just write about 'em. I'm not God for fuck's sake!" said Mr. Dough. Critics have decried the blogger's reference to death as a sick attempt to attract attention. It is rumoured amongst pundits that K-Dough soon may begin to discuss cheap sexual topics to distract detractors from his dark necro-obsession.

News 'n Booze Don't Mix

CBC radio this am talked about the fact that foreigners living in Canada without citizenship may have been voting in municipal elections for years. Well, that explains why all our freakin' mayors and councillors are either Filipino or Mexican! You might also be surprised to find out that the university student living next to you does not always wear a condom during drunken sexual encounters with foreigners. What's more, a recent online poll suggests that foreigners don't always wash their fruit properly before consumption! The other day, I saw an American simply wipe an apple off on his own shirt before he tore into it like a savage barbarian beast.

What all this points to is that there is clearly a security crisis of epic proportions happening in the general area of foreigners and we need to do something quickly. The only clear way to end these breaches of trust, threats to national security and fomenting fear is to make them citizens as soon as possible. For the love of god, make them citizens before they...um, become citizens?

In other news today, people- including Canadians- died all over the world. They died in accidents, homicides, botched surgeries, moments of extreme stress, and of natural causes... among others. The nation's death rate is still holding strong at 100%, despite huge advances in modern medicine and science. In fact, Canada remains tied for first place with all the other countries of the world - including the developing world- in eventual human mortality. What is particulary disgusting is that our government doesn't even have a plan to eradicate this scourge!

Luckily, the gods have grinned once again and I survived the night. And it's a good thing, or else you wouldn't have been able to fill up the past 3 minutes of your pitiful lives reading this pseudo-informative drivel. Now get back to work you sickos.

Ruminations on Mortality

While it's true that the world's oldest person died yesterday, coincidentally, a bunch of the world's youngest people were born around the same time. Of course, they are now no longer the youngest. The competition is tough.

They Want You As a New Recruit!

Apparently, the Canadian military is running out of bodies and plans to relax background security checks on recruits to bolster its ranks. They just can't understand why more young people aren't flocking to sign up for all-expenses paid trips to Afghanistan, where all they have to do is scrape Canadian body parts off the landscape to keep the country clean.

In a related story, there are whispers that several prominent Canadian figures are suddenly considering military careers. The rumoured list includes: Chuck Guite; Conrad Black; David Emerson; Ben Johnson; Rona Ambrose; Tom Jacobek; Alan Eagleson; Alfonso Gagliano; and Wanda Liczyk.

38 Years of Hard Core Rebellion

When I was a kid I was one crazy mofo. I did anything on a dare. I drank excessively, swallowed handfuls of illicit drugs, partook in large quantities of promiscuous sex and was completely disrespectful of any kind of authority or convention. I lived fast and loud and said F-U to anyone who had a problem with it.

This morning something hit me. I was getting dressed and realized the extent of my rebellion these days is sadly illustrated by the following anecdote: I recently bought 7 pairs of socks - each pair embroidered with the name of the day of the week on them. But I'm no plastic follower. No way. Not only do I not wear them on the proper corresponding day, but I never wear a matching set. So, today kids, for my feet at least, it's fuckin' Wednesday AND Saturday. Yeah baby, screw the system! Down with the man! Rock hard- ride free!

Happy weekend freaks.

K

9-11 Tapes: Why Right Now?

Why are these "tapes" being released now? Why weren't they released in March? A year ago? Two years ago? Next year? It was the New York Times that went to court (ostensibly on behalf of the families of victims, who, indeed, did deserve to gain access) to get the original tapes released. But recently the FDNY, citing poor internal management, coincidentally found a bunch of new ones that weren't released in the original batch in March. There is a foul smell about this.

The timing is suspect, amidst tenuous support for the so-called war on terror and while events in the Middle East and a heightened terror watch, as a result of arrests in Britain and Canada, have constructed the perfect setting for a dramatic rollout. A cynic might even postulate that it was a communications strategy engineered by dark shadow backroom string-pullers to play down inadequate EMR resources needed to respond to the attack.

One thing is for sure. It's sad that our lazy, tabloid-era North American media is lapping up this "news" with no critical comment. Print and TV yesterday were flooded with the extremely private vain cries for help from human beings on the brink of death. In the background, a locust cloud of Bush bites are swarming, preaching Armagaeddon if the forces of good do not triumph over evil, despite this.

Doesn't anyone care why this stuff happens? Wake the fuck up MSM and North America. Pull that cheeseburger from your thick sweaty jowls, let go of the joystick and wake up.

Leadership Loses Another Star Candidate

Today, to quell the growing speculation and rumour, I am officially announcing that I am dropping out of the Liberal leadership race. No, it's not a matter of scarce resources, bad poll numbers, internal rifts, my position on torture, health or family problems or the fact that my dick and balls are large enough that I now realize that I have nothing to prove.* It's because I sense a fad-nouveau emerging. Over the next couple of months, you just wait and see: Those hip red kids will be turning on, tuning in and dropping out- just like Mo and me! It will inspire a whole new generation of pimply-faced, disinterested, video game obsessed human yawns.

As I step aside and let lesser men (and woman) struggle in vain to win that coveted golden potato, I am putting all my support behind Juju, the dope-smoking, naturist rights activist, hung-like-a-mule, mule. Vote Juju and vote often fuckers- or he'll kick you in the teeth:
*Well, they're not collectively that large. If I try hard I can still cram the entire package into an oversized coffee mug on a cool day with the aid of a good, high-viscocity hypo-allergenic lubricant.

Paparazzi Nails K-Dough!

I have been violated. I had successfuly avoided having my true identity exposed for so long. But I flew a bit too high - too close to the sun, if you will- on the waxy wings of trust. What is this stinky world coming to when a famous blogger can't relax on vacation? When you look at these serene shots of me wake boarding at dusk, you are probably feeling the same as I did, when my eager eyes caught that infamous pic of Gene Simmons half unmasked in Teen Beat, with only a piece of paper covering his face.

Well, if I am the blogging generation's answer to Gene Simmons, then so be it. But must I always be peering over my shoulder, fearful of the next salivating wolf in one of those stupid safari vests pointing his equipment at me? Can't little Kay-Dough grow up like every other kid, in relative miserable, mediocre anonymity - a faceless, unnoticed time bomb that will explode into Queen Street confetti in her teenage years?

Wait a minute- maybe I haven't thought this through completely. Perhaps this slavish, celeb cult worship is good for us. Nevermind. Please continue to adore and fawn as per the usual routine, plebes. Oh, and kiss my rings and make me a fuckin' sandwich on the way out, would ya?

The French Foul Line

Without wading into the debate over the merits of this ridiculous story (click here) , I am proposing a few catchy-kitschy team names of my own:

Les Foie Gras Free Throws
Les Incredible Poutinis
Celine's Heroes
Les Slam Doncs
Les Coups de Coderre
The Alex Quebecs
La Belle Equipe
Sackville Sackers (oops - wrong province)
Les Grandes Allees Hoops

Please vote for your favourite and I will forward the winners to Monsieur Bourassa for his consideration.

Merci beaucoup, K-Deau

Back in Black

Well, back in the dark wheel of pain and misery that is a responsible work week anyways. The wake board-jet ski-frosty beer-sun-straffed days now just a lip biting memory. The mighty northern Valhalla lies quiet and Doughless once again. A million vacations could never satiate this water-logged heart of mine.

News same. Death, intrigue, protest, whining, ennouie. Give me a day or so to re-ramp my urban-centric cynicism and I'll be back in the saddle, slayin' the floating, wounded rodents once again kids.

Y'all come back now ya hear!