It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
I’m watching the kids trudge and grudge past my window on their way to the public school which is a block away.
Get ’em off the streets, I say, keep ’em out of the Youth Detention Centre for yet another year.
It’s cute to see the little doorstops with their shiny new backpacks and pristine runners toddling down the street to the very school where I will be casting my vote in about a month’s time.
I live in the Premier’s riding and I’ve already got a call from a sweet young thing who asked if I’d support Daltie and if I’d like a sign. I said I’d take one even though I’m pretty unhappy with the way the Liberals have conducted themselves over the past four, no wait, eight years.
Liberal smarminess has settled in for the long haul. They could use a good smackdown, maybe a minority government.
I could never vote for Tim Who Dat? He seems like a tool, and he’s a Tory so he has two strikes against him. There is no friggin’ way I’m going to give Stephen Harper his “hat trick”. Everybody knows it’s poor politics to vote for the same party provincially as federally.
If we give Harper a trifecta, pretty soon he’ll be thinking he’s King of Ontario, too.
That won’t do.
And I’m not voting for Andrea Horwath, and anybody who thinks she’ll benefit from Jack Layton’s blow back is pretty silly. First, Jack never wore pumps, at least to my knowledge and Andrea seems pretty right wing for a lefty. We’ve had enough with the right wingers, as far as I’m concerned.
Daltie’s campaign got off to a rather rough start, though, didn’t it? What with the so-called leak to Canadian Press. I bet Warren Kinsella had his fingerprints all over that move and it wasn’t a leak at all. It’s pretty laughable that such a boring document as an austerity platform could be considered leakage. Spillage, more like.
Anyway, I got my first laugh from the campaign. My friend Jennette came over yesterday and she said there was a McGuinty sign outside my old house, remember the one? The toxic oil spill site down the road?
The landlord has that pile up for sale now that the toxic waste folks have gutted the entire basement and front law in search of all the Texas tea that was dumped there last year by an inept Ultramar repairman.
It’s been sitting empty quite a while with a for sale sign on it — I guess people actually hire building inspectors — and now with a McGuinty sign in front of it, the house has even less curb appeal.
Lordy will be rightly pissed that the McGuinty campaign put up a sign in front of his house, as he’s got to be a raging capitalistic Tory.
Serves the old coot right for chucking my family out on our rump roasts this time last year.
The McGuinty campaign hadn’t bothered to ask if I’d moved in the last four years, so they must have taken for granted that I still resided in the old pile. I’m going to wait a couple of days to call and let them know about their mistake.
But thanks, Liberals, for pissing off my old landlord!
That’s worth my vote for sure.
I doubt I’ll change my vote even if the other parties have spiffy new platforms. I don’t care about the HST anymore, and Hydro is a dead issue. Those hikes are here to stay regardless of what party is in power — simply because the province is broke.
It’s like Ontario is the street urchin in Oliver!
“Please, Mr. Harper, can I have some more?”
I won’t be taking in any of those nasty campaign ads, either. I’ve got my PVR set to tape every show — even the news — so I don’t have to see those three bright and shiny faces promising a bunch of bullshit and I don’t have to watch all those negative ads. I hate those.
Remember the words of Jack Layton, folks, as he travels down The Mystic.
Love, love, love.
Keep it clean.
Keep it short.
Keep it real, homies.
Remember folks, vote early and vote often — that’s the Ontario way!