With all of this blue-skying about saving Winterlude™ with megaQuonsets and peeing en masse into the canal -- yeah, like that doesn't happen already -- we have overlooked the fate of the symbolic, perpetually perky, porcine heart and soul of the festival. I allude, of course, to the National Capital Commission's™ legendary Ice Hogs™. I mean, if global warming burns their natural environment, indeed, their entire raison d'être, into sodden raison toast, these guys just ain't gonna make it.
Their job is to skate up and down the frozen Rideau Canal and schmooze. When you consider that each of their Body Mass Indices include, conservatively, about a hundred pounds of highly absorbent foam rubber and fun fur, trying to make them swim laps in their melted venue will send them to Davy Jones' Locker™ faster than you can say 'Spongebob'™.
Oh, the, um, humanity. Or whatever...
So we need to stop global warming. C'mon people, ideas! Don't let the Ice Hogs™ drown! Think of all the children world wide who dream of Ice Hog Time™!
Why, just the other week, the ESI™ Research Director was telling me emphatically, if a tad ungrammatically, "Iceswine has become incredibly popular". Oops. I think he also said, "Iceswine is very tasty."
We'd best leave him out of the search party when they founder...
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