When Bloggers Collide or Secret Identities Often Aren't

Do any of you remember years and years ago when the Atlantic published monthly stories about famous people meeting each other for the first time? Last week, Mae Callen met Hella Stella:

HS: "Hi, nice to meet you too. I love your blog. I read it all the time"

MC: "oh, I ah, didn't realize people actually did, wow, oh thanks, I didn't expect that"

HS: "yeah, and that vibrator (you know the one that gave you 8 orgasms in one night) yeah, I'm totally going to order one."

• Description from MC
• HS Explains
  

Like clockwork

Some things are as predictable as the seasons. I can tell it's autumn again, because City Councillor "Dog" Thompson, after mostly, ummm, lying doggo all summer, is once again fulminating about the apocalyptic looming infestation of untrammeled coyote hordes in Ottawa's far burbs. Yoohoo! Dog! Us coyotes all live downtown! The restaurants here are less likely to be crummy nationwide chains, and after tony bistros stack their chairs for the night, the cats of Parliament Hill make fine midnight snacks, ummm, excellent conversationalists...

Yet I have to say that I am beginning to become concerned about ol' Dog's persistence. It's like I'm playin' a roadrunner to his, ummm, badly-drawn Wile E, or something. Also worrisome is the fact that he now seems to be trying to bring a provincial cabinet minister onside. You know the jig is up when somebody initiates an investigative committee in the provincial ledge. They could deliver a non-partisan, all-parties proposal to scrutinize me with a legislative task force, in a matter of mere decades.

I am also worried by the increasing proximity of certain winsome wayward wallabies this week. It seems that Wendell, since his big jailbreak, has hopped it all the way from Kemptville to the fringes of Ottawa. How are ya gonna keep him down on the farm, after he's tasted the City That Fun Forgot's wild nightlife? And there have been ominous suggestions from Wendell's erstwhile screws and the Australian wallaby cognoscenti that if cute little Wendell bites it, it'll probably be a coyote that bit him.

People, I swear! It's a setup! I'm bein' framed! Now, excuse me. I have other fish to fry. And where did I misplace that bottle of Tangy Memories of Billabong Sauce...?

Tank Top Tuesday on Wednesday

Playing with Manny Blue's Boas

Propping up Palin or Meeting Innocence

They all batted their eyes at me at some point during the Hallowe’en party, and they all acted brainless bubbly like the real Alaskan Queen.

The Erratic Genius claims that, “The props is what makes a costume.”

Well, the first Sarah that I met had focused on the real Sarah’s curves, and placed two pairs of shoulder pads in her bra to give herself a more rounded look. She also wore a much envied homemade vote button. (see picture above)

The second Sarah carried a shot-gun all evening and pointing it at people while sing songing, “Drill baby, drill!”

The third Sarah proudly clutched a portfolio filled with home and garden type magazines and was escorted by her own Joe the Plumber.

But here is the point of this post - two people at the party had never heard of Sarah Palin!

“Innocents!”, I blurted out envious of their purity.

House of Representatives

Who knew the U.S. election would be fought not only in Ohio and Florida, but on Bay Street in our own Centretown? Perhaps, just weeks ago, colourful Dion and Harper posters hung in rowhouse windows somewhere in Washington, driving a most Canadian wedge between unparliamentary neighbours.