We’ll Cream You With Our Tim Hortons Donuts, You Hosers!

From yadadarcyyada

yadadarcyyada

https://yadadarcyyada.com/2017/04/28/well-cream-you-with-our-tim-hortons-donuts-you-hosers/What is the deal, America?
I thought we had an agreement.
We Canadians have tried to be polite neighbours; we’re kinda known for it.

https://yadadarcyyada.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/well-cream-you-with-our-tim-hortons-donuts-you-hosers/

I feel kinda let down. Canada has kept our part of the bargain, regularly offering up sacrificial talent to the USA volcano: Michael J. Fox, Ryan Reynolds, Jim Carrey, Dan Akroyd, Mike Myers, William Shatner https://yadadarcyyada.com/2013/10/20/shatners-world-we-just-live-in-it/

https://yadadarcyyada.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/well-cream-you-with-our-tim-hortons-donuts-you-hosers/

Tricia Helfer, Alex Trebek, Lorne Michaels, Michael Bublé, Mary Pickford (yes, American’s sweetheart was Canadian), James Doohan, Elizabeth Arden, Joni Mitchell, Arcade Fire, Sandra Oh, Monty Hall, Michael Cera, Tommy Chong, Nathan Fillion https://yadadarcyyada.com/2013/10/24/firefly/

https://yadadarcyyada.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/well-cream-you-with-our-tim-hortons-donuts-you-hosers/

Dave Foley, Yannick Bisson, Cobi Smulders, Wayne Gretzky, The Tragically Hip, Leslie Neilsen https://yadadarcyyada.com/2013/11/04/airplane/ Rick Moranis, Seth Rogen, Neil Young, Margaret Atwood, Martin Short, Justin Bieber, Avril Lavigne, Peter Jennings, Rich Little, Morley Safer, Barenaked Ladies, Fay Wray…

https://yadadarcyyada.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/well-cream-you-with-our-tim-hortons-donuts-you-hosers/

Eugene Levy, Carrie-Ann Moss, Frank Gehry, Drake, Ryan Gosling https://yadadarcyyada.com/2017/03/09/heres-to-the-ones-who-dream/ Shania Twain, Joshua Jackson, Eric McCormack, Neve…

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Asphalt and Retail

from Frank Morelli

Frank Morelli

I grew up in Laurel Springs, New Jersey but I always say “Philadelphia” when people ask where I’m from. It says so on my birth certificate and I’ll never budge on that. Plus, Laurel Springs is one of those suburban, cookie-cutter towns with a patchwork of four-lane highways bordered by strip malls, chain restaurants, and the intermittent, open pasture of a Little League field. I wasn’t always ashamed of it. I used to think it was the only place on Earth I’d ever live, back when my brother and I would hide from the summer sun under the shade of a massive oak in the front yard, and we’d roll our Matchbox cars up and down the winding super-network of roads provided by its gnarled root system.

But then came the road crews, and the engineering crews squinting behind their quirky tripods, and the tree service crews, and before you…

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A Flight of Ideas – High Art

My cheeks are red; like cuts of fresh beef.

This clarity of complexion is significant but I can’t locate its source.

The source of significance is always obscure, like the meaning of “High Art’.

Let us assume for a moment that ‘high art’ is art that makes no sense.

Let us also assume that high art is useless.

By virtue of assumption, we enter the realm of critic: one responsible for deciding what is high and who goes low.

They name what we haven’t.

Delusional grandiosity is the basis of all civilized discourse.

What we say is true, is true, because we say it is.

Thus, I poke my complexion and objectively call it clear, but can I
call it high?


(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved