The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Christmas In July

First dose.

Second dose.

Having been through this process as evidenced by the photographic display seen above, I deduce that the phrase Fauci ouchie is a misnomer. Not just because I’m Canadian, and hence slightly out of the good doctor’s jurisdiction (we have our own resident infectious disease expert who is likewise despised by certain alt-right whingebags for no good reason). Verily, there wasn’t much ouchie to speak of. That flu shot I got last November was actually way more painful than both COVID shots combined. Barely felt the needle go in either time. A slight tingly feeling in my arm for a day or so after each dose (not unlike something one would experience after getting a flu shot) was about the only physical assurance that I’d actually been injected with something.

Not one anti-vaxxer will give a speck of credence to the preceding paragraph. I’d bet the farm on that. But if Karen from Facebook is reading this, I got a question. Now that I’ve received the mark of the Beast, how do I go about activating my new satanic powers? I’m trying to harness the power of Mephistopheles to turn anything I want into crispy bacon using only my mind, but I can’t even get my eyes to do that thing where they glow red like the woodland Christmas critters off that old South Park episode…


The Zen of SILVER BROWN

This Guy Should Be On Our $20 Bill

Toppled statues of Queen Victoria don’t bother me in the slightest. She was never the epitome of cool, or particularly pleasing to look at. But if they start tearing down statues like this within my lifetime, I’ll be officially done with this planet and booking that seat on the first available flight to Mars.


The Bullhorn of SILVER BROWN

SILVER BROWN: The Final Chapters

Chapters Seventeen and Eighteen will soon be presented to the good people of Planet Earth on Twitter. A new page every day, as usual. I usually start doing this sort of thing on the seventh day of a given month (i.e. today), but this time I’m reluctant to start doing that while the Stanley Cup playoffs are still on.

Ovi knows that feeling. Maybe not so much this year, but he knows that feeling.

The aforementioned sporting tournament is typically over long before the solstice, but this is hardly a typical year. So I tweaked the scheduling accordingly. The tweetment of these pages shall commence the morning after Lord Stanley’s Mug is hoisted. Which could be as soon as tonight*, for all I know.

* My apologies to any diehard Habs fans reading this, but your guys are as good as toast. They’ve clearly met their match with the Bolts’ powerful blue line. Tampa could replace Vasilevskiy with a three-toed sloth and there wouldn’t be any noticeable improvement to your shots on goal.

Once I run out of pages to tweet, SILVER BROWN shall be officially retired as a literary project. This site will then go through a molting phase of its life cycle. I know not what will eventually hatch out of the cocoon, but not knowing is half the fun.