That Musky Smell, or “I’ll Tweet As Many Ukrainian Flags As I Damn Well Want” 🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦

Twitter has been rapidly going the way of Myspace since the day it became the personal treehouse of everybody’s least favourite billionaire who isn’t orange. You can definitely feel the vital life force sucked out of The Bird since the takeover. In light of this unfortunate turn of events, I’ve been actively shopping around for alternate platforms to document this grandiose journey I have planned for the upcoming academic off-season.

I’ll probably hold my nose and post more on Instagram, even though I utterly can’t stand its superficial culture. Many moons ago, I came upon the Insta page of a perfect stranger with a long-forgotten handle whose feed was one of many I was browsing at random one night to get a sense of what sort of things people post on the ‘Gram. One of her posts was a lengthy heartfelt meditation concerning her grandfather’s then-recent Stage IV cancer diagnosis. While there’s certainly something to be admired about the guts it takes to write of things so personal and tragic in a public forum visited by millions daily, the strength of her message was instantly derailed by the accompanying image — a completely non sequitur goofy selfie taken with some filter that gave her cat whiskers or some shit. You got the sense that the whole point of mass communication was completely lost on her. Of course most of the comments revolved around how pretty she was.

Hey, look at me. I’m an influencer.


Um, Yeah. About That Mob of He-Karens Who Terrorized Ottawa

Consumer tastes have changed. The once-lucrative (and unfortunately tax-free) business of peddling anti-gay hysteria from the pulpit suddenly doesn’t fill those collection plates the way it used to. So it’s been replaced with anti-vaccine hysteria. Same rancid milk, different witch’s tit. There are probably other issues at play here* which I shan’t elaborate on, but that’s the crux of it.

P.S. This is your pastor underneath that Brooks Brothers suit.

* Remember those preppy guys you used to know from high school who “ruled” the school? You know, the ones who had this whole attitude that they didn’t have to work hard or put any kind of effort into life because they figured they could just coast by on their looks, charm and connections? Um, yeah.


The Year I Went (Wacky) Granola

I would drink more booze on a typical Friday night in 2011 than I drank throughout the entire year of 2021. Progress! I’ll toke to that.