For a town that thinks it is shit fucking hot, Dope City sure does empty out fast on a long weekend. The highway out of town was snarled this afternoon just like it is every long weekend. It made me happy my hard working Hockey family is staying home instead of being up north drinking our faces off and slurring, "Happy Thanksgiving," with the people who hate the idea of living in Dope City almost as much as they hate the fucking government.
The Hammer was waiting for me at home. The best part of having a dog is being welcomed home. During the short periods I have not had a dog in my life, I have found the hardest part of not having a dog to be the lack of a welcome home when the dog house is empty. I like my dogs alright. I think my friend Henrik likes dogs even more than I do though. During our recent fishing trip I had to endure listening to him talk about his dog in his sleep. "Puppers! Puppers! Puppers!" He did not say much else. The fucker talks more when he is sleeping than when he is awake. No wonder his old lady sleeps in so late.
Sonja says the only thing I ever say in my sleep is, "Eat me."
After my dog and I exchanged greetings and I opened a Carlsberg I lit the first fire of our Olympic Winter. Expectations are high. Back when the NDP first proposed an Olympics for Dope City the idea was that holding such a high profile event would help strengthen the non-resource based components of our economy. Dope City and the rest of the province used to be strictly boomtown economies. When lumber prices are high we eat a lot of fucking steak. When lumber prices are low we eat a lot of Newfie steak. The timing of the Winter Games could not have been better if a boost is what we are going to get for our province's fortunes in these less than ideal times. I hope it works.
The dope industry already softens the sharp edges of hard times around here. Now we are going to expose a whole lot more people to what helps us keep on keeping on.
We are going to have a real good time together, motherfuckers.