The wise national leaders of Canada, aka our fuckhead government, now permit its citizens to go shopping south of the border and bring back just about as much crap as they can stuff their cars with. You may agree or disagree with this policy. Fuck if I care: there has not been a Canadian government that has done anything but fuck us since Confederation. Before that the English were fucking us.
That is the prologue to today's wee story which began as I was about to turn into the Shopper Heaven parking lot, close to two miles from the United States border. Traffic was lined up that far. If we did not have debit cards everybody would have been pulling a trailer full of money to dump into the bank accounts of a foreign power's retail sector.
I am surrounded by fuckheads.
The parking lot of Shopper Heaven told me all I needed to know. It was fucking near empty. I picked up what I needed, checked out without waiting and was waiting in the pub parking lot for it to open its doors in no time.
Once I had lunch and few drinks in me I headed for the farmer's market. Needed some corn. There was a lady checking the corn out a little more carefully than the average Canadian voter checked out what a sorry bunch of fuckheads the Conservatives are before they voted for the motherfuckers in the last election. You have heard of crackheads. This woman was clearly a cornhead.
There seemed to be two piles of corn and since they looked the same to me I asked her what made the pile she was choosing her ears from better than the pile she was leaving alone.
"That's peaches," she told me twitchingly. "These are jubilee. Real corn." She went back to her corn selecting and I joined her. She was looking behind each ear's husks for the best shit. I just grabbed six. It is corn for fuck's sake. Not dope. Corn.
I bought the real corn. Jubilee. The real Canadian corn. Then I went home and drank Swedish cider with my dog all day. Did not have to line up for motherfuck all.
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