4 September 2013

Labourless Day

I get what is called a floating holiday every year. One day to do whatever the fuck you want and get paid for it. Most years I take off the day everybody goes back to school or gets back to work.

Most years I take my dog for a long walk in the woods this day. It was raining as we got going. Rained hard. Half way through our day in the mountains the clouds, which we had been walking in for some time, lifted revealing the steaming farmland and distant city below us. A million dollar view I did not pay a dime for.

It was there we had stopped to eat the lunch I had prepared for us. Cheez Whiz sandwiches for me. Dog food for my girl. After we ate the Hammer slurped up some of the swollen nearby creek. I drank from my water bottle and my flask of 12 year old Bushmills.

On such long walks I sometimes consider what pass for important current affairs. Big one recently is whether or not my American friends and their liberty fry making buddies the fucking French and anyone who cares to join in should give Syria a good bombing. The media is at once pretending it is a tough call and preparing the sheep to applaud like I would applaud an Anne Murray/Joe Keithly duet when bombs start dropping.

The only thing being tossed around above base camp political levels is not the bombing of Syria, they may as well kiss their asses goodbye, it is who the other motherfuckers are who gets it at the same time.

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