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Canadians. ‘What are Canadians?’ you ask in that whiny and obnoxious voice of yours that so annoys your peers. Well, truth be told, Canadians are very much like you and I...except that they don’t share anything in common with us whatsoever in any way. Centuries of sub-arctic conditions have made them what they are now - flannel-wearing, hockey- loving, socialized healthcare system-using, ‘eh’-saying bastards. The whole vile lot of them. So now, without further ado, we shall jump to one of these aforementioned Canadians - just as option three advertized.This particular Canadian was named Gus. At this moment he was writing a letter to his mom. Let’s see what it says, shall we? Dear Mum,The war rages on, eh. I can only pray to our Lord and Savior, Wayne Gretzky, to keep me safe, eh. My one condolence is the fact that we’re fighting for a just cause, eh. Even though I’ve yet to figure out what that cause is, eh. Eh. Eh. Eh eh eh eh eh, eh eh eh. Eh eh. Eh. Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh, eh eh eh eh...And it just goes on like that. Just plain silly, if you ask me. Anyway...Fred was between a pickled barrel and hard cheese (as the saying went in Suffex), and was unsure of what to do next. So he ate the bug on his foot. But that did little to appease his appetite for alcohol, compulsive gambling, and fornicating. However, it was then that a tidbit of wisdom imparted to him by his old childhood playmate, Zular Mollari, echoed through his tweaky little noggin. It went something like this: ‘You can beat your meat, and you can beat your friends. But don’t beat your friend’s meat.’ It was completely irrelevant to the current situation.Even so, Fred took a deep breath and...
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5/11/2005 8:09:24 AM
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