DUCK THE LABRADOOKIES

*Autocorrect not corrected for your amusement and cognitive dissonance.

From the internet. Who really cares…..

I let the Mother in our house sleep this morning, as I try to do most mornings. Decades ago, I made the rookie mistake of waking her in the midlife* of the night to have sex. It was never attempted again, which demonstrates my ability to learn, adapt, and get the jell* out of the way. The senior terrier, or Senora Terror, as I refer to her privates*, is practicing a certain kind of canine Buddhism, aka One Foot In Front of The Other Three. She plods. She sniffs. She looks up at me with her good rheumy eye.

Today is Mother’s Day, which is a difficult day for many women, in particular those who did not give in to societal pressure, love*, or financial arrangement, deciding that whatever life we were condemning our child to, was better than no life at all.

Why do people have kids? On the face of it, it seems like it’s a crazy decision. Give away your youth, your looks, your perfect ask*, all for the potential love of someone who you don’t even know, who doesn’t even exist when the said decision is made.

Motherhood, less so fatherhood, is an act of bravery, love, and sacrifice. My wife who is Michelle, who is my shell, as I am but a naked turtle without her, is my rock, is really the one ring that rules them all- she is my best friend. Together, we made Favourite Daughter. FD has turned out to be one of the best decisions we ever made.

Decisions are funny that way. They are not always right. They can often be wrong. Hell, I’ve made and continue to make bad decisions. Today on my walk, I passed a man out on his beautiful green lawn, spraying it with some kind of pesticide, fertilizer slurpy*, most likely Roundup or glyphosate. This poison is sprayed on most crops in North America, and in fact, most forests. One of the functional characteristics of glyphosate is that it acts as a desiccant, which is why it is sprayed on crops, to lower the moisture levels and increase the toxicity.

According to Greenpeace:

”First comes the clearcut.

Then, as the forest begins to regrow, helicopters fly over. They spray glyphosate herbicide – a key ingredient in Monsanto’s Roundup – across the landscape.

The chemical poisons and wipes out the regrowing trees, shrubs and plants. It remains in the ecosystem for years.

Finally, when the trees are dead, the logging industry returns to replant just a handful of tree species most valuable for logging. The natural forest has effectively been replaced by a near monoculture of pine and spruce, thanks to the help of glyphosate.

And this is happening every summer in Ontario’s forests. ( Fill in your local forest here) Indigenous scientific knowledge, observations from people living close to the forest, and an emerging body of Western science all confirm that the impacts are catastrophic. We believe that glyphosate and the additives that enhance its potency are harming the health and well-being of the water, soil, birds, plants, fish, amphibians, invertebrates, humans and other mammals. They warn of plummeting numbers of wildlife like beaver, porcupine, skunks, birds and bees. 

Plants that survive the initial glyphosate spray show strange mutations. Small amounts of the chemical have been detected years later in their leaves, fruit, flowers and roots, which are food sources for a wide variety of wildlife.

Strange mutations? Why that sounds like…..drumroll……cancer.

“A growing body of scientific evidence has linked glyphosate to very serious human health problems. High glyphosate exposure is found to lead to a significant increase in specific types of cancer.

Consuming foods with so-called “safe” levels of glyphosate kills off beneficial gut bacteria, which can lead to a wide range of health issues including chronic disease and mental health problems.

Glyphosate acts as an endocrine (hormone) disruptor and is linked with a higher risk of birth defects, miscarriages, and a range of fertility and reproductive problems in men and women.

Happy Mother’s Day!

So I go Fiordland* an afternoon walk, after watching the 76ers collapse. As someone who cheers against almost every team Beantown has farted out, the Celtics winning was not on my parlay, Charles Barkley.

Hey old Chuck, what is the deal with legalized gambling anyway? If they were going to legalize gambling, the least they could do is put Pete Rose in the Baseball Hall of Fame. I would even go for Barry Bonds, although Roger Clemens….The moral authorities of major league sports is worse than the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame. Imagine the RRHOF denying Keith Richards a place due to his substance abuse, as opposed to his defining riffs.

So I get out of the house, and get some sun, sun being beneficial to cancer patients.

(Are you sure about that?)

I’m walking little Miss Longtooth, and there is a guy spraying his bright green lawn with pesticides. To avoid the cancer causing toxins, we cross the street, as if the spray can’t find its way across the street, it being dispersed by air, as it is.

Q: Why Did the Pesticide Cross The Road?

A: You’re soaking in it.

On the corner, two families play baseball in their front yard, one kid whizzing pitches over hand, while the younger one attempts to make some contact with the bat. Two Father-types look on. There are also two dogs running amongst the kids, a Westie and a Labradookie*. The Westie is the purebred, the Labmade Dookie is the genetically modifurred* canine of the month. The Westie escapes the expensive new fence they put in this past fall, the weak point being the gate left open by rugrat #3 or #4. The one wearing pampers pull ups with the stunned expression on his face, I am guessing. The poor child has already breathed in his daily required dose of poison.

I am reminded here of my own Father painting the fence posts with creosote, which I ended getting all over my bare legs. Many of you may not know creosote is carcinogenic. My Father was most likely unaware. Of course, being a curious guy, I wanted to know if you can still buy original creosote?

A: Traditional Creosote can only be sold to Professional Users. ( translation: Yes)

Maisy says, I wear Huggies and Pampers because my Doggy Dad buys what is ever on sale. I buy for weight ( about 25 lbs) and manually cut a hole for the tail. The Westie escapes the ball game and runs up to smell Maury’s* butt.

Maisy is confused by the last autocorrect.

Maury? Really? Maury?

As in Licking My Butt with Maury? (Morry?) Morey Amsterdam and Rose Marie?

Oh, Rob!!!!

How was Little Richie conceived with two Twin beds? Did they push the beds together? Or did Mary Tyler Moore’s ballet lessons pay off big time?

On the corner we pass the old Finn, or Swede. Who really knows? He is a shirtless old white guy on the hot day. An old white guy in his late 70’s/ 80’s smoking.

Hasn’t he heard that cigarettes cause cancer?

At this point, I say let him be.

Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.