I’ll just say it flat out - I won at Monopoly. Actually, I didn’t just win. If I had barely snuck out a victory, I wouldn’t be wasting your valuable time writing about it now. I fucking destroyed those assholes!

The other day, I’m hanging out with my buddies Robbie and Cliff, when Warren Buffett drops by out of nowhere with his Monopoly board. I didn’t really want to play because Buffett is an absolute monster at it, and I know there’s no way any of us is going to win. Unfortunately, we didn’t really have anything else to do, so we dug in. As it turns out, that was the game of my life!

It came as no surprise to anyone that Cliff crapped out almost immediately. That guy just doesn’t have the mental capacity to really compete at this level. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is no joke (unless someone makes a joke about it, then it’s totally funny). I’m just glad he landed on my property when he busted out (I’m also glad that he doesn’t understand how to count. ‘No Cliffy, you rolled 7.’ Ha! What a jackass.)

Robbie started to get a little worried and made the tactical error of rotting in jail while Warren and I built up our holdings. He also made the tactical error of falling for the old ‘what’s that behind you?’ routine as I swiped most of his cash. He was out soon enough, and it’s down to just me and Buffy, who has apparently slipped in his game. He’s on the back strip, and just needs to avoid rolling a 2 or a 4 to land relatively safe. What does he do? Rolls a 4! Holy shit, what an idiot! That’s Boardwalk, you fucking moron. Now the game is barely 40 minutes old, and I’ve already got the world’s second richest man mortgaging half his shit. He says he has a meeting in twenty minutes, and asks for a draw. I told him he must think that Cliffy and I have the same alcoholic mother. I’m owning your shit, asshole!

The next roll he lands on Baltic (all hotelled up to the 9’s). That’s going to cost you your Go money, plus another $250. He offers me a blowjob instead and I tell that dirtbag to hit the road. The game is mine in less than an hour! Surely this will turn my luck around.

Ride on the Reading
Leave your dignity behind
And some real cash, please

That seemed to raise his ire somewhat. I guess none of us like to have our mistakes pointed out, but I felt it was an important point to make. The gentleman then poses the same question to me. I replied ’sorry, I’ve spent all my money on poems, but I’ll read you one if you like.’

He says ‘fuck poetry.’ Which is fine. Poetry is not for everyone, conversation over. However, he was not finished at all. He proceeded to lecture me ‘first of all, you’re not sorry, so don’t lie to me.’

Well, now I’d had quite enough. I had no intention of allowing Gilles to see me be talked to in this manner. It’s bad for his self-esteem. I countered to the gentleman ‘don’t tell me I’m not sorry! Do you have eyes that can gaze into my soul and know my intentions?’ At this point he spit on me. Now was the time for action. Sure I could walk away, leaving Gilles scarred for life, but looking at this gentleman, I though that I would be able to take him in a physical confrontation. So, I ordered Gilles to sit, rolled up my sleeves, and started my attack with a kick in the testes.

Well, this douchebag drops like a sack of potatoes, and I figured the contest was mine. Unfortunately, there was an unforseen wrinkle to come. My opponent snaps his fingers, and three large gentlemen in expensive suits come to his aid. He’s got henchmen. Fuck me. Quickly, I threw my keys to Gilles and screamed at him to run home and call the police. What are the odds that a panhandler is going to have even one henchman, let alone three?

That’s when it hit me. Maybe I could win this battle with reason. I pointed out to the gentleman in question that maybe if he were to take these men off of his payroll, he would be able to re-work his budget so that he no longer has to live on the street, begging for change.

In the interest of brevity, I will summarize the story thusly: the gentleman took my advice, apologised for spitting on me, and relieved his henchmen of their services. The henchmen, upset over their termination beat me to within an inch of my life. I crawled home to find Gilles on the couch watching TV, and in a furious rage, I called the hospital to arrange for an ambulance. Upon my release from the hospital, I promptly called the veteranarian and scheduled Gilles for euthanasia. Let’s see how that affects his self-esteem.

Poetry in hand
You wanna do this? Let’s go!
I’ll miss that traitor

Cuba has turned to capitalism!

Finally, after a week-long struggle, I was able to convince Fidel Castro that the whole commie thing was a dead end. I could sit here and take all the credit, but to be honest, I think it was the bacon ‘n egg mcmuffin that turned the tides. After spending the first few days espousing the economic advantages of democracy and capitalism, I gave up and just started flying in different kinds of fast food. I got the idea when my secretary, Gregory, rattled off the old adage ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’

I pointed out that the saying was useless, because no one actually makes decisions with their heart. I then called him an idiot and told him he shamed his family. He cried for a while and then committed Hara-Kiri with a letter opener. He will be missed. Still, he did have a point.

I showed Fidel the McDonald’s menu, and the guy actually wants the Fliet-O-Fish (fuckin pinko. Are you serious with that shit?) I talked him into a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese. He finished the thing in three bites, wipes his mouth and hits me with a ‘pretty good.’

Pretty good? Are you out of your fucking mind? Fettucine Alfredo is pretty good. Superbowl XXIX was pretty good. Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey was pretty good. That Double Quarter Pounder was un-fucking-believable. At this point, I was starting to think that maybe communism would never be toppled. Then he grabs the McMuffin. He takes one bite, drops to his knees and screams out ‘I’ve been a fool! Communism is for jerk-offs!’ 10 minutes later, there’s a statue of me in the city square, next to a Denny’s. What a great day for humanity. You’re welcome.

Believe in yourself
You can achieve anything
You dirty commie

He’ll chastise me for my poor investment strategy, and I will counter by telling him to stop cheating on his wives with pre-pubescent girls. He’ll put me in prison, and I’ll give him the silent treatment. It is the same routine every year, and I wouldn’t even go if it wasn’t for the unbelievable spread at lunch. You’ve never tasted peanut butter so good in your life! The smooth kind is like putting brown silk on a slice of bread, the chunky is made up of individually rounded peanut morsels so uniform, you’d swear that the children who made them were being beaten for any mistakes.

I guess the reason I get so defensive every year is that he really has no standing to question my finances. He inherited $40 billion from his father, and has managed to turn that fortune into $10 billion. Excuse me, Hassan, of the two of us, which one has blown $30 billion? I started with nothing; I used to live in a house with 6 people because I couldn’t afford my own place. Look at me now, I live in a house with 3 people - so I’m doing twice as well as before. Clean up your own back yard, H, you tend to your business, I’ll tend to mine.

Arrogant sultan
I’ll eat your peanut butter
But no sermons please

I am in the middle of my turn, already at ninesies, while Leo lags behind at threesies. He is getting frustrated and leaning over the playing area. That’s against the rules so I decide to throw a brushback bounce to clear the area. The ball hits him in the eye and he just freaks right out. He starts in with the name calling, and I get sucked in. I tell him that his grandfather’s vision of spreading communism world wide was short-sighted, and I imply that I engaged in sexual intercourse with his mother. It was childish, but my emotions run high during jacks.

At that point Leo was furious, and looking for any sort of competitive edge. Seeing a jet passing overhead, he bet me 3000 rubles that I couldn’t hit it with the ball. I told him not only will I hit the plane, I’ll catch the ball on the way down. Now, to be honest, I really didn’t think I could do it, but I’ll be damned if I was going to back down at that point.

So up it goes, and to my surprise, the ball smashes through the jet and sends it crashing down to the ground over by Exhibition Place. Still in disbelief, we agree to head over and see what we’ve done, so Leo doubles me on his segway and we are on the way.

Once we arrived at the wreckage, we were amazed to find that there was only one casualty amongst all of the passengers. Then, the rest of them died (most of them due to heart attacks resulting from the shock that only one person died in the crash). Luckily, before they died, they all signed waivers absolving me from any litigation (criminal or civil), which was a godsend.

Anyway, Leo reneged on the bet because I didn’t catch the ball afterward. I told him that the catch wasn’t part of the bet, it was just shit talk, but he was having none of it. Really, I was just happy to avoid being charged with hundreds of counts of murder, so I wasn’t going to get all riled up over a few thousand rubles.

I realise that this all seems hard to believe, so I made sure that Leo got a picture to prove it. Unfortunately I don’t have a scanner, but what I can do is describe it for you. It’s me, wearing blue swim trunks and my old Mats Naslund jersey standing in front of a crashed jet. In the background, you can just make out Godzilla eating Santa Claus. What a day!

Friendly game of jacks
It turns ugly, plane goes down
No Christmas this year

I have been told that I should start a blog, so I did. Let me start by saying that I am against blogs in general. All the interesting stories in my life get told on stage, so I don’t know what to put here. I am certainly not going to be doing any material, but that only leaves stories that aren’t funny or interesting (please reread this paragraph if you have any doubts).

Therefore, I have decided that I will fill my blog with complete nonsense. If you would prefer not to waste your time, I suggest that you stop reading now. Here we go:

A few days ago, I was walking home from my piano lessons when I saw that the orphanage near my house was on fire. It was especially odd because I had never noticed an orphanage on Queen St. before (or since). Now, I’m not a big fan of kids, but I had an hour to kill before Law & Order was on so I decided I would save them.

When I got inside, I could barely see anything with the thick black clouds of smoke (also, my vision isn’t really all that stellar to begin with). I decided that my first move should be to break into the office and get all of the files and paperwork down to safety. After all, what’s the point of saving these kids if no one knows who they are?

Once the records were downstairs and back in alphabetical order, I went back up to save the children. One of them started yelling at me for taking the files first. Obviously, this little shit was going to be the last one rescued. I picked up an armful of tots, which was about 10 or 12 at the start, but down to 7 by the time I got to the street because I dropped some. By this time, the fire department had arrived (thanks for nothing, fellas) and they grabbed all of the kids that I left behind, including the little mouthpiece from upstairs.

Well, now this one kid really starts talking shit, and at that point I’d had enough. So I decided to teach him a lesson in manners and I threw him back in the fire. Don’t worry, the fireman rescued him again, and this time he kept his mouth shut. Maybe now someone will be willing to adopt him.

At this point, David Miller arrived (or Mayor McDave, as he prefers to be called) and gave me the key to the city and said that November 21 will forever be known in Toronto as Fraser Young day, which was awfully sweet. Then the cops arrived and arrested me on 1 count of attempted murder and 5 counts of littering (for the kids that I dropped). Mayor McDave said that it was the first time in history anyone had been given the key to the city and arrested on the same day, so we shared a high five!

Orphanage in flames
I have to save all of you?
Are your legs broken?