Hello friends. It’s been far too long since we had one of our little chats, and for that I’m deeply sorry. State of Affairs isn’t defunct, but we’re in a period of serious change, and as a result my myriad responsibilities as Prince of the Internet have taken me elsewhere and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. With that said, I’m going to make more of an effort to keep content coming on SoA, either personally or courtesy of my network of Correspondents in the form of guest blogs. Thanks for your patience; I really do appreciate it.
Thanks to the lovely long weekend afforded Canadians, I had a fair bit of time on my hands over the last few days, so I spent it wandering around Toronto. It’s relaxing and it gets me out of the dark, oppressive hovel I live in, so I figured it was worth braving the smog. But when I was walking down Queen Street this caught my eye:
Well cripes and begorrah, friends, hasn’t it been an interesting few days? I’d say it has, and frankly I’ve got a lot to nail down here, so bear with me. Of all the months for which I’ve done an “oddly enough” post this month has to take the proverbial cake. Got some doozies for you courtesy of the Strangest June in History.
Time to put the kids to bed and forgo the usual pasty preamble, my dear readers, because I’m going to get right into it today.
Blech. I woke up this morning with the unpleasant taste of patriotism in my mouth thanks to Monday’s sanctimonious post about the Olympics, so I immediately started looking for something more palatable to write about today. Thankfully, Correspondents James Herbert and Diana Poulsen came through for me with three stories generously spiced with my favourite palate-cleansers: jaw-dropping confusion and unadulterated rage. So let’s not waste your time, or mine:
Oh, the Sexy, Sexy French
All right, all right, I know some of you loyal readers out there are going to accuse me of being a pony with only a handful of tricks to my name, and I’d probably agree with you if I cared at all for having my job explained to me by the people who return day after day despite their griping about recycled jokes and tired content and MS Paint. But I have to say this three-part blog template is vastly preferable to rattling on ad nauseum for two or three thousand words about the same story, and if you search your feelings, young Padawan, I’m sure you’ll come around to my way of thinking.