Further In and Further Down

This is just about the classiest thing I’ve ever read.

Also: read all the comments. They’re AWESOME.

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Go head. I’ll wait.

Didn’t that make you feel good about your government-appointed senators? 

I, for one, was all for an elected senate. Still am. Would I have elected this gem? Not a chance. My vote wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since she’s not anywhere near where my electoral district would be. But if I saw Nancy Ruth at the bar, I’d probably tell her to shut the fuck up. No matter what she was saying. I’d just walk up to her and say: “Nancy Ruth? Shut the fuck up.” 

And then she’d be all, “Er,”

And I’d be all, “I’m sorry. Did I stutter? Shut the fuck up.”

This conversation would continue on in this fashion until one of us (most likely me, given my luck with bars) got kicked out by one of the bartenders. 

I might even see Nancy Ruth at a grocery store, and I’d walk up to her in the fresh fruit section, and I’d say: “Nancy Ruth? Shut the fuck up.”

And she’d say, “Don’t push me. This is not something you want to get into.”

And I’d say, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear. Shut the fuck up.”

In fact, I might even send her eighty-three emails a day, each of which contained only those four words. I’m seriously considering making a bunch of shirts. What better way to show your Canadian pride than by wearing a tee shirt that says: “Nancy Ruth says we should shut the fuck up. So let’s shut the fuck up. You. Shut the fuck up.”

Now that I’ve said that so much, it strikes me as a very funny phrase. Maybe she was trying to be funny.