Happy Inaugeral Boxing Day or "Oboxa day"

All this talk of a new president of the USA, let's not forget who's officially gone. Good-bye Bush, you will be missed only by political sketch artists and skit comics, and take your Trek with you.

It's the day after and the big news here in Canada is that Omar Khadr is coming home. For those of you stuck in cells at Guantanamo Bay, he's a young Canadian with brown skin that has been detained at the fore mention facility (not the affluent private learning institute where boys should spend their young lives) since 2002 when he was arrested at 15 years of age on the lose accusation that he murdered an American soldier in Afghanistan. I'm not going to go into to many details as it's pretty sad. But, it took President Barack Obama all of one morning (I heard it on the news here at 6:00am!!!! Seriously, did he even have coffee first!) in office to put the wheels in motion to have Omar (we are all on first name basis with this young man here) sent back to Canada. The people of Canada have been literally begging PM Stephen Harper to step in for 6 YEARS! Now, there's an Ass Clown that makes even Peter Duffy look like sane and competent representative of the press. Believe what you like from the media, but I believe that torture is bad and this young man belongs in Canada for his trial.

I don't delve into the old spectra politico, but there's a little window for you. Yes ,we certainly can! I most definitely have a man crush. Especially after I heard, from Stevil Kinevil, what Obama and Michelle are into. Yeowza!

Skip to 1:55 if you want. Ohhhh, and you want.

It's not that I don't like updating the here blog. I couldn't! My Computer has been buried under an enormous pile of procrastination (that's the stuff that clogs up arteries). I would like this to be an inspired post, but it's not. I'd like to clip through it like when my nails get orange from ketchup, but I'm going to trudge through it like I did the 30cm of snow that fell since Monday. I have pictures here depicted both trudges.

Much to my chagrin there was no wildlife on my recreational trudge so I added a cardinal. A truly majestic rendition if I may say.

The augmentation on this photo is to demonstrate that I trudge on always with one eye, while the other wonders on occasion. On this occasion it has noticed that my Propeller Bitter has evaporated. The observant of you will notice that in my mouth is a bit of saucisson, this natural and not the product of my crafty photoshop whims.

Bikes, eh? Easy, Tiger. I have bike content. As I'm sure you've heard young Miss Atherton has been involved in a collision. Here's a full report by someone else followed by a conspiracy theory by me.

Was it an accident? Or maybe, just maybe, a ploy to strike fear into her would be opponents. Sure she looks a little banged up, but that's the point. She's a beast who feeds off of pain, that of her enemies or her own! She's the youngest you know that's good training for pain threshold. Who could set aside that fact that they're about to head down a trail competing against some one who took on a truck in a chicken match and then swerved back into the trucks path when it chickened WITH NO HELMET! This girl may look sweet, but she's gotta be an absolute animal. 24 hours after the accident (on purpose-dent?) she's cooking dinner. WTF! She is the eye if the tiger!

All joking aside, I wish Rachel Atherton the speediest of recoveries. Get some good drugs, dear. I don't think they test for medicinal marijuana anymore. Not up here anyhow. You guys down south should talk to Obama about that.

I just saw a great movie called "The Bicycle Thief". By great I mean late 1940's, black and white, with subtitles. A must see for anyone who's ever lost their bike to ne'erdowells in the night. you'll have to feel that roller coaster of emotions, but this time in Italian with no colour. On a lighter note the movie does feature some delicious looking mozzarella bread.

I'm gonna try to post up some of the stuff I've been eating. You in cyberspace might not know this, but those the real world (or Fleshbook, I think they call it) know that I eat like a ride. No limits!

Here one for ya. Since we're talking Italian.

I call it Lasagnus Olympus (or Pasta of the home of the gods of man). It was huge and it was gooooooooooood!

I'm gonna wait for the crowds to die down before I return the reforms that don't fit me that I got for Inauguration Day. Cheers!