Yep, it’s our birthday and this year we get to celebrate the 200th anniversary of us kicking some yankee ass; it’s good to be a Cannuck. I know that certain Americans, namely Allison McCarthy still struggle with insecurity over this matter by her constant threat to launch a bald eagle attack. To this I say, we shall overwhelm you with numbers because the beavers are already sleeper agents in your country. Your eagles are so few in number that they shall be unable to compete. The ever vigilant Canada geese have made large inroads as well, and we know that you live in fear of the fly by poopies. Go ahead, wash your car and see what happens. Our complete and utter awesomeness shall never be denied.
Throughout the year, as a Cannuck, I have to put up with a lot of trash talk from Sparky and malt liquor swilling Monica of Transgriot (and it’s particularly bad because the American alcohol content is crap). What they don’t realize is that this constant fixation on Canadiana does not reveal a deficiency on our part, but ENVY on theirs. Yes, green, green envy, but I can’t blame them, of course they envy us. We have REAL bacon, maple syrup, poutine, ketchup chips, and Tim Hortons. We make lumberjacks sexy, have a national anthem that everyone can sing without cats screeching in pain and red and white looks good on everyone. We also have a wonderful talent for unloading our undesirables on the world – Justin Beiber anyone? No, you cannot give him back. The British are attempting to fight back with One Direction, but no one can possibly be more annoying than Beiber. I fear that once again they have been outdone by the colonials. Hah!
We can proudly say that we don’t have to disown the likes of E.L. James because no Canadian would ever stoop that low. We respect natural resources too much to have trees die for that horror. With her strong accent, the poor Brits can’t even hope to deny that she is one of theirs. At this point, the Americans may be giggling but I have two words for you – Stephanie Meyer, the woman who started the entire mess.
As I mentioned last year, being a Canadian takes plenty of patience. There are constantly snide remarks about our weather. At border crossings, we have actually had Americans show up in July with ski gear and tukes (note: it’s tukes not hats) and ask where the snow is. Below you will see the temperature today.
Clearly this means it’s hot as hell and perfect beer and bbq weather. Even as I am sweltering and melting, sure enough, Sparky or Tami of the infamous fly over states will make some comment about igloos and ice skating. I used to be annoyed by this, until I realised that surely the problem is their education system – and this is especially the case for the ugly Merican Tami (Bob Jones University anyone?) Math and science should not be optional subjects. Is it any wonder that the nation which is busy trying to convince the world that creationsim counts as real science, would have such difficulty with temperature?
Well, I would stay and throw some more salt in your wounds but Canadian beer calls. Before I leave, I thought we should have a little chat about gifts. It wouldn’t be a true party without gifts and I know that some of you (and rightly so) are dying to show tribute to your betters.
Since we already have so much, it wouldn’t be fair to take, and so we would like to give instead. We offer the world the following:
Sorry Alberta but you have to go.
The right dishonourable Stephen Harper who comes with one pint of Alexander Keiths.
And no, we don’t want Ryan Seacrest in exchange, but thanks for trying though
Finally, because we know that you’re dying to taste it despite all of the protestations to the contrary, One steaming bowl of…….
Don’t say that we never do anything nice for you.