The Antisocial Socialist

Did you miss the Honourable Wife-Beater? I gotta say, I missed the Honourable Wife-Beater a little. When we have a competent mayor actually putting some effort into straightening out our transit nightmare, we can look back with fondness and slight embarrassment about that time Justin Bieber tried to score crack off the mayor.

Anyway, he's been in "rehab getting sober" (if by "rehab," you mean "his cottage" and by "getting sober" you mean "giving the keys to his SUV to his new lady friend so that she can go on a beer run"). Despite a noble attempt to change the locks while he was away, he returned after two months, triumphant, yesterday to give an apology, by which we mean a campaign speech to a hand-picked group of reporters. Naturally, he did not allow questions, and tried to turn the focus once again to his fucking diet that no one cares about.

Lest you suspect that hizzoner is a changed man, feast your eyes upon today's glorious spectacle, in which a shirtless jogger confronts the Laughable Bumblefuck on his racism, homophobia, and corruption during a Canada Day parade.

Best quote: "I'm out for a jog buddy, do I look like I'm on a campaign?" Eh, I'd vote for that dude. He seems cool.

Welcome back, douchecanoe! I look forward to four more months of relentless amusement before Olivia takes over and my poor city can reclaim its sanity.

I think there must be something akin to the Kübler-Ross model of grieving for politics. The first stage is idealistic enthusiasm, followed by uncomfortable compromises, followed by disillusionment, then hatred, then despair, then more hatred, and finally maniacal, endless laughter.