The Ontario Occupational Health and Safety Act, Part III.0.1, has been brought to my attention. A statist agent has shown up on my meeting calendar, filled with self importance, demands that will reduce time and resources available for revenue generation, and a presumption of familiarity with my person. He seemed more an emissary from a rival than a parchment pushing clerk seeking a prebend. Skinning him alive is not on the agenda, not with third quarter results coming in, and the big push to make budget recommendations for fiscal ‘16. To silence this magpie, from discretionary funds, I have decided to grant all his demands. Mitchieville will soon have a program to develop a Workplace Harassment and Violence policy. I have just signed the requisition. The ink is still hot.
The Workplace Harassment and Violence program needs a manager, responsible to create a program to develop a policy of Workplace Harassment and Violence. Here is an up and coming manager, you may recognize from the Mitchieville Spring Witch Burning Festival that was held at Ian Paisley Community Center. It was Mitchieville’s most popular spring community event! Everyone is still talking about it. I loved the food, the smell of burning cedar, and the good times. He will provide exactly the sort of leadership needed to push through this program so that Mitchieville can be in compliance. I am confident that everyone will support him.
Do not be so glum. Why worry? Your taxes are the lowest you will ever see before they get higher and higher and never, ever, come down. Enjoy this moment. Come, dance under the mango tree! As we speak, the forces of Social Justice are seeking to disturb the bones of Nathan Bedford Forrest. Back in the past, our white racist rapist ancestors had opinions about disturbing places of burial. But, ha ha ha, our present atheist rulers have no beliefs in things like bringing the dead back to life, or unleashing angry spirits whose rest has been disturbed. To even suggest such a thing is a micro aggression. So I will not drive the likes of big red feminist to hysteria, tears, and a disability pension fueled by lobotomy effect capsules, with belaboring the point. Instead, let us embrace Global Warming Climate Change Social Science. Let us observe the effects of the event, this disturbing the barrow of the long dead. Will his spirit walk the earth and motivate the actions of the living? Or not?
Anyway, here are some quotes attributed to the nazgul, er, paladin Nathan Bedford Forrest. It will shine some light on what sort of things that the risen spirit will be doing.
So you have finally decided to say screw you to *The Man* and are finally ready to open up your own business. Good for you. You have a novel idea, you have unlimited energy, and so much passion that family members and friends can’t stand being beside you because you bore the shit out of them with your incessant ramblings about how *awesome* your new store is going to be. First of all, drop the word *awesome* – it is possibly the most overused word ever in the English language (show of hands – how many people, when hearing the word *awesome*, want to smash the face in of said *awesome* user? Surprise, 100000 to none).
Your store is going to be great, there is no doubting that. But how are you going to make your store stand out among the other 5 trillion stores in North America? How are you going to differentiate your place of business from the retail hell that takes up half of every livable square foot on this continent?
Simple. You are a royal prick and a condescending piece of shit that everybody loathes, therefore, you should open up a boutique.
Opening a boutique is perfect for people who think they have style, yet possess no more class than a maggot stuck on a chunk of meatloaf in a dirty dumpster. And that’s perfect for you.
Now that you have decided on the boutique meme, the next thing you have to choose is a name for your place of business. Seeing as though you have the boutique thing going on, the name of your store must reflect the snobbishness your boutique emits. Remember, you are better than everyone else, make sure your name has a snooty factor of infinity.
The Mayor has come up with a few names (perfect names) to help you out. Any one of these names is money in the bank. Feel free to take one, there is no charge.
Memories Cast In Salt Water
Footprints Drawn In The Sand
A Child’s Dream
Tender Heart, Baby Breath Kisses
A Walk Through Tyme
Enchanted Memories Of Love
The Mayor is sure he could come up with another 50 names in the next 5 minutes if he cared enough, but guess what? You got it, The Mayor careth not.
And remember – you can either use the word boutique at the beginning or the end of the name. For instance, you can either have “Boutique – A handmade Heart”, or, “Handmade Heart Boutique”.
Feel free to add to this disgusting list, the boutique crowd will thank you for it (in their own stuck-up way.)
Poor Big Red. If only she had consulted a reputable astrologer to warn her of the her choice of hair color. Now she is famous as the face of harpy feminism. Oh well. You can hunt down her multiplying images across the internet. Physically, she seems to have dropped off the face of the planet. I suspect she has changed her hair color. Probably works in Human Resources somewhere where she can castrate men in a official capacity.
Poor Bahar Mustafa. Kinda kicked up a shit storm with her #Killallwhitemen indiscretion. Scotland Yard is investigating, apparently. While not as cartoonable as Big Red has become, she is fast on her way to becoming a poster child for harpy feminism. Someone to watch, especially if she shows up working in the Human Resources department of the company you work for.
Poor Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake. She is the Mayor of Baltimore, of give them room to destroy fame. While not an object of internet stalking, she is also well above the position of Human Resources scrotum snipper. She does have the local police in a bit of snit. Crime is surging, er upticking, in her progressive city, but that is because of white racism. Being a progressive, I doubt she studied Roman History. Too many men in positions of power. Not enough progressive women of color. I wonder what happens when you piss off the Praetorian Guard? But then again the Police are not the Praetorian Guard. Yup
After some thought, family plans to vacation in Baltimore have been cancelled. After all, if the progressives cannot actually pay their minions, then why go paid protesting? I was so looking forward to taking advantage of the cheap hotel rates brought on by the economic collapse in that city.
So, the next question that comes up at the family dining table is where to go vacation. Gosh, I do not have a crystal ball, but I suspect that the racist, black killing police will be adopting a hands off, ’safe space for looting’ approach to law enforcement. Which is to say, there will be a spike in crime rates. I suspect that the local businesses in these new freedom zones will adapt in some fashion. After all, if your store gets jacked for some beer, then the gentle giant who jacked the beer gets ventilated by some neo-nazi in blue, then you can look forward to getting special arson treatment in the ensuing riots. I sure hope the business owners doe not develop a vigilante attitude and start ventilating the ‘payback for slavery’ activists who now have a ‘do not shoot me’ card from the po-po. Anyway, I suspect some sort of corrosion of customer service in the freedom zones.
Where will the freedom zones be? It might be a good idea to avoid them. These can be identified as urban areas with freedom loving progressive rulers, who will be busy persecuting their own police apparatus.
Should be an interesting summer.
I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.
Down at the offices of the Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party, there was excitement and much guzzling of liquor as the results of the British election rolled in. Aside from the potential of more statist money flowing into the coffers of the party (statists are incredibly incompetent at noticing details like the fact that our organization is in a country, state, province, city, municipality, and/or continent different from them), the prospect of legitimacy for Scottish nationalism made everybody happy. Also, we just got a fat cheque, er, check, from some city in Amerikkka for street youth outreach. So, we bought whiskey and party snacks (the Mayor got new summer tires) for a whoop up.
The Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party is the brainchild of Attila, an old school Hungarian nationalist who has a veneer of Canadian sensibility. He was active in Hungarian nationalist circles here in Toronto, but their gun running and para military training activities were getting the wrong sort of attention from the authorities. Toronto refused to give them a bicycle lane close to their downtown hangout, and the post office sent them a scary letter because some postie was afraid of their vicious dogs. Attila will tell you all the details, and embellish them with hyperbole depending on how much prune brandy he has slugged back. His problem (in his eyes, not the lies told by his third wife at the divorce proceedings) was how to get on the right side of the leftist bureaucracy and open up the conveyor belt of privileges, perks, and payments that come with being on the right side of the left. Attila does not use the expression ‘being on the right side of the left’, he uses the more politically correct term ’sucking leftist cock’ in a thick Magyar accent. Sucking cock is ok nowadays. They groom kids to do it in school here in Ontario, do not you know?
Anyway, Attila had a good idea. If the anti Semites can reflag into anti Israeli apartheid, then most about anybody can just change the nuance from bad to fundable. Given the cement head intellect of the lock step leftist paper pusher (thank you employment equity!), merely cutting and pasting some soothing leftist double speak onto a grant application form pretty much guarantees a payment. They never care much about results, as you can tell by observation of the failure of literacy programs in ending illiteracy. These people think that giving needles to addicts will get them to stop. Stop laughing, says Attila, start taking their money. Good advice. Do not be a pirate, be a Jolly Roger.
We have quite a diversity of nationalist sentiments in our party. We like to drink together, smoke at the bar, shoot guns, and put names on arrest lists to settle old scores. Just add the diversity, and leave out the selfies of us firing off the Carl Gustav at raccoons down in the Don Valley, and voila, we are acceptable to the Bolsheviks who write the pay checks in Toronto City Council. Only Mayor Ford could have sniffed out the truth, but, well, he is not around much now a days. Attila has a pool going on when Mayor Tory will send us some sort of Bravo Zulu for our diversity initiatives. Learning how to assault police stations, clear rooms with grenades, and torture prisoners for intel is an important part of community activism. It is in the third world, and, provided you leave out the assaulting police stations, clearing rooms with grenades, and torturing prisoners for intel bit and emphasize community activism, it is quite fundable here in the first world. Stick a prefix in front of nationalism and it makes it better. Just look at the anti-fa fascists. They get funding. From libraries, school boards, empty churches, ghetto municipalities, and failed states.
Jock is our voice of the Highlands. He is a Scottish Highlander who claims descent from the MacDonalds of Islay. He wants the Lords of the Isles restored to their traditional land claims. He used to consider anyone not a MacDonald to be scum. That is not a very Canadian way of looking at things, now is it. Now, thanks to the Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party, Jock is receiving a lavish 145,000 US dollars a year sinecure as a disabled minority animal control officer. The bogus disability claim we cooked up spans two feuding jurisdictions (New York and New Jersey) so the wheel barrows of money will flow for some decades. Jock could even pass on his pegged to inflation cash fief to his illegitimate children. There is unity of purpose in diversity … think of a bundle of sticks tied together … and that purpose is to spend other peoples’ money.
Even the less warlike nations can find a voice in the Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party. We took one of our Finnish members (actually, he was a stranger sitting at the bar while we were meeting in the meeting room at our hangout in Toronto, the Pleasure Center) and made him into the voice of Lithuanian Nationalism. You know, the past glories of the Polish-Lithuanian empire, er, Commonwealth . We took some pictures, put some pleasing progressive phrases on the application form, and voila, now the Finn is the face of the Lithuanian wing of the Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party. How progressive. Your average goof activist cannot count, let alone tell the difference between Finland and Lithuania.
So, come on down to one of the regular meetings of the Canadian Pan-Nationalist Party. Last night we were gloating over how the Scots are going to put the sausage to those Sassenach Limeys after that election, just like our never separating Quebecois separatists have been sodomizing the Canadian tax payers for some decades. Bend over Sassenachs, and hope the Jocks uses some of that free lube that the activists hand out to the street whores in most progressive jurisdictions. Grievance over past injuries done to long dead ancestors done by long dead others is a Canadian industry. Why complain about the Gravy Train when you can get a ticket to ride?
These balmy, hot and humid post Global Warming May days call for some greasy local meat done up with some taters and roots from the cellar.
Locavores will want to go with the plentiful Squirrel, Raccoon, or Ground Hog that infest our modern cities. I sure do like the rasvainen ja sitkeä taste of this Finnish delicacy that the Finns loved to serve to their Russian guests.
Here is what you need:
3 lb skinless, boneless Squirrel, Raccoon, or Ground Hog, cut up into bite size pieces
1 cup onion, coarsely chopped. You can keep the peelings for the compost bucket.
4 medium carrots, peeled and thinly sliced. Pitch in the green leafy stuff at the top for extra fiber.
4 stalks celery, thinly sliced
To taste black pepper
1 pinch ground cloves
2 Cups Badwulf Mill’s Premium flour
6 Cups water
1 med. potatoes, diced
12 Oz. bottle brown ale
1 package (10 oz) frozen peas
¼ Cup Butter
¼ C grapeseed Oil
1/4 C olive Oil