Free fantasy baseball pool, and any (and all, which may be about 10) readers are welcome to sign up. Just throw up a comment here and/or stay tuned!
Valentines Day marks way too many sappy stories in the paper. So at the very least I was able to freak out about something. Paula Simmons' article on the bottom of B1 was labelled "True love has neither labels nor limits" and only had about 5-6 paragraphs on the front page before being continued on B4. There was a big wedding-related preamble, a note that last month her second cousin Kristy got married, and the "See SIMMONS / B4" at the end of the front page. I didn't even have to turn to B4 before I had already guessed the punchline (accurately, as always): Kristy's "beloved" Chris was a dyke. Pretty soon, blah blah blah, slag at Prime Minister Harper (that must get Simmons' goat, I just love saying it), the beauty of poofter weddings in general, no gender roles to "fall into", all that jazz.
Brief sidebar here: I love this "being locked into traditional gender roles" line. In Simmons' world there's some sort of horrific criminal underbelly to the concept of BEING A MAN and acting in a manly fashion, and its some sort of offense against humanity when there's a husband who isn't effeminate and a woman who isn't a butch living in a happy fashion that, as Colby Cosh noted in the National Post last month, is pretty much brilliantly biologically engineered.
Anyways, Simmons ends off thanking "all her gay friends and relatives". How many sodomists does a single woman know, anyways? As I've noted before, if I didn't work in an industry that has a disproportionate number of pillow biters, the number of fudge packers I'd encounter in the course of my life is best expressed lim [e^(i*t)+1], t->pi.
