Whooee! Faithful readers know that every Sunday I been writin' up a boog story called Outrage o' the Week. You probbly been checkin' in every ten minutes t' see if I got my weekly growsin' posted up. I'm in a fix today on accounta I don't have anything too terrible outrageous gnawin' at me. I see now that I shoulda saved up that boog story I posted up yesterday 'bout the shoppin' carts. So now we got Sunday mornin' turned inta Sunday afternoon an' JimBobby ain't got an outrage. I'll jest blather on 'bout a few minor annoyances that aren't really outrages but they'll have to do.
Ma an' I jest had a bit o' fun bathin' ol' Spot. Ma din't end up with any wounds but I got myself what ol' Grissom calls defensive wounds on my hands an' wrists. Ol' Spot ain't really old. He's jest a pup about 16 months old. Up til today, he liked havin' a bath. We ain't sure what got into'm but - Lord Thunderin' - he went right nutty when Ma started in t' pourin' the rinse water over his back. Yeow! That's when I got wounded. We hadta keep at it til he was all rinsed an' he was tryin' t' climb up the tile walls an' jump outta the tub the whole time. I sed it was like bathin' a coyote an' I reckon that ain't far off.
That was an annoyance but it weren't an outrage.
Outrages are things like when the RCMP an' the prosecutin' lawyers spend 20 years buildin' a case an' it's full o' holes.
Outrages are when numbnutses like ol' Ezra go t' Montreal an' pass out pins sayin' the Charter's stupid. Canajuns love the charter an' even an Alien Albert like Ezra oughta known that.
Outrages are when WalMarket gets fined fer usin' illegal immigrant labour an' makin' 'em work 7 days a week. Ol' Peter Jennings sez WalMarket'll make the $11 million in jest 22 minutes. Half a million a minute an' they're usin' illegals an buyin' everything they sell from commonist Red China.
Sumpin' that ain't an outrage but's been grindin' my gears fer a long while is these here sticky tickets that the IGA puts onta every damn tomater an' zucchini an' apple an' pepper. The IGA pays sum young boys t' stick all them stickers t' every damn vegetable jest so's the young girls who's runnin' the cashbox know it's a tomater an' not a grape.
Way I figger, if they can't tell what kinda vegetable yer buyin', they shouldn't oughta be allowed t' handle the money.
Another damn annoyin' thing is I jest looked out my window an' I see there's sum snow comin' down. When's it gonna end?