You won't believe me... but it's true.

I am a mean, horrible and terrible person.

Now, now - I know you can't believe that. You have come to know me as nothing short of a saint. But, you see, there is a dark side as well. Allow me to explain.

In my 42 years of life here on this planet - there have been many incidents that have lead me to the shocking statement just made. More on that in a moment...

First: Snow, snow, snow. No, I am not singing that famous song from the train scene from Irving Berlin's WHITE CHRISTMAS. I am referring to the plethora of fluffy white that is gracing our fair countryside here in the Great White. (In honour of my Bro-In-Law, JR - I am talking about the storms. He LOVES talking about storms.) We had a whollop of a storm the day before yesterday. 19 centimeters of the stuff floated down from heaven. Today, another one. And yet another on it's way for Christmas Eve. Kids - that is a lot of shovelling.

And - I gotta hitch up the dogs to the sled and make my way to the Big City - Toronto - today. Hurricane Rona's two youngsters are comin' in via the train today into Toronto and Scrubbie here is afraid for their lives should Hurricane try to make the trek herself. So, Scrub's gonna take Hurricane up there to retrieve the punks.

Second: Christmas shopping. Yep - we celebrate Christmas. Not "Holiday Seasons" - Christmas. Sheesh. The shopping - done. To all Scrubbie's family and friends - if it ain't bought now - you ain't gettin' it. Simple as that. Besides, most of the retail stores here in the Great White - including the ones in our fair community here - don't take buttons in exchange for items. They all want cash. Hmph.

Now - back to Mean, Horrible and Terrible.

As a youngster - I tore the wings off flies.

I have used a magnifying glass with the power of the sun to see what would happen to an ant.

I have fed beer to the dog.

I blamed broken lamps on my brother.

I was involved with an incident at home where 32 gallons of water and a whole tank full of fish came crashing down onto the living room floor. My poor mother.

I have lied.

Cheated.

Stolen.

Smoked silly stuff.

Drank underage.

Pre-marital carnal relations. Naturally.

Tried to teach my young child that the big red truck that goes whizzing by when there is a fire somewhere is called a Kitty-Kat - imagining how funny that would be when he hits kindergarten.

Yes - I have basically broken every rule there is. The ten commandments - more of a challenge, really.

And, since hitting the tender age of 40 - have decided that I don't really like people. They generally drive me nuts. (Let's face it - when you go out shopping and such - don't ya just look around and wonder how on earth some of those whack-balls survive on a daily basis? Some of them MUST need a reminder just to breathe.)

But - what really takes the cake... what is the cherry on top... what is the definitive reason that your beloved Scrubbie, whose fabulous pectoral muscles are the envy of all, is really and truly a most horrible, terrible and just plain 'ol nasty example of the human race
...













Fillings for Christmas.

Yep - Scrubbie took the kid to the dentist at Christmas time.

giggle, giggle.