I’m pumped! Can anyone in Economics Ville please help me, and I’m sure the rest of the country, understand how (and you might as well throw in ‘why’) oil companies have decided to, once again, give us another ‘Lube Job’ by raising the price of a litre of gasoline by almost five cents?  Overnight! Out of the blue! As oil prices fall! That’s a mighty hefty kick in the gas can!

I would tell the Premier or the Prime Minister that we’ve been sucker punched but I dare not interrupt them. They’re usually in bed with the slippery dipsticks who make these rather ruthless and dysphemistic decisions. A nickel a litre is like hitting triple 7’s at the casino. Ain’t nobody going to leave the ‘one-armed bandit’ till the bells stop ringing and the fat-cat oil execs starts singing, “Another round for my good friends! Roll out the barrel and while we’re at it, let’s raise the price another nickel next week. Everybody’s a winner!”

Oh yes, we are indeed winners. More like wieners I think. Little porkers that are poked, choked and smoked by a gutless gang of gas gougers who would have us believe they are doing it for the good of Mankind.

Well, this little piggie knows better but can’t do a damn thing about it! My friends, Robin Hood is dead! The Sheriff and his men have won out in the end and their goal is obvious: Steal from the poor piggies so the rich hogs can have more!

That’s all I can say for now except I know my tank’s closing in on the big ‘E’ and tomorrow I’ll be reaching deeper into my pockets (and whatever I can find in my piggy bank), just like the thousands of other suckers who really have no choice but to pay the Pitiful Pipers of the Pump!

One thing I do know about finance and economics: pigs get fat – hogs get slaughtered. We can only wish. One day my friends…one day…



Tsk, tsk, Tiger! You’re back to your old self…AGAIN! You have shown the world (at least those of us interested in Sunday golf) what a genuine bonehead you can be. There you are, at the infamous Par 3 Bear Trap, five holes remaining…five strokes behind leader Rory McIroy… all eyes (and ears) on you.

Your shot fights its way through strong, swirling winds, barely makes it across the ravenous lake (which has already swallowed 60 or so golf balls) and plops down safely a foot or so from the edge of the green.  It may not have been the shot you had planned or hoped for, but it did put you in position to make a difficult birdie or at least par.

But you blow it….AGAIN! The camera zooms in for the reaction shot and catches you red handed with your guard down (thank goodness it wasn’t your pants…AGAIN!) Three words, in the form of a combined question and exclamation: “What the FU…K?!”

The plaque beside the statue of the bear on the hole of this Jack Nicklaus-designed course warns “It should be won or lost right here!” And you, Mr. Woods, lost it…AGAIN!

 Hey, I’m not a prude and could probably go toe-to-toe against you in a swearing match but your egregious vulgarity in front of the world takes the class out of Classic. The folks at Honda will certainly not be happy with your outburst. They like to brand themselves as a family-oriented company. They invest a lot of money in the hopes that that the entire family will tune in and watch the world’s best golfers compete.
Tiger, you lost a ton of respect for past indiscretions and you promised not long ago that you would change things for the better. But your “What the F..K?!” was a triple bogey and you know very well that no one can be a winner with this kind of unnecessary and most important, unprofessional behaviour.

I have changed the channel and am now watching figure skating. Funny thing, one of the leaders just attempted a triple axel and fell to the ice. He got right back up, regained his composure and finished his performance with a smile and a wave to the appreciative audience. He may not win the competition but he definitely showed a lot of class. Something that you did not Tiger…AGAIN!


Singer Rihanna has asked on more than one occasion, “Ooh na na, what’s my name?” Well, if you must know, I think it’s Stupid…Royally Stupid!

Granted, I know very little about the Pop superstar (sorry Ri, I mean MEGAsuperstar) except that at some point she must have really pissed off a fellow Popper (I think his initials are C.B. but this has nothing to do with him). IT’S ALL ABOUT REEEEEEEEEEHANNNNNNNNNNA!

Listen up poor-to-average Joe’s of the world: Rich girl Ri recently blew $23 000 to have her personal hairdresser flown, FIRST CLASS…FROM LONDON (yes, England!)…to LOS ANGELES (as in California). Holy Schwarzenegger!

It seems silly Ri took a dip in her 5* hotel pool and followed that up with a sit in the sauna and an ahh in the spa. Well, if that wasn’t enough to put the angle in tangle…What a hair-raising experience…I tease you knot!

Oh, I know…she tried her best to make things right. She applied copious amounts of conditioner (she should have known that  that complimentary 5* stuff is crap)…she combed and combed…alas, nothing! Even Rapunzel would have felt sorry for her BUT IN ALL LIKELIHOOD WOULD HAVE RECOMMENDED SOME VERY CAPABLE LOCAL L.A. STYLIST!

“Tomorrow I have a t.v. appearance!” she may have blubbered. “Call Ursula (surname Stephen…obviously the only qualified person on the planet) right now and tell her to get her  British butt over here pronto! I need her…..NOW!”

Well, who’s going to buck the whimsical wishes of Medusa herself?…look her right in the eye and suggest, “I know a great hairdresser just down the street. It’ll be a lot quicker.” (Not if you want to be turned into stone and thrown back onto the street, from whence you cometh!) “Ursula it is!” our most regal Rihanna. Talk about your Queen-For-A-Day hair-lift! Money is no object for this beauty queen. I trust, dear reader, that you would agree with the Ri…after all, stars of her stature should surely get everything they want…

Unless, of course you’re Mick Jagger who has tried to ‘sell’ us otherwise or one of us average-to-poor Joe’s who refuses to relish her kind of royally-rich, ridiculous rants and over-the-top dubious demands.

The verdict is in: the twenty-three thousand dollars in question was enough to have purchased over 300 healthy goats for Third World families who have learned to put personal grooming second to scavenging for their next meal. 50 000 pints of milk could have been donated to any one of so many Breakfast or Lunch programmes right here in our ‘Hood”. Ten or more  war veterans, returning home, a limb or two short, could have been fitted with protheses. So many possibilities; so little consideration. One GIANT mistake…

Rihanna leaves little doubt that she, above all others, is THE true Queen of Poop!

*****By the way, if anyone has any other ideas on how Ri could have better spent her $23 000, I’d be happy to hear them…I’ll publish the best in an upcoming blog.


We owe celebrity chef, Jamie Oliver,  a SUPER-SIZED thank you. In the March 5, 2012 edition of Canadian Business (“Winners & Losers”), it was reported that he (and his band of revolutionary food gurus) sounded the alarm (either before, during or after) a McDonald’s USA invite to McDiners to tweet any and all nostalgic or memorable family moments spent under the reputable rooves (or should I say ruse?) of the Golden Arches.  Oops! Big mistake! A tale of tainted taste buds!

McDonald’s garnered more negative feedback than a night at Air Canada Centre watching  the Maple Leafs “Please-stop-booing-we’re-doing-the-best-we-can!” brand of hockey.  To paraphrase Abe Lincoln (who thankfully never wore a Leafs uniform), ‘you really can fool some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time’…unless, of course, you work in the McAd department. McDonald’s foray into the untested world of Social Media proved to be one small McStep for Mickey D’s and one giant bleep from its supposed fan base. America’s corporate, baby behemoth took one square on the McChin.

Ammonium hydroxide anyone? That’s what Oliver claims McDonald’s had been using in its hamburger preparation to turn parts of the cow (usually reserved for making dog food) into an offering of mouth-watering McHamburgers. AMMONIUM HYDROXIDE! Mr. Clean knows about it: a CHEMICAL used in the formation of household cleaning products! The boys in the War Department know about it: an important CHEMICAL used in manufacturing explosives. AND THE BOYS IN THE McLABS KNOW ABOUT IT: 1.Take meat (reserved for dogs). 2. Mix with AMMONIUM HYDROXIDE (Warning: Use eye protection!).  3. Grind meat scraps mixture into a pink, meat-like paste. 4. Form into patties. 5. Add seasonings and flavourings until it smells like ground beef (which it really isn’t but that’s our company secret isn’t it?). 6. Flash freeze and off to market… Enough to make anyone McBarf!

Allow me add my two cents. Years ago, a well-known Greek restaurant owner/friend told me a tale about a group of high-up McDonald ‘suits’ who often frequented his establishment for staff meetings and/or power lunches (they preferred real food). On one occasion, he overheard an excited babble about a new product that was to be introduced into the McDonald’s ever-expanding product line. Move over, pseudo-beef burgers. Chicken McNuggets have arrived!

Raise your hand if you’ve ever tried one (or six) of these golden gems of lightly battered and seasoned, all-white chicken pieces, served hot and juicy with your choice of dip (don’t even bother trying to pronounce most of the ingredients). Tell Ronald McDonald to wave the McStar Spangled Banner and lead his loyal McFlock to try these magnificent, magical, mouth-watering morsels that even the poorest of poor can afford. It will be Love at First Bite!

Now for the bad/sad news…According to my insider restauranteur/friend, these so called all-white chicken, lightly-battered chunks were not meat at all. THEY WERE GROUND UP, PROCESSED CHICKEN BONES! Hey, if one has the brains, the chemicals, the machinery and the balls to do it, then anything is impossible. It even proves that some THING can come from no THING! A bit of a McBig Bang Theory wouldn’t you say?

Of course, that was then, this is now…McDonald’s has apparently stopped the use ammonium hydroxide (I would too if I had a gun to my head) and, in all likelihood, has altered its McNuggets recipe (Weight Watchers endorsed them as healthy in 2010…Google it, ye of little faith!). There’s no telling what collateral damage has been done to the faithful flock of McDonald supporters who, for decades, have put a Big Mac ahead of mom’s home-made meatloaf. Time will tell (just like Jamie Oliver did). We’ll leave any alarming or shocking health impact reporting to the statisticians at Heart & Stroke or the American Cancer Society. It just goes to prove, however, that if you kick a stubborn mule enough times in the ass, it may grudgingly budge.

So McHats off to McDonald’s for making things right (at least that’s what we’ve been told), but, more important, three cheers for Jamie Oliver and the growing army of Food Revolutionaries.  I pray no one puts a McGun to your head…