Canadian PM Justin Trudeau Loves Ketchup Doritos & Yoga

Do Grade-A Squawkers like to snap at Saucy chips? If a recent shot revealed in our Ketchup Doritos blog isn't a rag o' lies, then that's a Ketchup Doritos dust-red-handed yes! A perched petulant parrot appears here in a photo next to a bag of Ketchup Doritos shamelessly here in one of the hallways of Winnipeg's Canadian Museum of Human Rights, his smug laugh reminding us of the last damned Canuck election.

If his fondness for reggae and incense teaches us anything, then it's safe to say his sinister plan is to teach our parrots to speak a single word each, and then to use his parliamentary leverage to ram through legislation to give them the right to vote, and you know which word he'll teach them. "LIBERAL"

Trudeau was once a drama teacher so you know that he wants to cause a bunch of dramatic feeling in the populace. He probably expects the Maritimes to think about how She left Him for the shifty-eyed American Choppers-wearing Assistant Manager of the Dixie Lee from Port Daniel, or to remind Saskatchewan of the moment when They realized that death was a true thing and Mama wasn't coming home.

The PM once drew a picture of a middle finger to depict the new Ottawa-funded Human Rights Building in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Defensively, his Press Attaché said,  "(Trudeau) didn't have time to make the Obama pinky ring because he was busy finding new reasons to collect personal income tax from ordinary Canadians."

Postcard-sized copies of the painting were bought and sold like common chattel. The original sold at an auction for $25,000 and could have been bought by anyone, even the crooked bastards from ISIS.

Some art collectors could see right through the water-coloured dream and were unimpressed.

If we've learned anything from this ordeal, you can teach a PM to Squalker, but you can't make him brink-smanship.

[Ed. Note: Jeremy Brendan helped to polish, buffet, and massage this article until it squealed with delight like some sort of porcine bride, unencumbered by the worry of the fall season and the looming political slaughter.]

Genetics or Beards Lead to Republican Tears

Am I just too busy hiding from extreme facial hair in my money pit to crack a book or has someone finally debunked science altogether? Or is it the practicality of facial hair getting caught up in and amongst the roughage a concern too big to justify.

Out of 15 U.S. presidents, only John Quincy Adams was able to slip past us, him and whatever else he was hiding in his ungodly wooly mammoth beard of great creation. We all know only God is allowed to make something that great.

No one?  Well, not all of it is necessary for me to keep on playing until the end of the 18th hole, mainly just Charles Darwin with his evolution stuff and whoever else trumpeters the dogma of science, right?

The ones to be called silly are those who followed him into the unknown abyss of genetics when we were safe and warm all wrapped up in a godly blanket or doing necessary shopping in Mayfair away from it all.

Let's take Donald Trump as an example. He asks the question of whether ethnicity is based on culture, genetics and heritage or rather how you look on the outside to someone like him who knows nothing about neither you nor science. Donald Trump would say the latter because he knows things, guys. Rich people are smart, aren't they? And there are many of whom agree, whole-heartedly.

He is speaking of Gonzalo Curiel, the all too Mexican-looking American judge who is presiding over a case involving Donald Trump and whom Donald has accused of having an absolute conflict, one where he is fighting with his genes and he is winning so therefore he could not judge Mr. Trump's case.

When Trump assumes something, he is not, as the saying goes, making an ass out of you and me. I would like to think that he is predicting the future. Trump explains why we should recluse every judge who keeps giving bad rulings in this incredibly necessary 12 minute speech.

Only those who are crazy enough to believe in the theories brought forth from vigorous experiments and analysis from the scientific method will trumpet the theories of science.

To tell you the truth though, maybe I am even scared of a little moustache and unlike Nas, my suit-wearing, judgie-mcjudgerton-ways have lasted so long that it's hard to tell.