So the new season of Rob Ford: Mayor started! You may remember that at the end of last season, we were left with about 30 badrillion questions:
Well, Commissioner Lewis has stepped in to say that the call went like Chief Blair said it did. That is, no “bitches”, no “I’m Rob Fucking Ford” but he did say “I’m the one who knocks”. Wait, what? I should have said spoiler alert, guys. That’s on me.
So what the shit are we going to do with the rest of season 2? SEASON 3?! AREYOU KIDDING ME?! Are they still using that Morphine song in the opening? YOU BET THEY ARE.
Yes, I realize I just switched shows. It’s a fat joke, dummies.
So what happened in the season premiere? Ford’s budget got the finger! You guessed which finger! The “middle” finger! That’s the one that means “up yours”, or “you’re a bad driver” or “I’m Rob Ford and I’m driving and dialing”.
So who won? It seemed like Ford won that middle finger incident. You don’t even need that finger, except to give the finger. I don’t even use that finger to type. The Star’s Christopher Hume says we all won and lost. I call that “wosing”. Speaking of “wosing”, Ford has planned a diet: what are you going to say about him now, Downtown Lefties?
Take it to Jilly’s, Hume! Sobelen’s on the fat case, and he’s got better jokes than Hume (except not really)
Metric-sexuals, that’s it? That’s the best you could… forget it. The joke doesn’t matter, because Snobelen tangentially makes it all about health care, which is boring, and has nothing to do with Rob Ford: Mayor. But you know who does make it all about Rob Ford: Mayor? Sue-Ann Fucking Levy! You’d think she was Rob Ford’s mom the way she goes after people. You’d think he was her kid who was hitting other kids at school and she was going to take it to the superintendent.
Pffft! Newbies, right? Buncha rookies making the rookie mistake of thinking that what their constituents want is what’s right.
Who, indeed? What math degree was that, Colle? I don’t think I remember seeing your math degree any time recently, which is the way to become a budget guru. Here’s his thing where he’s like “I love hockey and CBC bands” though.
I’m just going to repeat it: CHAMPAGNE-SWILLING. Fuck you!
I wonder if anyone has ever used the phrase “These obviously aren’t nuclear economists” about rocket scientists. On the other end of the untalented and ideologically entrenched spectrum, the probable – what? It’s the American spelling – fictionally named Royson James gives us a rousing performance of “Dong Dong The Budget’s Dead”, using the verses no-one remembers to fit in couplets about the mayor’s eventual demise at the ballot.
It’s hard to say “doomed” and then immediately say “reckless rhetoric”. In fact, I’d say it’s hard to say “reckless rhetoric”. That’s one of those phrases that is what is says? A tautology? What is this? Philosophy class?
That’s a fat joke, right? I guess we need to pack them in (ha) before the big guy (ha) finishes his diet.
Well, things seem normal: nobody has any idea what reality is, there are opinions and there’s yelling, and Mike Strobel’s making caveman lawyer jokes in an article about “hookers”.
Why are they Jewish? Why does everything have to be exactly what I expect it to be, 100% of the time? Kung Hei Fat Choy, guys.