|FOOTBALL COACH-TURNED MAYOR ROB FORD practises the magnificent diving form that will serve him well in his later adventures in after-hours bars. (See below.)|
After an exhausting day yesterday of dodging exactly the kind of questions a crack-smoking mayor ought to expect at press conferences, Rob Ford is headed to Ottawa for the Big City Mayors meeting he routinely bashes as a waste of taxpayers' money. (And if that surprises you you clearly haven't been following the flaming trajectory of obstinacy-infused buffoonery that is Rob Ford. You have no idea what you're missing.) We can pretty much guess exactly how this is going to end, so I'm going to save myself some time here and prewrite the entire thing:
"Rob Ford is recovering in an Ottawa hospital today after splitting a barstool in half with his big head. The bizarre incident capped an eventful day for the buttery magistrate. After leaving the Big City Mayors meeting, Ford was ticketed for littering while en route to an after-hours strip club managed by disgraced senator Patrick Brazeau. He then locked himself into the bathroom for an hour, snorting peyote off the latrine until he felt safe to re-emerge and demand repeated assurances from the staff that, no, they hadn't called the paparazzi and no, that wasn't his wife, Renata, peeking in the windows (all of them) and taking pictures. "It's Karen Stintz!" one of them cruelly joked, prompting the mayor to clumsily dive for cover. The mayor's brother, Doug, has wasted no time pointing out that "it's all them guys' fault for teasin' Rob, and what kinda place has fancy-schmancy marble stools anyway? That's the kind of crap that drives taxes up!"