King Robbie with mad stacks, schemin' on a Canadian Miss World contestant. Original photo via.
I haven’t jumped in to defend Toronto’s Great Pink-Faced Hope, King Rob Ford, since the whole city called him a drunk. At the time, it seemed like he was handling the hangover quite well. That was until he walked face-first into a television camera and yelled, “Fuck man. Holy Christ!” at the camera man, before disappearing into his King’s quarters for what I presume to be a relaxing afternoon of guzzling wine from a chalice in freshly ironed robes—while prerecorded high school football games flickered coldly from a kickass TV onto his sweaty, bruised face.
Since the infamous face smash, it seems that Rob Ford has been opening himself up again, for the quadrillionth time, to being shit on by Toronto’s disloyal media outlets that insist on questioning the King’s demands. For one, there’s the whole issue of a casino popping up somewhere by the lake, the official royal waterway through which the King receives his naval shipments of pigskin and rye, near that County Faire we call the CNE.
The plebeians who are forced to live in the dirty, downtown metropolitan core of the city—which Paul Godfrey, the lord in charge of the OLG, has reminded us is “not a residential area” because shitty poor people aren’t legal residents of anything besides their own misery—object to having a den of sin and despair placed in the same area their scummy children attend public school. Rob Ford has reminded these losers that a casino represents a “golden opportunity.” I can only assume the casino lobby group has promised to buy his high school football team sweet, new jerseys as a direct result of such great PR for their noble cause.
King Robbie even took time away from slamming his face against video equipment and scheming up new ways to get kicked out of military banquets just so he could write a letter to the city of Toronto explaining his love of gambling. The letter is fairly boring save for the fact he wrote “golden opportunity” twice, in such a way that you can literally hear the dry, pink skin of his palms rubbing together as he salivates over the thought of chicken fingers being served to him by a casino waitress, while gambling for new football helmet money.
Furthermore, Rob Ford’s love of the phrase “golden opportunity” can only mean that the condition upon which his football team will receive casino-sponsored jerseys is if the team itself is renamed to the “Golden Opportunities.” His repetition of the phrase must be his attempt to create a meme that will blow up just in time for the rebrand—like Drake did with “YOLO.” So you have to look at it this way, impoverished complainers who hate poker and blackjack: if King Robbie is willing to rename his football team, why aren’t you willing to accept his demands to build a multimillion dollar gambling complex in your backyard?
But anti-casino dickfaces aren’t the only people my main man Robbie is telling to suck on it: there’s also those horrendous individuals who enjoy taking a rental bike out for a beautiful, leisurely ride through the city without stressing over much more than where they’ll need to drop their ride off later that afternoon. A radical socialist group called Bixi Bike is looking to borrow even more money from the City of Toronto to expand their bicycle empire. Rob Ford’s stance on that? “I’m not going to subsidize it. Absolutely not.” And why should he? Robbie’s still hurtin’ from that $400 he had to pay the government in gas and rental fees after using a royal carriage to drive to and from his football practices. The anti-football audit squad is back again, and they are out for pig’s blood.
Most recently, Robbie got on the radio and invited female Canadian citizens out for coffee who are “over the age of 18” to call him “at home” so he could “explain how politics works.” Seems kinda desperate for a King—and you would hope that his standards for a hot date are far more specific than simply being a certified Canadian citizen with a highly tenuous grasp on government and politics, but I guess everyone has a type! Clearly this man is just looking for love. So ladies, if you want to learn about politics from the same man who was fired and then successfully, somehow, reversed his firing, call my man up now at 416-233-6934 and prepare to be wowed.
Follow Patrick on Twitter: @patrickmcguire