Yawn. This whole town is wiped. The Sens are on a losing skid, and seem leaderless. My Leafs are a running gag, although now that Darcy Tucker (right) is back, maybe they will regain some of their attitude. Then again, probably not.Must be the mid-winter blahs and all the snow. Maybe it was the Spector/Rock snoozer held at the so-called Ethics Committee gong show. I note with only mild amusement that none of the press corpse dared to feed any interesting questions to the committee members, and when they learned from the old cook at 24 Sussex that Steffie Camaro actually LIED in her book On The Fake (maybe fantasize is a better word - Ed) it was not thought worthy of a news story. No wonder they didn't want Steffie to testify.
The blahs are getting to the pinkest of the journalists - the vampires - who have been infected by Count Ignatula and are all plotting together to feast on my blood, except for one small problem - I'm not bleeding.
Well, dear Diary, it's almost Spring, and in the Spring a young man's fancy turns to maybe calling a Spring election. It appears I have checkmated the Office of the Leader of the Opposition, who must now get real on Afghanistan or face ruin.Let's see who blinks first.
But then again, would I rather face Backpack Boy for another couple of years, or the Count, or his self-righteous faux-Lefty sidekick Norma Bob Rae? Or even worse, somebody credible like John Manley*, or, perish the thought, Frank McKenna?
*John, truly, the offer is still open if you want to change sides.
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