I just went over to help myself to another one of the yummy Montreal bagels. They're sitting on a desk right next to the outgoing mail tray. As I was making off with my third breakfast treat of the day, I noticed the envelope on the top of the stack. It appeared to be a note-card. The envelope was a pretty blue one and the name and address were hand-written in loopy, girly writing. The name on the envelope was
Mr P Martin.
What? Can it be? Does somebody in this office have a personal relationship with the Prime Minister of the country? Is it a birthday card? A thanks-for-last-night card? A note asking him to please dig his head out of his arse and notice that we voted him in* not because he's as freakin' awesome as he thinks he is, but simply for lack of a viable alternative.
The fact that it was curly, girly writing leads me to the only logical conclusion: he's having an affair with one of the women in the office. The Prime Minister of Canada is having an extramarital affair. And you heard it here first.
Is it too soon to go back for a fourth helping of breakfast?
*That's 'we' in the collective sense, not the personal sense. I voted Green.
Ha, I wonder if he really was having an a affair if it would be a big a scandal as the whole sponsorship debacle. It's funny to me, an American, how outraged Canadians get about such tame political "scandals." If our politicians aren't wasting inordinate amounts of money we get suspicious and vote the out.