Canadian Humor
I’m a Canadian. A rogue Canadian living in L.A. There’s many Canadian Angelinos. We can spot each other from a block away, through the aneroxic cocaine weasel stooges, the paparazzi, the faux police and the too-young-to-be-homeless style hippies. We don’t where flannel, but we look like we could at any moment if someone pushed us too far.
“Excuse me,” says a plastified mother at the automated checkout line of a Whole Food Market, “Could you hold my fennel while I water my child.”
I don’t know exactly what she means, but I just want to turn around and say, “I’ll hold your fennel, if you hold my pocket knife while I put on my flannel.” Yeah, just watch me boldlerize fashion like it’s going out of style.
