Mr. F#ck You Rick Hansen

Every day that I am home in the morning my dad (who is 88 years old) and I walk up to the McDonalds on 4th Avenue and get a snack. Dad has a muffin and a tea, and I steal most of his muffin and drink what is left over of his tea. This day that we were sitting there I┬ádistinctly heard someone say “f#ck you Rick Hansen.” It was neither my dad nor I as we have nothing against the fine man. Then I heard someone say “f#ck you Cindy Loeb.” Then I heard the disembodied voice utter “f#ck you Stephen Harper.” It was then that I realized that enormous man sitting across from my dad and I was uttering these expletives under his breath every time he turned the page of the news paper. Pretty angry guy. I noticed that he had the word “h – a – t – e” tattooed on the fingers of his left hand in lovely calligraphy. Then he did his ventriloquism of venom again and said “better get your f@cking f@nances in order (mumble mumble) your time is up.” Well that was when our time was my dad and I high tailed it out the Micky Dees as the mumbling giant seemed ready to erupt.

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