The Double Exposure Radio Blog

So here’s what we know so far. The federal Conservatives took two months off to ‘recalibrate’. A lot of us don’t actually know what that means. Does it mean they hit a large tuning fork and suddenly Stephen Harper started to vibrate? Does it mean they took some calipers to measure Jim Flaherty and discovered he was actually seven millimetres taller than we had imagined? Does it mean they corrected the range of Mike Duffy’s mouth so that it goes off every two minutes instead of every five? If, by recalibrate, they mean they thought up some new ideas, then I can certainly see evidence of that.

Right off the bat, they decided to make the Speech from the Throne twice as long as it usually is, meaning that by the time it reached the 40 minute mark, the only people still watching were frontal lobotomy patients and those with a fetish for the Governor General’s shoes.

Next up was Jason Kenny, the Minister of Hidden Agendas, who re-wrote the Canadian Immigration Guide and conveniently left out the part about gay rights. Maybe it wasn’t intentional. Maybe he wrote it while listening to the Speech from the Throne and just dozed off when he got to the gay rights page. And if you believe that, I’ve got the stick and gloves of Sydney Crosby, for sale…cheap.

The Conservatives followed that grand idea by deciding to re-write the national anthem. Here was something long overdue, eh? It started just after the prime minister was seen on TV, right after the men’s gold medal Olympic hockey game, not singing along to the anthem, it appeared, because he didn’t know the words. After that public embarrassment, he probably ordered the Ministry of Lyrics to change the words of our anthem to something that all Conservatives could easily sing along to, something like “O Canada! La la la la la laaahh.”

Then Maxime Bernier, the Conservative MP now simply known as “Monsieur Oops”, brings out the next plank in the new Conservative agenda. After recalibrating global warming, he announces that it’s all a hoax, based on serious scientific research that he did himself, but he doesn’t have the research with him at the moment because he left it at the girlfriend’s last night.

As you can see, all that recalibration has the Conservatives just bursting with new thoughts. Stockwell Day has now joined the parade of perky plans. As part of the Conservatives’ Economic Axing Plan, and just to show us that he’s serious about trimming the massive federal deficit, he decided to slash jobs in the bureaucracy, you know, just get all brutal and Machiavellian like. So, he got in there with his big knife and cut 245 positions from government boards and agencies. All well and good, except that 220 of those positions were vacant, so, in fact, he got rid of 220 people who didn’t exist. Fired their non-existent asses out of there! How are they ever going to make those non-existent ends meet?

What will they come up with next? How about a new rule that cabinet ministers can get on any commercial flight they want to just by pounding on the cabin door and screaming obscenities at local residents. Oh, wait! That’s already been done.

Get more comedy from Bob Robertson at www.doublexposureradio.com

The Olympics are over. What a party!  But now, I must warn you of a serious illness that many of us may succumb to at the conclusion of the 21^st Winter Games.  This malady was first discovered by doctors at the Ralph Klein University, shortly after the ‘88 Calgary Olympics.  It’s called POVBD, or Post Olympic Vacant Brain Syndrome.  Here’s what happens; for two solid weeks, for all of our waking and sleeping hours, our brains have been consumed with nothing but Olympic thoughts, such as; why do Ice Dancers wear costumes that Elton John would reject?  Why does Brian Williams keep telling me the time?  Where does Lloyd Robertson get his dentures and why don’t they fit?  And then suddenly, it all stops.  The brain is without stimulation, resulting in Post Olympic Vacant Brain Syndrome.  Symptoms are a lot of blank staring, people wandering aimlessly searching for lines to stand in, and in severe cases, screaming GO CANADA in the most inappropriate places, like public toilets and U.S. customs lines.  POVBS hits the news media the hardest, so if you see TV reporters standing on street corners in a catatonic state, just carefully approach them, and let them ask you what you think about the weather, or the government, or the HST, or traffic, or ferry line-ups, and that usually snaps them out of it.  You can avoid this tragic disease by finding other thoughts to fill the void, thereby warding off the ‘vacant’ factor, and so I am happy to supply you with some things to think about:

-Windmills always turn counter clockwise, except in Ireland.  Windmill experts chalk that up to excessive Guinness consumption.

Speaking of Guinness, they just gave the world’s biggest dog record to a Great Dane in the States.  He’s 3ft 7ins tall, and 250 pounds. And then they almost gave the World’s Smallest Human record to a man who is 22 inches tall, until they realized that someone had just put shorts and a cap on one of the Great Dane’s giant downloads.

-When you are born, you have 300 bones, but by the time you’re an adult, you only have 206 left, so obviously, the government is stealing our bones and selling them to Jell-o.

- The oldest piece of chewing gum is over 9000 years old, and was found stuck under a 9,000 year old high school desk.

-The starfish is one of the few animals who can turn its stomach inside out.  The other one is a university student at a kegger.

-The Nobel Peace Prize medal depicts 3 naked men with their hands on each others shoulders.  And I think we all know that when herds of naked men hang around together touching shoulders, the first thing that breaks out is peace. 

I believe your brain is now full.  My work here is done.

For more fun with Linda check out her podcast at doublexposureradio.com    

U.S. President Barack Obama hosted a summit at the Whitehouse last week, trying to get Congress to pass his new, latest healthcare package, now with added lemon, and fortified with Vitamin D and aloe vera. Before he began the discussion in front of a room full of powerful foes, as well as some Republicans, he began with a speech. Depending on who you are, the speech sounded quite different. For example, if you were an ordinary American, this is what President Obama’s speech sounded like;

“Our projections indicate health insurance premiums will rise substantially and businesses are having to make decisions about dropping health care coverage for their employees. Also, the escalating costs of medical care in this country are aggravating a deepening federal deficit.”

If you were a Republican, this is what President Obama’s speech sounded like;

“Universal Medicare is just the beginning of my plan to throw out the corrupt system that is capitalism with a new system of government where the proletariat will overthrow the bourgeoisie, and where the motto for all Comrades will be; ‘From each according to their ability to each according to their needs’”.  

And if you were a Democrat, this is what President Obama’s speech sounded like;

“Blah, blah blah, blah blah, blah blah blah blah.”

For more political satire from Bob Robertson, click on www.doublexposureradio.com

We are a little over half way through some kind of incredible Olympic party here in the Lower Mainland and Whistler.  Depending on your age, you are not going to see anything like this again in Vancouver in your lifetime.  I know I won’t because my age is…well…it’s bigger than a breadbox.  If you are born today, and you live to 2160, which is entirely possible, depending on how much of that pro-biotic yogurt you eat, you might witness another event that focuses the world’s attention on Vancouver, but I’m trying to imagine what that could be.  Alien spaceships landing at Georgia & Burrard?  That might do it.  I can see the news clip now:

ALIEN:  Greetings human.  We have come to your planet to take part in the 2010 Olympics PARTYYY!  Take me to your Holland Heineken House.

BIKE COURIER:  Whoaa, bummer dude.  You’re like 150 years tardy. 

ALIEN:  WHAT??  You idiot, Zirtnud!!  I told you the GPS was sending us the LONG way!!  Well human, if there are no Olympics, can we still get a Japadog we have heard so much about?

BIKE COURIER:  Affirmative dude.  WASABIII! 

So, seeing as this is a once in a lifetime thing, for me at least, I thought I would take this opportunity to gush just a smidge.  I think it’s all FANTASTIC!  Pretty much from top to bottom.  Especially the WEATHER!!  Oh sure, we could have had more snow up on Cypress, but look at this place.  Have you seen the shots on CTV from the broadcast centre?  It’s like tourism porn.  In the 90s when I had a show on CBC radio, I travelled to every part of this country.  I saw the Yukon in March, where it was -20, and I got to ride in a dog sled, and learned about flying poop, but that’s another story.  I was in the Northwest Territories the following April, where it was -78 with the wind.  They called it the ‘Land of the Midnight Sun’, but I renamed it ‘Land of the Frozen Snot’, because at those temps?  Man!  No matter what you did, 5 seconds outside and you ended up with a frozen lump of crud hanging off your nose.  I’ve been told by some people over the years, that they don’t like Vancouver because it’s too dark in the winter.  They prefer the sunshine you get further east.  Sure.  But you can’t go out in it.  If you spend more than a few minutes in that ‘sunny’ winter weather, your face freezes completely, and then it just falls OFF!  And it’s pretty hard to get respect when you don’t have a face.  And that’s why everyone wants to come here.  Just ask that Spanish fellow from the south…Senor E. Nino.

For more fun with Linda check out her podcast at http://doublexposureradio.com 

A special Investigative Report from Double Exposure Radio;

As the City of Ottawa shivers under one of the coldest winters ever, a new threat has risen on the streets of Canada’s capital, a threat that has residents nervous about going downtown; gangs…on every corner, loitering, harassing passersby, turning Ottawa into a city of fear. Is it the mafia? The dreaded Hell’s Angels? Russian criminals? No. Something even worse; these are gangs of MPs, members of Canada’s parliament turned bad. Kicked out of their house for months on end with nowhere to go and nothing to do, aimlessly wandering the streets of Ottawa, and making life miserable for the citizens of Bytown. Women we talked to are just plain scared to go near them. One woman said;

Well, I was walking along Bank Street yesterday, planning on heading to the Glebe for a bit of shopping when I spotted a gang of these MPs on the corner up ahead. They were just standing around smoking and spitting on the sidewalk. As I got closer, they looked up at me and that’s when they started yelling and shouting those awful MP words…Shame! Shame! Shame!”

I yelled, “What am I supposed to be ashamed of?!” But they just kept on yelling…”Resign! Resign! Resign!” I yelled. “Resign from what? I don’t have a job! What do you mean resign?” And one of them said…”Those are the only words we know, sorry.” So I kept on walking but behind me I could hear them going after another pedestrian yelling Shame! Shame! And Resign! Resign! It is disgusting. If the police or somebody doesn’t round up these parliamentary hooligans, somebody’s gonna get hurt! Well, okay not hurt…but they might end up resigning for no reason whatsoever, or even feeling unnecessary shame.

The City of Ottawa held an emergency meeting, putting together a task force made up of police, social services and the clergy to try and stem the tide of parliamentary hooliganism. They opened drop-in centers for MPs in various city locations and filled them with foosball and pinball machines. The director of one of the MPs drop-in centres was Madame Marie Lessard, an outreach worker who reads Hansard as a hobby and knows the types of individuals she’s dealing with. She says;

The problem with MPs is that they have no marketable skills, well other than knocking on doors and handing out election flyers. They’re all pretty good hand shakers, but with the flu bugs all winter, most people don’t want to do that. Some of them know how to kiss babies, but you have to be careful with that kind of thing in this day and age. But mostly, you have to remember that when they were in the house they spent most of their time in their seats sending text messages and Tweets to their friends. The Conservatives are the least skilled of all. After four years, they can’t even speak without getting permission. Being out on the street, they just don’t know what to do with themselves. That’s why they start harassing pedestrians. In here, we have given them Foosball and pinball games and free coffee and they seem to be enjoying themselves but, mostly, I feel sorry for them. They are pretty despondent about ever being able to go back to their house.

Despite having drop-in centers to go to, the MPs have become more aggressive by the day. The police are now frequently responding to 911 calls about unruly MPs. One constable from the Ottawa police force told us;

Yeah, these MPs have gotten right out of control. I had a call this morning from a man in apartment. There were about 20 members of parliament hanging around his corner, yelling at people, you know shame shame, or resign. That’s not so bad, but now they’re holding up little cardboard signs that say things like “Will Abstain for Money”, or “Hungry for Majority Government” or “Can You Spare some Change for my Re-election? God Bless”. They’ve formed a gang. They all call themselves the Pro-Rogues. Yeah, hilarious, right? Honestly? If these people don’t soon have a house to go back to, Ottawa’s gonna turn into an armed camp. Up at the Ottawa Carleton Regional Correction Centre, they’ve already got a separate wing just for MPs. I’m just fed up with seeing them on street corners like this.

Gangs of listless, unemployed and bored members of parliament are wreaking havoc in the City of Ottawa. Only one man on earth can clean Ottawa’s street corners of this scourge…but he’s busy with other important issues at the moment. Issues like taking in some Olympic hockey games in Vancouver and hoisting a pint after watching the downhill skiers in Whistler. Once emergency situations like these are well in hand, the job of getting Ottawa’s house-less MPs will finally get the attention it deserves.

This has been a special investigative report from Double Exposure Radio

With the arrival of each Olympics, there is a magical transformation that overtakes me.  Doesn’t matter whether it’s the winter or summer variety, however, in this case, of course, it’s the winter one.  What is this magical transformation that I undergo?  I start to believe that I, Linda Cullen, am an athlete.  That’s right.  As I sit, slouched on my couch, watching the opening ceremonies with my giant movie theatre sized bowl of lime flavoured tortilla chips and salsa perched on my stomach, plus a blender full of margaritas within arm’s reach, the moment our athletes march into the stadium, a fire starts to burn inside me.  At any other time that would usually come from indulging in a little too much chipotle dip.  But during the Olympics, that fire is my inner athlete coming alive!  Yes, I actually start to believe that I am an Olympian!  Did I say ‘magical’ transformation?  Sorry, I meant ‘DELUSIONAL’.  I was discussing this very topic yesterday morning during my bi-weekly Marvelous Muffin break with my husband.  As I was tucking into my 2^nd butterscotch pecan, I said to him, “You know, I think that I could be a great speed skater,” spraying him with muffin as I spoke.  After he wiped the starchy chunks off his face, he replied “Sure, there’s really only one thing you’re missing.” 

“A Team Canada uniform?”

“The ability to SKATE!…and you hate exercising…okay, that’s TWO things you’re missing…no, 3 things, because by the next Olympics you’ll be fiffff….

“I’ll be WHAT?”

“Um…you’ll be like a fine cheese, WELL aged.  Oh and the 4^th thing: you have to dedicate yourself for years and years to this one goal.  You won’t buy a family size tub of Neapolitan ice cream at Costco ‘cause you think it’s too big a commitment.”

“Yeh, family size, if you’re Brad & Angelina.  How much Neapolitan can any one person take?”

But, after mulling all this over while chewing a Double Fudge muffin…chewing helps the mulling, by the way…I had to admit he was right.  I am no Olympic athlete.  It’s funny, though, how you watch these folks and think, without really thinking, hey I could do that!  Remember Eddie the Eagle, at the ’88 Calgary games.  He was the worst ski jumper, probably ever!  But he was still 200 times better than ME!  Because he still trained, and was committed; some thought he should be committed.  No, sadly, as I sit here watching all the events with my bag of Oreos and Brangelina sized tub of Neapolitan ice cream(you-know-who said the price was too good to pass up) I realize I am nothing like an Olympic athlete…I’m much more like the Olympic cauldron at the opening ceremonies…I just can’t get up.

For more fun with Linda go to www.doublexposureradio.com

Every so often, and by that I mean, every 10 to 15 years, I find it necessary to clean my drawers.  Oh, now I should clarify that, because depending on when you were born, you might think that ‘clean my drawers’ means that I have gone 10 years without changing underwear.  Come on! That would be ridiculous!  Honestly, I find it tough getting past 4 or 5 months!  No, I’m talking about my bathroom drawers; they appear fairly small, but in reality hold 6 tons of junk!  And when you finally dive in, you find some interesting things.  For example, I’ve got about 8 half used tubes of toothpaste.  Why do they have to keep making fancy tubes that look nice, but the more you squeeze, harder it gets to squeeze any toothpaste out?  Really, all I want from my toothpaste, is that I can get it from the inside of the tube, to the outside, without swearing like a trucker…is that too much to ask?  I have 93 different bottles of hair products.  It’s my never ending search to find that perfect mousse or gel that I can slap on my head and get fantastic salon styling, without actually having to exert any energy, instead of the hour I spend blowing, ironing, curling, puffing, smoothing, crimping, clipping and twirling.  Needless to say, I have not found that product. Come on NASA, you’re not going to the moon anymore; you’ve got plenty of time for mousse research.  I found roughly 20 sponges.  Not sure why I needed so many sponges, perhaps preparing for the rising of the oceans, I live in Richmond after all.  Found a few of those teeth whitening strips.  Last time I used those, I left them on too long, and pretty much melted all the gums in my mouth.  I’ve got one of those home freezing wart removal things.  It only works if 3 bouncers pin you down, so you can’t yank whatever body part has the offending nubby away, once your skin starts sizzling and smoking.  And I’m not gonna lie to you, I’ve got dozens of mud packs and creams that are supposed to fight the signs of aging.  There’s even a little electric sanding device that’s either for stripping off the top layer of my face, or for buffing the car.  Can’t remember which.  But the strangest thing I found is a firming gel for, um, the old ‘headlights’, or in French, ‘les hooteurs’.  So, apparently, I believed that if I slapped this goop on the sagging glands, they would instantly defy 30 years of gravity, stand at attention, and possibly, sing the national anthem, and do all this for only $2.49!  That’s right. I’ve been inhaling far too many hair care products.

For more fun with Linda go to www.doublexposureradio.com    

Yes, you can start singing along, “Spring Time for Harper in Parliament”. Just thinking about it gives me the goose steps. Who is this guy anyway? Did somebody open a box one day and start assembling him like an IKEA desk, except there was one screw missing? Is he like Pinocchio? You know, the wooden person who becomes a human, except in Harper’s case the change-over never happened. And now, he’s going to force all MPs to miss the spring break because he wants to show Canadians that he’s a hard worker in the spring time, as opposed to being a slacker in the winter?

I can’t believe that a guy who flaunts the Canadian system of government, who manipulates its various bodies to his own sneaky purposes, ever became the prime minister. Were we all knee-crawling drunk when we staggered to the polls? Are we thrilled with a prime minister who muffles his caucus so completely that they can’t even break wind without written orders from the PMO (”Sorry ladies and gentlemen, the minister will not be taking any questions. He has a fart to deliver and then he must leave”)? Are we thrilled with a prime minister who keeps running over to Rideau Hall to twist the governor General’s arm (”I know I said we’d have a fixed election date but that was just a promise and, really, who keeps promises anymore?”)? Are we thrilled with a prime minister who shuts parliament down for two months to “recalibrate”? Well, the dictionary says ‘calibrate’ means “to adjust by comparison with a standard”. I believe the standard for comparison here was, obviously, various episodes of the Three Stooges.

Look, I get it that you have to use strategy to beat the other parties in a democracy, but Stephen Harper’s strategy looks more like what Wily Coyote used on The Road Runner. It seems like a good idea at first, but you always know that in the end that round bomb with the burning fuse is going to explode and leave you, as all exploding bombs do, with a black face. In Stephen Harper’s case I can actually see the red of embarrassment now starting to show through the black soot from the bomb.

Compounding this high-handed dictatorship (or is that redundant?) is the fact that there is no decent opposition leader to take on Harper in an election. The Liberals seem as if they’d like to ponder Michael Ignatieff for a few more years, you know, send him round to universities to have discourses, speak at frat parties and quietly consider the expanded suffrage aspects of Jacksonian Democracy, and then maybe have some Jasmine tea.

Nevertheless, if an election were held today, the Liberals could probably win a minority government with a fence post as their leader. In fact, I would propose arranging that right now. Pick a fence post, this one would have to be from Quebec because the Liberals insist on rotating their fence posts. Do a little photo shoot. Have the fence post posing in front of the statue of Sir Wilfred Laurier, slap the poster up, start the TV ads. Give the media 5 second clips of the fence post speaking and, trust me; we‘ll wake up to a Liberal government. And there’s nothing wrong with being a country run by a fence post. Until Obama came along, America had done it for 8 years.

There’s more humour from Bob Robertson at www.doublexposureradio.com

Guess what?  I’m back!  And boy have I missed you!  Really, I have.  A LOT.  How much, you ask?  Well, I’ve missed you as much as Barack Obama misses that Massachusetts senate seat.  I’ve missed you as much as Conrad Black misses showering alone.  I have missed you as much as Cypress Mountain misses frozen water falling from the sky.  In other words, a whole bunch.  It’s been almost a year since I was last printed in the hallowed pages of 24 Hours, so obviously there have been a lot of changes in our city since then.  The first change is that you’re probably reading this on your way to work and wishing that the guy sitting next to you would stop reading over your shoulder, and also wishing that the same guy had actually showered this morning and didn’t have majorly bad coffee breath while praying that he stops rubbing his leg against yours…on a brand new, shiny Canada Line train!  Another change is that Vancouver has just become the most unaffordable city in the world!  I think what finally pushed it over the top is that giant flower wallpaper on the front of the art gallery.  I mean, who can afford to live in a city that wallpapers its streets?  They should have got Debbie Travis to do a textured finish with some paint and a sponge; much cheaper.  And I have not been idle these last ten months, oh no.  I’ve spent the better part of that time as a marriage councilor.  I got my degree from the Elizabeth Taylor School of Psychology and Fine Jewellery Appraisal.  And I must tell you, I have been inundated with work.  First, there was Jon and Kate.  She was suspicious that Jon was fooling around.  I said to her Kate, I can tell you, with complete confidence, that a man with a forehead that large is a trustworthy man.  Come on, you could write ‘I am a trustworthy man’ 20 times on that giant cranial tundra.  Okay, missed on that one a bit.  Then Brad and Angelina came for help, they felt they were starting to grow apart.  I suggested they adopt more children, maybe Jon & Kate’s eight,  because I think we all know how having 6 or 35 children can bring a couple together. But my biggest challenge was Tiger Woods.  He told me he was tired of swinging the same way day in day out.  I said “Tiger, variety is the spice of life!  Why do you think you’ve got all those different clubs in your bag?  Now clean your balls off and get back out there!”  Apparently, he wasn’t talking about golf!  So, while I search for yet another career, it’s sure great to be back.

For more fun with Linda go to www.doublexposureradio.com          

So, who do I believe knows more about the weather; the groundhog, or my local TV weather person? I would like to say it’s the groundhogs because you’ve all probably noticed that your local TV weather person has been about as accurate at predicting as the Toronto Maple Leafs are in hitting the net. I’m going to go with the groundhogs because, aside from sending out jolly greetings to women who are celebrating their 102^nd birthday, TV weather persons are not really of much use at all. I used to be a radio weather person and I know how totally useless I was. When the forecast didn’t happen the way I’d read it that morning, I hid indoors all day fearing for my life…okay not for my life, but at least for my reputation as a smooth, glib weather babbler with the funny joke at the end of every weather forecast. The fact is that weather forecasting, even in this day and age of satellites and computers still can’t get it right. That’s why I’m going to go with the groundhog as more knowledgeable because, well, why not? At least it provides some entertainment when they hold the poor chubby little feller up to the cameras and claim that he saw his shadow that morning.

   Now, how they started this annual event I don’t know. Somebody in Pennsylvania would be able to tell you. The truth is that groundhogs aka woodchucks, aka whistle pigs, hibernate during the winter and yanking them out on February 2nd wakes them up, making them pretty grumpy. Any hibernating animal that is rudely awakened gets grumpy. This is the main reason that nobody wakes up bears on February 2^nd to ask if they’ve seen their shadow. Come to think of it, that’s a ceremony I really would watch on TV; the day they shake Barkley Sound Biffo out of his slumber, especially the part where 200 people run away screaming like girls. All in the name of weather forecasting.

   It’s a silly business this weather predicting. That’s why the Lithuanians got it right and started doing Naked Weather on TV. By the time the weather stripper has finished you don’t remember anything from the forecast except “we’re keeping an eye on a big front”.

Get more humour from Bob Robertson at www.doublexposureradio.com