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Wednesday, 31 October 2012

image for My life as a man #26 Flag should carry this disclaimer: 'Canadian girls for Canadian guys ONLY!'

Canadian girls ain't at all easy!

I've told you readers that when I was a kid growing up in the South, we often sat on the side of the main road through town and sold apple cider, apple brandy, and boiled peanuts to the tourists travelling through West Virginia in route to Florida.

Making note of the license plates on the tourist cars was always a fun way to pass the time. Of all the northern tourists who passed through, the most exotic were the tourists from Canada. My friends and I were fascinated by the Canadians. We were fairly certain Canadians weren't like the Yankee carpet-baggers. I mean, Canadians spent lots of funny money, but at least they went home after their vacations unlike the damned Yankees.

But what really interested us guys most about the Canadians who bought our cider and peanuts, were the teenaged Canadian girls.

The rumor was that all Canadian girls put out, that they were easy.

Let me tell you, that rumor led me to the expenditure of many years of searching throughout Canada, and to the expenditure of at least one-trillion dollars, in a failed attempt to find out whether or not Canadian women were somehow different than your run-of-the-mill Yankee gal or basic Southern female.

Among the rumors about Canadian gals that circulated up the hollows of the Virginias and Carolinas where I grew up, was that, one way or another, their hooters were different, that they quite extraordinary with three nipples or something like that.

Also proposed, by guys who claimed to know all about the mysterious Canadian girls (there are always guys who claim to know the mysteries of life), was that there was something exotic about Canadian girl's yoo-hoos. I think their thingies were supposed to open sideways or something.

I can't remember the exact details; it's been a long time; but, back then, finding out seemed very important! It was something I absolutely needed learn, and to see for myself.

A quest had begun.

I finally conned two of my older sisters into moving to Detroit so I could come and visit them, and so I could secretly sneak into Ontario, over the international bridge, or through the tunnel under the Detroit River. And every day, for the two weeks of my summer vacation, I took the bus or tunnel across into Windsor in my quest to find out more about Canadian girls, their hooters, and their yoo-hoos.

This is what I found out: while Canadian girls may well be easy, if you're a Canadian guy; it is not easy to get to know Canadian girls when you're a hick from West Virginia, and have to ride a bus over the border from Detroit. They much prefer Canadian guys with cars. So, I was shit outta luck, because I was only 14 and couldn't drive anyway.

It is hard to impress Canadian girls.

As to how their tits or yoo-hoos operate, I'm still in the dark about those infobits. So, in an effort to discover the truth about Canadian girls, I finally hired a hooker outside of Toronto.

I paid her good US dollars, and told her to show me her tits and yoo-hoo, and she did. But I learned nothing for all the money I spent: she was from Cleveland!

Every day now, for two weeks, on an Canadian internet dating site, I've been attempting to lure any one of five different Canadian girls into a cam date.

Three accepted, but they aren't giving up any secrets about their tits, much less their yoo-hoos.

I think it is a fucking Canadian State Secret, kind of like how Red Green got rid of Harold.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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