23 July 2010

Front and centre: A man and his son were removed from a flight for watching 9/11 footage on an iPod moments before their plane took off. I guess it wasn't an amazing idea? And I assume that "Call it ... SCARE CANADA" was something the mischievous pilot said over the plane's PA system to calm frightened passengers.

Top: There has been a lot of talk about Mike Weir lately. Is he washed up? Is he not washed up? Has he washed himself thoroughly, with soap and water? Who will wash Mike Weir? Dinner is ready to be served and Mike Weir is positively filthy from a long day's golfing.

Also: With the $50 million lottery jackpot, we could wash Mike Weir so beautifully he won't live to talk about it.

Bottom: Right now, if you buy a thing, you'll pay the same price as a thing salesman!

Summary: An interesting fact: Scare Canada is a real airline unaffiliated with Air Canada that offers bone-chilling flights to over thirty horrifying destinations sixty times a day. Mostly in Alberta. Calgary, to be specific.

*** (out of 5)

22 July 2010

Front and centre:

Left: A Candian soldier who killed a wounded Taliban soldier

Bottom:

Summary:

(out of 5)

21 July 2010

Front and centre: Yesterday's cover explored the darker side of toilets, but today we have the story of Toffee, a blind and abandoned beagle who's been adopted by a couple from Bradford. Very nice; everyone loves dogs. Yet the conspiracy theorist in me can't help thinking that Toffee's adorable story is simply a smokescreen meant to distract us from the horrors of Timmins.

Top: More bad news from Afghanistan. Also: lottery tickets.

Bottom: There's an exciting sale on swimming pools right now. I hope our friend from Timmins doesn't find out. He's always putting food in kooky places and making me furious!

Summary: If a blind, homeless human had been found on the street, the Sun would have demanded the death penalty.

** (out of 5)

20 July 2010

Front and centre: In today's news, a grown man holds his nose because of a poo smell in the run-down Kew Beach public washroom. Judging by the man's over-the-top clowning, the poo smell must be apocalyptic—I'm thinking Level 4 Burrito, Family Edition? The Sun actually dispatched a professional photographer to Kew Beach to take pictures of sad toilets (hey, even Annie Leibovitz had to start somewhere). Call me a septic skeptic, but I think our friend on the cover is trying to pass the buck. As the Bible says, "Whoever smelt it dealt it on Kew Beach."

Astonishingly, this is only one of two toilet-related stories in today's Sun.

Top: Ontario's Environment Minister John Gerretsen is going to scrap the controversial eco-fee program that was making everyone poo their pants. Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is $50 million with $26 million in Maxmillions. With that kind of money, we could start a dedicated toilet-themed newspaper that focuses on the toilet stories you won't hear about in the Liberal media.

Bottom: You wanna see a pristine toilet? Do yourself a favour and head for the washrooms at the Arizona Bar & Grill. It's like shitting on a princess.

Summary: Aside from the poo smell, I also smell something else: a Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting!

**** (out of 5)

BONUS:

Today's Sun Reader Comment of the Day prize goes to someone named Welcome to the Socialist Paradise of Torontograd:

"If only the poor people would rise up and defeat their masters, we would have clean washrooms."

Gandhi couldn't have said it better himself.

19 July 2010

Front and centre: The fluid is positively flying today as Honda Indy winner Will Power (left) and third-placer Ryan Hunter-Reay jizzblast champagne onto each others' bodies in the spirit of sportsmanship. Power is clearly enjoying the ejaculatory sensation, while Hunter-Reay seems alarmed, as if he's the victim of an unplanned orgasm. (He just needs a bit of practice, is all.)

Also: A voyeuristic lottery winner takes in all the action from his terrible perch in the top-right corner of the page. Lock him up and throw away the thing!

Beneath: Cool off with Summer Chill? How dare you tell me how to live my life. I'm going to cool down the way I always have: by sticking my feet in a tub of gelato.

Summary: Today's cover is the first in a proposed series of Sun covers featuring grown men splashing, squirting and drizzling on each other.

*** (out of 5)

16 July 2010

Front and centre: It's been a while since the Sun put a sex offender on the cover, and I was beginning to fear we'd never have the chance to gaze safely into a Violent Pervert's eyes again. My fears were unfounded! Today's V.P. is the guy accused of assaulting a woman in a Scarborough cemetery earlier this week. He looks like Steve Nash after a year-long crystal meth binge, but I doubt he has any skills on the court! Have you seen Steve Nash in action, my friend? He doesn't waste his time skulking around cemeteries with an erection—he practices basketball, soft as a marshmallow. Anyway . . . it seems that the V.P. told his "pal" that he got up to no good in the cemetery. Oh, boys and their secrets!

Atop the pervert: The Honda Indy (a.k.a. The Roar by the Shore) is here until Sunday—no perverts allowed! Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is still $50 million. Is it fair to say that rich people are dollar perverts?

Beneath the pervert: You say I can buy a truck at the employee rate? How dare you, sir. As if I would work for your ridiculous car company. Don't you know I have a degree in Casual Science?

Summary: I don't know why there are black lines running down the centre of the cover.

*** (out of 5)

15 July 2010

Front and centre: At first glance I thought today's cover was about two old friends preparing to dismember a corpse (why is the hairy friend carrying a saw?). Then I thought it might be about a marijuana bust. Wrong and wrong. Our two friends in special suits are literally doing some weeding. Apparently, Toronto is under siege by something called giant hogweed, and if you touch its sap you can get burned, go blind or turn into a Fiberal. And, yes, the WEED WHACKERS article contains several phenomenal masturbation puns.

Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is $50 million.

Left of the men: Gentlemen, turn on the cars now! The Honda Indy is coming to town.

Bellow:

SCANDINAVIAN ICE GODDESS: At last we find ourselves alone.
FAKE HARRY POTTER: Ha ha. I'm not supposed to . . . spend time with you.
SCANDINAVIAN ICE GODDESS: Remove my sunglasses, boy.
FAKE HARRY POTTER: Umm . . . .
SCANDINAVIAN ICE GODDESS: DO IT.

Fake Harry Potter removes her sunglasses.

FAKE HARRY POTTER: Ach! That's disgusting. You've got . . . guy eyes!
SCANDINAVIAN ICE GODDESS: And you have the soul of a little girl.

Summary: I'm no Garden King, but I'm 99% sure that Hairy Friend isn't wearing his face mask correctly. He looks like a prototype for a muppet that Jim Henson never loved!

** (out of 5)

13 July 2010

Front and centre: Former Leafs captain Rob Ramage is going to jail for four years. So, what did he do that was so wrong? He's guilty of the "crime" of partying too hard in his car. He partied so hard in his car that his friend passed away and everyone got angry at him. Pathetic. This is just another sad example of Toronto's fun-hating, "live to work" culture.

Top: You're telling me I can meet my 2010 Toronto Argonauts today? But, I'm not ready! I haven't a thing to wear and the ice box is empty. Quick—go get some Italian pizza pies while I put on my football skirts! Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is at $50 million, which is the same amount most CFL players make each year.

Bottom: Things around the Arizona Bar & Grill have been awful quiet ever since the World Cup ended. Anyone mind if I busk? To break the silence? Fine, I get it. But next time you need to hear a bunch of Sublime covers don't come running to me, fuckfaces.

Summary: Rob Ramage used to be imprisoned by his moustache. Now he's imprisoned by a prison.

* (out of 5)

12 July 2010

Front and centre: Hundreds of Spanish noblemen (and their charming wives) expressed their joy over Spain's World Cup victory yesterday by shutting down College Street to perform a traditional Spanish dance atop a moving streetcar. Spanish legend says that whoever survives the long, arduous trip to the fabled Main Street Station is appointed Duke of Seville by His Majesty the King. This is a very powerful post, for whoever controls Seville's port controls Seville!

Amazingly, the police didn't fire tear gas at the crowd or smash anyone's faces with truncheons, signalling an alarming sea change in Toronto policing tactics.

On top: Angelina Jolie has celebrated Spain's World Cup win by acting in a new movie about salt. Also: a tiny man has won a $1 million lottery jackpot. Do they even make tuxedos that small?

Below: Broadening your horizons by eating Thai food at Country Style is like trying to learn a new language by watching foreign pornography: it's not satisfying and it might give you diarrhea all over my couch.

Summary: I'm disappointed that the Sun didn't use a better play on words for the headline here. Surely SPAIN REIGNS MAINLY IN THE GAME or CAFE CON CUCKOO! or WE ARE THE CHAMPIONTH! would have been more dynamic?

** (out of 5)

9 July 2010

Front and centre: Why is a middle-aged drag queen fondling his crotch on the front of my newspaper? Is he mentally ill or under the influence of beer? No. The he is actually a she, and she's touching herself because Toronto is hosting a Cougar Convention this weekend at Tattoo Rock Parlour. One lucky woman will be crowned Ms. Cougar Canada, win a trip to a Jamaican spa and a ticket aboard something called the International Cougar Cruise to the Bahamas. Very fun. It'll be just like a regular beauty pageant, except all the contestants' parents are dead.

On Top of This Woman: The Lotto Max jackpot is $43 million. If I win, I will buy myself the Ms. Cougar Canada crown, stage a coup and rule the nation as a brutal, gender-bending dictator.

Below This Woman: You know, a cougar's a lot like a yellow car: they're both shiny, they both need gas, and they both like having casual sex with younger men.

Summary: This weekend Toronto will be Cougar Town, which is a nice upgrade from our usual nickname, Scat Freak City.

**** (out of 5)

8 July 2010

Front and centre: Chris Bosh is packing up his basketball, shorts and jersey and moving to Miami to play for the Heat. Also: it's going to be Spain and the Netherlands in Sunday's World Cup final.

Top: Jimmy Carter has been picked as Canada's next Governor General, replacing Michaelle Jean and her wanker husband. Also:

Bottom:

WOMAN IN SUNGLASSES: Would you like to gaze into my pupils, young boy?

FAKE HARRY POTTER: Umm, I really shouldn't. I 'm supposed to meet some friends and hang out near a tree we love.

WOMAN IN SUNGLASSES: Gaze into my pupils and fuck your friends.

FAKE HARRY POTTER: Huh?

WOMAN IN SUNGLASSES: I'm taking my glasses off now.

FAKE HARRY POTTER: Wow. You've got really weird eyes.

WOMAN IN SUNGLASSES: I know. With my eyes and your hands we could be famous!

FAKE HARRY POTTER:

Summary:

(out of 5)

7 July 2010

Front and centre: Hooray! WANKER! WANKER! right beneath the Queen! What's happening here? Have Irish rebels seized control of the Toronto Sun and insulted the British Monarchy? Sadly, no. The wanker in question is not Her Majesty The Queen, but Jean-Daniel Lafond, the Governor General's "hubby." Lafond (a French Canadian Larry David lookalike) has caused a stir because he didn't want the Queen staying at Rideau Hall while she was in Ottawa last week. I sympathize with Lafond's reluctance to let the Queen sleep in his house: Ma'am doesn't do the dishes, she gives you bedbugs and she leaves a revolting trail of used condoms and lube spills around the house, as if she were Billy in a hellish Family Circus "dotted-line" comic strip. Who needs the headache? In the end, the Queen stayed at Rideau Hall anyway. The building is currently being fumigated and the floor is being replaced.

NOTE: Today's WANKER! story is an exclusive, as the banner in the upper right-hand corner makes clear. No other newspaper will be covering this WANKER! story today.

To the left of WANKER!: A Dutch prostitute wields a vuvuzela to celebrate the Netherlands' 3-2 victory over Uruguay yesterday. Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is still $43 million. With money like that, you could take all the hookers in Holland on a date.

Beneath WANKER!: An ad for swimming pools. Speaking of swimming pools, you don't want to know what the Governor General and her husband found floating in their pool after the Queen used it. Propriety forbids me from going into too much detail, but I can at least confirm it was in the turd family....

Summary: This cover is so good you could eat off of it.

******* (out of 5)

8 July 2010

Front and centre: A disappointed businessman with a moustache stares through a smashed window in the wake of the G20 summit. The summit was a disaster for local businesses because—believe it or not—the army of riot police guarding the downtown core made everyone afraid to buy dinner and shoes. Personally, I chose to wear plastic bags on my feet rather than face their wrath. Does that make me weird? I'm surprised the Sun didn't use a picture of a buxom woman standing on a burning ATM to make a humorous visual pun on the word "BU$T."

Top: Former Detroit Redwinger Bob Probert has died. He also appears to be laughing at the disappointed businessman below. Did Probert break the window? It's not for me to say, but he was known as a tough guy.... Also: the Lotto Max jackpot is $43 million. It's so hot outside that I don't even care about money anymore.

Bottom: Today, when you go to the Arizona Bar & Grill to watch the World Cup game, you may notice a man standing just beyond the boundaries of the patio, his body painted in the glorious colours of the flag of Uruguay. That man is me. And he's not allowed to sit on the patio because the "management" thinks he's "nude."

Summary: I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's always nice to see a moustache on the front of your newspaper.

** (out of 5)

5 July 2010

Front and centre: The Queen of Scotland was in town over the weekend to go to church and watch a horse race with some old college buddies. Ma'am also found time to attend several Pride events, sparking more "is she or isn't she?" rumours. My sources tell me that Thin Lizzy was spotted stumbling around the free Cyndi Lauper concert on Saturday (bombed out of her mind on cider), before making a scandalous visit to the Beef Ball and buying a round of double-ended rubber fists for anyone lucky enough to be at the Priape when she burst through its hallowed doors. Call me old fashioned, but I love the Queen of Scotland!

On Top Of Her Majesty The Queen: For some reason, the Sun has framed this year's Gay Pride parade as a dress rehearsal for a Leafs Stanley Cup victory parade. Ridiculous. A genuine Leafs victory parade would feature far more sodomy.

Beneath Her Majesty The Queen: Eating a Thai chicken wrap at Country Style is just like visiting Thailand . . . if Thailand were full of fat white people on mobility scooters.

Summary: I am pleased to present a random sampling of Sun readers' comments on the topic of Gay Pride. (Note: I take no responsibility for the parade of spelling and grammatical atrocities you are about to witness.) Here we go:

"Is buggery not still a crime?"

"Our law enforcement officers were forced to endue and join this parade, dedicated to pagan ritual ,body worship, sexual depravity,ignorance,diabolical servitude, and abandonment of self worth. I have grave concerns about the permissiveness our city ,provincial, and federal governments have permitted over these past 50 years. Gratuitous living is not healthy."

"We celebrate buggery but can't muster the same effort to celebrate our contry. The priorities in Toronto have gone so far astray that they can't possibly be taken seriously any longer."

"What's worse are some people brought children to this event to see a bunch of people walking down the street naked. To me, that's a form of child abuse. They should be charged. The children will be scarred for life."

"Makes you really want to visit the Toronto cesspool. Maybe the Management of the Sky Dome or Rogers center (whatever you call it these days) could host a gay ball game. Looks like there is lots of degenerates in the city that would go watch it. Just think of the money they could make and utilize an otherwise empty stadium. The umpires would have to be the BUTCHES , Bats could be in the shape of you know anything these fags want to stick in their openings. Come on Toronto lets come up with some ideas for a gay baseball game."

Tremendous!

* (out of 5)