SchadenFord

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Man, I wish I could take credit for the term and the concept, but honour dictates that it go to commenter Christine over here. The article itself is none too f—king shabby either. Almost makes me want to break my own house rule.

SchadenFord: the pleasurable feeling of gloating vindication when the buffoonish Mayor of Toronto f—ks up yet again; and the gleeful anticipation of same, because the latter is f—king inevitable. It’s like the sun rising, like tick following tock. You know it has to happen. And you find yourself, in spite of your better nature, looking forward to it.

Thank you, Toronto. All we’ve got here in Ottawa is Jim Watson, a competent manager with the personality of a bowl of shredded wheat. I’m envious—in a SchadenFordian kind of way.

Now, thanks to Hizzoner turning tail and running away from Marg Delahunty, Canadians have our very own 911 trooferism. Right-wing bloggers weep for him. SunTV moans piteously about his poor little invisible child and the big bad CBC. Never mind the actual CBC tape of the infamous ambush in the clear morning light: it was dark, dammit, and his daughter was wearing her Harry Potter cloak of concealment.

No wonder he ran inside and called 911. Twice, mind you, shaking like a bowlful of jelly. “I’m being attacked! They’ve got cameras!”

Never mind what the 911 operators say—and one has filed a formal grievance—no way he called them f—king bitches, although he concedes he might have used the f-word.

Might have? Aw, come on. This is Mayor Rob F—king Ford! He and the ol’ f-bomb are one. The word is probably on his birth certificate, which, by the way, we haven’t seen.

I know, I know, it’s not funny. Why am I laughing? He’s doing his level best, with furious zeal and determination, to drive his city into the ground and destroy its international reputation. And he has a cabal of enablers to give force and effect to his every brainless whim. Powerful staffers. Crazed city councillors, including his own brother. The devil-worshippers at the Toronto Sun.

Compared to this crimson tub of vulgar, stupid ineptitude, Mel Lastman and even Ottawa’s clownish ex-mayor Larry O’Brien look like statesmen. How in the name of whatever gods that be could anyone have voted for this moron?

But vote for him they did, in droves. And Ford Nation, these days more like an Invisible Empire, holds sway for three more years.

Three more years. Suck it up, Toronto. Hee hee!