Oowatanite, Myles, Oowatanite.

 

In the realm of rock and roll, where the anthems of an era echo through time, we bid farewell to a true maestro of the strings, Myles Goodwyen of April Wine. With a heart heavy with both nostalgia and respect, we reflect on the legacy of a musician whose notes forged a bridge between generations.

Myles, the virtuoso behind the soul-stirring chords of "Oowatanite," has left us, but his music remains etched in the fabric of our memories. His fingers danced across the frets like poetry, creating a sonic landscape that defined an era of rock. When the riff of "Oowatanite" would erupt from the speakers, it wasn't just a song; it was an anthem that echoed the spirit of a time when rebellion and freedom were in the very air we breathed.

His guitar wasn't merely an instrument; it was a conduit for emotions that transcended the boundaries of language. It spoke to the dreamers, the rebels, and the seekers of a rhythm that resonated with the pulse of life. Myles Goodwyen didn't just play the guitar; he painted with sound, and his masterpiece was etched into the hearts of those who listened.

In the spotlight, Myles was a maestro, but offstage, he was a gentle soul whose humility mirrored the authenticity of his music. He wasn't just a rockstar; he was a storyteller, a troubadour whose tales were told through the strings of his guitar. The resonance of his artistry created a bridge between the artist and the audience, a connection that remains unbroken even as we mourn his departure.

As we say our goodbyes, let us not mourn the silence of Myles's guitar but celebrate the symphony of life he gifted us. Each strum, each chord, and every electrifying note was a testament to the enduring power of music to capture the essence of our shared human experience.

Oowatanite, Myles, Oowatanite. Your music lives on, an eternal refrain that echoes in the hearts of those who were touched by the magic of your fingers on those strings. May you find eternal peace in the cosmic symphony, and may your legacy continue to inspire generations to come.

Deep Thoughts from Jack Hanley Gorf Style

 Just in case it happens again and I forget to comment.

How to support Terrorism with GOC support.

 In the bustling streets of Canadian cities, a new fashion trend has taken root, and it's none other than the Keffiyeh craze! Originally a traditional Middle Eastern garment, the Keffiyeh has found its way into the hearts and wardrobes of young fashionistas across the vast landscapes of Canada.

This versatile piece of fabric, known for its distinctive checkered pattern and cultural significance, has undergone a stylish transformation in the hands of Canadian trendsetters. Wrapped around shoulders, necks, or even creatively fashioned into headscarves, the Keffiyeh has become a symbol of solidarity and a bold fashion statement.

From the trendy boutiques of Toronto to the cool streets of Vancouver, girls are embracing the Keffiyeh with enthusiasm. The fusion of cultural appreciation and contemporary style has birthed a unique Canadian take on this ancient accessory. It's not just a piece of clothing; it's a statement that resonates with diversity and inclusivity.

As the maple leaves fall, signaling the arrival of autumn, the Keffiyeh adds a touch of warmth and flair to wardrobes across the nation. So, whether strolling through the vibrant markets of Montreal or enjoying the coastal breeze in Halifax, Canadian girls are proudly donning the Keffiyeh, turning tradition into a trend that unites cultures and showcases Canada's vibrant, inclusive spirit. 😍🍁 #KeffiyehCraze #CanadianFashionista

Get your Kicks out on Route 66

 

The Prime Minister that Saved Christmas

 

Once upon a snowy Canadian night, Justin Trudeau, adorned in a stylish yet slightly questionable holiday sweater, sipped maple syrup-infused hot cocoa by the fireplace. As he pondered the festivities, his trusty canine companion, Orange, wagged his tail with festive fervor.

Suddenly, they received an urgent call from the North Pole. Santa's sleigh had broken down, and Christmas was in peril! Trudeau, fueled by the spirit of diplomacy, knew he had to act. Donning his fanciest earmuffs, he and Orange embarked on a quest to save Christmas.

In their magical journey, they encountered moose-drawn sleds, apologetic snowmen, and even a group of politeness-imbued elves. Trudeau and Orange navigated the snowy landscapes, their mission clear: revive the holiday spirit.

Upon reaching the stranded Santa, Trudeau held a summit with the elves to fix the sleigh. Orange, being the doggo diplomat, mediated a dispute between a reindeer and a particularly stubborn snow hare.

With Christmas saved and diplomatic relations at an all-time high, Trudeau decided to commission a report addressing potential concerns about holiday traditions. The report, written in both official languages and accompanied by apologetic footnotes, stated that while Christmas was not inherently racist, it should be celebrated with cultural sensitivity.

The world rejoiced as Trudeau, Orange, and the newly united North Pole threw an epic multicultural holiday bash. Santa led the way with a diverse team of reindeer, and Orange became the honorary diplomat-in-chief.

And so, a tale of snowy diplomacy, festive rescue missions, and the quest for inclusivity became a cherished holiday legend in the Great White North. Trudeau and Orange, the dynamic duo, continued to spread joy, maple-flavored treats, and well-intentioned policies throughout the land. 🍁🎄🐾
#TrudeauSavesChristmas #OrangeTheDiplomat

Witch Queen - Bitch

 

Time Travel by Goats

 

Once upon a time in the wild world of Diagolon, there was a time-traveling goat named Gruff McGruff. Gruff wasn't your ordinary goat; he was the leader of the infamous "Horned Brotherhood," a group of rebel goats with a penchant for mischief, protesting and a serious case of wanderlust.

Gruff's journey began in a cave somewhere in the prehistoric past. Legend has it he was born with a beer bottle in one hoof and a roadmap to the future in the other. From day one, Gruff knew he was destined for greatness—or at least a darn good time.

Equipped with dark sunglasses that shielded his eyes from the blinding radiance of the future (which, oddly enough, was always bright, even at night), Gruff rode his trusty time-traveling truck across the epochs. His vehicle, affectionately named the "Chrono Cruiser," was fueled by a mixture of vintage beers and exotic herbs that Gruff may or may not have been addicted to.

One day, in the midst of a wild ride through the roaring '20s, Gruff stumbled upon a secret society of time-traveling llamas. They were having a Blue llama party, but Gruff, being a goat of discerning taste, preferred to go solo, but salutes them every day 4:20 twice some days.

As the undisputed leader of Diagolon, Gruff's days were filled with epic adventures, questionable decisions, and an impressive collection of empty beer bottles. His big arms weren't just for show; they were the result of a rigorous workout routine involving lifting kegs and chugging beers, and inflating portable castles to occupy cities far and wide.

Despite his laid-back demeanor and penchant for partying, Gruff always had an uncanny ability to steer the Horned Brotherhood away from trouble—or at least postpone it until tomorrow. Except that one time when in Canada of all  places, someone said they had sighted him. After all, when you're a time-traveling goat with a love for the absurd, every day is an adventure, and the future is as bright as the glow from a neon sign in the Prohibition era. Cheers to Gruff McGruff, the beer-chugging, shade-wearing, time-traveling legend of Diagolon! 🐐🍺🕶️ #GruffChronicles

The Meanings according to Gorf

 

**Bungied (verb):**

**Definition:**

To engage in the act of repeatedly postponing or altering the promised delivery date of a highly anticipated or pre-paid item, service, or experience. This term originated from the whimsical world of Gorf, where enchanted transactions sometimes involve unexpected twists and turns.

**Usage:**

The devoted fans of the mystical Gorfian game, "Quest for the Crystal Riffs," found themselves unintentionally Bungied when the release date of the highly awaited expansion pack was consistently pushed back, leaving them in a state of suspense and anticipation.

**Example:**

"After eagerly pre-ordering the limited edition holographic concert tickets, Jake felt he had been Bungied when the event organizers continually shifted the show dates without providing a concrete explanation."

**Synonyms:**

1. String-along

2. Elude-date

3. Delay-dance

**Antonyms:**

1. Punctualize

2. Prompt-deliver

3. Time-assure

Destiny’s 2 Season of the Witch Ends Today,

Insert Seasonal Guest Buddy

Don't Go Out Sad 190

Fraggloc

Yk151

Senior Ashton

Hunter Puffy Ashton

Darkstar Mike RIP 2021

KO2Fast4U

Tom R

My Member of Parliament is Outstanding

Well in a field by himself. but outstanding netherless.

Oh, Member of Parliament , you're a beacon of brilliance,

Liberal Puppet SP Mark Gerrettson

Your wisdom, a guiding star in our political resilience.

Your eloquence, a symphony of sheer intellect,

Each word you utter, a gem, we must not forget.

With every speech, you enlighten our simple minds,

A maestro of governance, in your brilliance, one finds.

Your decisions, a dance of strategic finesse,

Oh, how fortunate we are to witness your political prowess.

Your promises, like unicorns, so rare and enchanting,

In the realm of accountability, you're truly outstanding.

Oh, representative supreme, your arrogance, a crown,

In the kingdom of self-importance, you'll never let us down.

Puppet 

Liberal Puppet SP Mark Gerrettson

Your constituents, mere mortals, stand in awe,

As you grace us with your presence, flawless and raw.

Oh, how we cherish the crumbs of your attention,

A gift, a privilege, beyond our comprehension.

So here's to you, dear representative divine,

In your grandeur, let our adulation shine.

May your reign be eternal, your speeches never-ending,

For in your presence, our minds are forever bending.

Peace in the Middle East - is the Local Economy

 

Once more, we are urging for a ceasefire—not merely a temporary pause. We embark on this plea cognizant of the fact that our fathers, and potentially we ourselves, have committed to multiple United Nations missions. Some return with memories that resonate positively, while others carry burdens that time won't erase. Some, tragically, give their all.

In undertaking these missions, we recognize that the frequency and intensity may surpass that of our fathers. This time, we have brought our sisters into the fold, only to return not only to an ungrateful nation but also to an uncontrollable, escalating specter, making generational trauma appear feeble in the realm of medical understanding.

We embark on these endeavors fully aware that our own children have, and some already continue to, engage in multiple peacekeeping missions. Our descendants find themselves cleaning up the mistakes of Great-Granddaddy, and yet, no one has declared, "Enough is enough." If Gaza refuses to acknowledge that terrorism and its tactics are a stain on the civilized world, why should we accept that peace is a tangible reality?