Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Canada Deprives Me of Debauchery

When I moved to Canada, I was aware that there were going to be some...changes.  I would have to learn to appreciate lumberjacks and moose.  I would have to start caring about hockey.  I would have to become...friendly.  I would live in a land of perpetual snow and ice, where I would chip out a single blade of withered grass from the permafrost when I wanted to do yardwork.  Basically, I thought moving to Canada would be close to my personal idea of Hell.  All that was missing was a job in retail.

For some reason, it wasn't like this at all.

What I didn't expect was that I was going to miss some things that I took for granted in the States.  Not the clashes over religion and birth control and that kind of bullshit.  I get all that medicine stuff for free up here.  It's actually kind of petty and stupid what I miss.  Okay, actually it's Husband who told me that it was stupid and petty what I miss, but what does he know?!  He's still got his supply of Tim Tam and he can't tell me he doesn't!

I love to cook, and this whole metric measuring system just screws with me.  I miss things being in ounces and cups and all that stuff.  I miss not having to convert every single recipe that I find online so that I know what to buy in the grocery store.  I find myself getting frustrated and just buying Hamburger Helper, because I know by sight what one pound of hamburger looks like.  None of this grams bullshit for me.  Hell no.

See?  It even uses an evil font!

What I really miss are the gut-destroying, diet-smashing, artery clogging messes that are available only in America, because let's face it, unless something is trying to get affordable birth control or fair treatment in a prison, we don't give a fuck how bad it is for us.  For those of you disagree, I put before you the Double Down from KFC, Hardees, Four Loko and Easy Cheez.  Because none of these things are available in Canada.  They're ILLEGAL HERE.

All of the good stuff that I hoped one day to be able to triumph over by holding my nose high and saying "I'm better than this, because I don't eat it anymore." is all gone.  I suppose I can still go to McDonalds and order five Big Macs if I really want to do something that bad for me, but it's not the same.  It's not the same as conquoring your personal addiction to Double Stuf Chocolate Creme Oreos because they're not available here!

I hate you Canada.  I hate your desire to make me skinny, and your warning labels on cigarettes that take up the whole package and would be really annoying if I smoked.  I hate your lack of Cherry Pepsi and your inability to provide me with hookers riddled with disease.  ...Okay, maybe not that last one.

But I still hate you for not having liquor inside grocery stores, forcing me to make a second stop and knowing that I'm not going to friggin' do that.  I'm too lazy to even kick the cat off me when she's biting my feet, what the hell makes you think I'm going to drive in my warm, gassed-up vehicle with it's comfortable bucket seats the additional twenty yards to the liquor store right next to the grocery store?!

I make a valid point here.

So shape up Canada, or I'm going to start going to some other country for my hedonistic needs.

No comments:

Post a Comment