I'd appreciate if readers using Internet Explorer would email me about anything that doesn't appear to be working correctly on this site. I designed it using Firefox and tested it with Safari and Lynx, but I don't have access to a copy of IE. In this day and age, shouldn't the browsers agree on what an HTML tag means? Oh, but they don't.

It's too bad about the Carolina team winning the Stanley Cup. The Canadians in my office really had their hopes up. Neither of them are from Edmonton, but it's kind of a national concern for Canadians. (It's like Jesus said about taxes. "Render unto God what is God's. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's." Well, shit, render unto the Canadians the Stanley Cup.) I'm the only one with an internet connection, so I took it upon myself to provide them with updates. They asked if I wanted to split the difference between the Canadian and American versions and have a Thanksgiving dinner in early November. I made reference to my nuts in my reply. I am interested in alternately confirming and confounding stereotypes of imperialistic American behavior.

OMG SCARY MOVIE

Written and Directed by Marc Heiden Produced by Marc Heiden Cinematography by Marc Heiden Starring Marc Heiden and a giant crab

OMG ITS TOO SCARY MOVIE - FRENCH GUY
SHITS ALL OVER "PSYCHO" - ALFERD HITCHCOCKC
COULD USE SOME ROMANCE - HOLLYWOOD PRODUCER

I think I am establishing a reputation as an intense and uncompromising filmmaker.

BACK TO THE PART WHERE I AM RUDE TO CANADIANS

"If you want me to lend legitimacy to your little event, you'll hold it on the proper day," I said. "Canadian Thanksgiving. What are you guys even celebrating?"
"Same thing as you," said the Canadians. "The family gets together and we have a nice meal, lots of food, usually turkey or something."
"They brought us corn and then we gave them smallpox blankets," I said. "Get a vicious historical irony and then I'll take you seriously."
"Fine, then don't come," said the Canadians.
"Fine, then, I won't," I said.
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," they said.
"See you fuckers in the third week of November," I said.

This is all a bluff, of course. I can't cook and, if they've been paying attention, they know that. I have nothing to bring to this dinner except a general willingness to eat, and possibly bread, if I make it to the bakery before it closes. And smallpox blankets. Who has smallpox? Do I want to spend money on blankets? Will napkins do? I'm going to sleep now, and when I awake, I hope to see advice from Lewis Cass in the comments section for this post.

UPDATE: Thanksgiving is the fourth week of November. Damn it. This isn't the first time I've made that mistake. Did the Canadians interpret it as a willingness to compromise? To be on the safe side, I had better desecrate a maple leaf at work as soon as possible.