Back in 1973, the westbound 401 was bumper to bumper Quebec license plates. Mount Royal dwellers, fearing for their non pure-laine sweaters, were escaping PQ tyranny. It was a nightmare, Pumpkins.
Frightened families packed up their blond kids, their white bread making machines, and made a run for Toronto and Calgary. Many were forced to open up cafes just to get a real cup of coffee.
If only travel agents had been there to help. Don’t miss the opportunity this time, Pumpkins! Set up your “Mass Migration Travel Centre & Map Emporium – English & Cantonese spoken,” now! Don’t wait. Pauline Marois plans on closing all exit routes and forcing non-Francophones to smoke cigarettes while watching René Lévesque speeches.
Some Anglos are already cracking. Running around in balaclavas (who would want to wear sticky pastry?) and housecoats. Shouldn't that have tipped off security at the door? So while we're in the exodus business, Pumpkins, let's evacuate all the gun toting nut jobs to a small uninhabited island.
And Charest, chéri, is that a big “L” on your forehead or are you squinting from the spotlight being flipped off? Never mind, “Jean, Jean, You’re Young & Alive!” Who calls their son Jean?
