A Hoot for the Holidays or Strange Days at the Inn

THE WORLD THIS WEEK

This week I was asked by a spry senior woman whether I was the fella who lived in the basement.
To this I considered and mused the possible reply "Which basement is that Ma'am. Are you re-
ferring to the Assoholics homemade gas chamber located just down the road from the RCMP
training facility in Ottawa, where a fire would have been too suspicious after the event of October/1999 on Gilmore St., but an accidental yet fatal dose of carbon monoxide from a faulty
furnace might well have disposed of me neatly.

Or perhaps you are referring to the potential basement funeral pyre in Calgary, where bars on
all the windows and a furnace located underneath the only set of stairs out ensured there was
no escape from the fiery hell of an accidental furnace malfunction.

You see Ma'am, my opponents have sought my destruction for so long now I sometimes get
confused as to which murderous conspiratorial plot to which you might be referring.

PICTURES AT 6 & ll.

HAVE A NICE DAY.