Well, I feel a bit sheepish now. I've fallen victim to the old "when you assume, you make an 'ass' of 'u' and 'me'" cliche. I gave the American people the benefit of the doubt, assuming they'd make the right choice in the end, and they responded with a loud "No, a lot of us really are as gullible/misinformed/dumb as you feared we were."

51% of the American people decided that George W Bush would stay another four years in the seat of power. The man who has trouble forming coherent sentences. The man who started an invasion of Afghanistan in response to 9/11, and then really didn't have the motivation to finish it. The man whose family has more responsibilities to the Saudi Royal Family than to the American people he is supposed to serve. The man who called for the invasion of Iraq for falsified and unjust reasons. The man who decided to use a legal loophole to skirt the Geneva convention with respect to the treatment of POWs. The man who repeats and repeats his mantras of fear and terrorism, when his policies are largely the catalyst for those terrors. The man who is daily trading the lives of his soldiers - who serve under the pretext that they are sent in the name of freedom and that their lives will only be put on the line when it is a must for the safety of their country and of their people - so that he can finish what his father started and get more oil pumping through his bank accounts.

He reminds me of the olden-day fire departments, where the department itself would start a fire and then come rushing in with sirens blaring, yelling "We'll save you!!" Of course, many fire fighters just trying to do their jobs perished in their duty, but in the opinion of the ones collecting the fees, it's worth their sacrifice; it's business.

I guess I was naive. I honestly thought the people would see through the thinly veiled rhetoric, half-truths, non-truths, and catch phrases, and see what was going on. I was wrong.

To the 49% or so that didn't vote for Bush, I am sorry for the state of affairs in which you find yourselves; you have my sympathy. To the millions that did not bother to vote, shame on you. Look what has become. Even if you refrained from voting because it would have been a vote for the lesser of two evils, all the more shame; now the most evil has won.

With the uncertainties of today's world, one never knows when a terrorist strike may hit. So, I've decided to protect myself. Now, I can be ready for any sort of terrorist action, and also happen to be safe from any randomly flying pucks.

In Canada, the latter seems much more likely, so it was a good idea to go for the multi-purpose solution. Now I can sleep well knowing I'm safe and sound, and free to dream of Stanley Cup aspirations and of poking Gary Bettman and Bob Goodenow with a pitchfork.

AAAAARRRRRGGGGGOOOOOSSSSS!!!!!

The Toronto Argonauts have won their 15th Grey Cup Championship, taking the 92nd edition of the contest with a 27-19 decision over the BC Lions.

It was a wonderful hard-earned victory by an underdog team that next to no one had picked to win, with a 41-year-old grandfather playing quarterback, and the legendary Mike Pinball Clemons coaching at the helm. Clemons adds his first Grey Cup ring as a coach to his collection of three he won as an Argonaut receiver, proving that sometimes nice guys don't finish last.

I will surely be attending the Grey Cup parade later this week, singing "I'm an Argo, I'm an Argo, I'm an Argo from T.O! And I'd rather be an Argo than a bloody Eskimo!"

Those Grey skies are clearing to a beautiful shade of double blue.

I had my first goaltender-specific hockey lesson the other day. I discovered muscles I never knew I had, and they all screamed "WHY HAVE YOU NEGLECTED US YOUR WHOLE LIFE?!?!?!". I could not believe how exhausing it was. However, it feels good to do what I've always wanted to do, and it can only get better.

This also meant that my new pads got their first real use, and they have received their first puck scuff mark. It's like a battle scar; they've faced the oncoming enemy, stood their ground, and will forever hold the mark of their sacrifice.

In honour of their baptism into the hockey faith, I hereby christen them "Blocky" and "Stacky".

Along with the fact that I'm finally playing the game I've always wanted to play, there's another great reward to taking up ice hockey: I've never been more physically fit. Since I started playing sports three nights per week less than three months ago, I've lost about 10 pounds, toned a bit of muscle - including ones I never knew I had - and my endurance has risen to new heights. With games now four nights per week, it can only get better. If I can keep this up and still sustain my box-a-week Oreo addiction, I'll be a very happy man.

Also, due to the particular strain goaltenders put on their leg muscles, my legs have bulked up so they look like Greek temple pillars. Yes, ladies, you read that correctly: Greek temple pillars. Please, please, one at a time... take a number... no, how you doin'?....