Go Canucks

This 2011 post was accidentally erased in my last purge so it does not count as a new entry. With the NHL finals coming here, I thought my readers would like to know a few details about Vancouver. I only know about surviving here, and it is a very nice place to survive, but I have consulted a brochure to fill you in on what living is like here. The brochure starts with a brief history. I was surprised to learn that this town's original name was not Vancouver but Brown Acre. Apparently Queen Victoria wanted a home for convalescent lumberjacks, no bigger than an acre, that could double as a restroom for British sailors on their way to Australia with boatloads of convicts. But the landscape was still not nearly brown enough. It was far too green. That was when Lord Vancouver lent his own name to the town, to spare it being called the rather silly name of Green Acre, which, of course, would never catch on. As soon as her name changed, her boundaries expanded. The settlers kept going until they hit Surrey. Then they turned around and laid mines behind them all the way home. To go with our beautiful natural landscape, we have abundant wildlife, and the animals are all friendly. In fact, they'll do your housework for you if you know how to whistle properly while you work. Located on the West Coast, our docks receive massive shipping from Asia, as well as regular visits from the Loveboat. Tourism is a huge industry here. It generates billions. Every time a tourist buys a gram of Asian drugs on a Vancouver street, it counts as tourism revenues. The people here are the sweetest, gentlest, most tolerant people in the world - unless you litter. Then they become an angry mob, and if you're a tourist, you might have to swim for it to get back to your cruise ship in one piece. Vancouver tobacco is world famous. Judging from its appearance, it may have been developed by an Irishman. I can't make out the rest of what the brochure says. Food stains in the way. I think someone used it as a napkin. Still, I hope I've been helpful.
More Scripts	Songs	Statements
© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Forsaken Identity

It all turned out to be a misunderstanding. Ted wasn't the thief, after all. Each of the townspeople came by to shake his hand and wish him well. Fred, his upstairs neighbour, was the first. He shook Ted's hand and said, 'I hope there's no hard feelings, Ted. And I hope we can be friends.' 'Of course. Thanks.' ' - even though I told everyone that you get up in the middle of the night and draw pictures on your wall with your own excrement.' Allen, Ted's former work mate, stopped in. He said, 'I'm sorry, Ted. And I like you a lot.' 'Thanks, Allen.' '- even though I warned my sister to keep her daughter away from you.' And then the girl down the hall knocked on his door. She brought cookies and said, 'I think you're a good guy now Ted.' 'Thank you!' '- even though you're old.'
More Scripts	Songs	Statements
© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Nice Try

Last night, before I went to bed, in order to escape the memory of how I got so severely plagiarized, I picked up a very interesting book, Eugene Marais, The Soul of the Ape. In the introduction I read, '...In 1926, the year after he had published his definitive article on his original research and conclusions about the white ant, a world-famous author took half Marais's life-work and published it as his own. This plagiarizing may well have been a major factor in Marais's final collapse. Plagued for many years by ill health and an addiction to morphine, he took his own life in March 1936.'
More Scripts	Songs	Statements
© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Spitting Image

I'm going to try to hook up with a female vocalist soon, so I can add a little more vocal variety to my repertoire, and properly express my feminine side in song. You know a good tip for under eye care? Whale spit. But it's expensive. Fifty dollars for a little eyedroppers worth.
More Scripts	Songs	Statements
© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Waiting for Justice

I heard a story this morning about a man who is suing Doctor Who over a character he claims to have created thirty years ago, in his youth. It reminded of a certain someone who owes me money. I've been waiting for thirty-six years now. Are you listening, Christine? Christine MacNichol? I want my milk money. I want it with interest. You said you'd pay me back when you collected from your paper route. How long does it fucking take? Let me tell you, I could go for a nice, cool glass of milk right now.
More Scripts	Songs	Statements
© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Bread Winner

When the Lord was in the desert, doing without food for weeks on end, the devil tried to get him to turn the stones into bread by offering him a good paying job. Jesus answered, 'It is written that man should not live by bread alone but by every word of God.'
More Statements	Scripts	Songs
© 2011. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Late Bloomer

Today is Saint Patrick's day. Traditionally, Irish mums get their seventeenth born child drunk on this day. If they've spent all their booze money on lottery tickets, they just use their breast milk, which tastes a lot like Guinness. (I still remember its flavour from my fourteenth birthday.) My mom was Ottawa Valley Irish, which is slightly different from real Irish. For instance, we don't have leprechauns in the Ottawa Valley, just garden gnomes. And when we get angry, we don't throw potatoes at our enemies; we throw hardened cow pies. Everything else is pretty much the same, except maybe the accent.
More Statements	Scripts	Songs
© 2011. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.