Tag Archives: church

Cross Border Haircut

Now that Dongald is Grand Moff of her United States, we Canadians aren’t so eager to hop longitudes to enjoy American roads and avenues named after famous trees. We used to get excited at the prospect of prancing into the Eagle’s nest to buy legendary cereals, eat at restaurants with big food, and drop major coin on cheap milk thanks to your rock bottom food standards. But with the oven now preheated to “Hell”, we’ll probably be spending our Queens on local grease instead.

There are still a few things worth boinging the border for and that’s basically the thesis of the piece unless you’re more visual than visceral, in which case we invited you to enjoy the proceedings from a font standpoint.

Check these things out:

Cross Border Haircut


“I am a barber, I am strong, I will quit if I snip wrong” – U.S. Snipocratic Oath

This one’s pretty simple: There are more people in the United States than in Canada. More people = more hair; more hair=more haircuts; more haircuts=more experienced barbers; more experienced barbers=better barbers; better barbers=better haircuts; better haircuts=better TV; better TV=popcorn sales; popcorn sales=corn profits; corn profits=more money for corn masters; more money for corn masters=happier corn masters; happier corn masters=more sex; more sex=more babies; more babies=more hair; more hair=more barbers.

It’s also worth noting that Vidal Sassoon arrived in the United States in 1965(!).

Cross Border God Shows


“The only animal in this ark is our Wi-Fi password, which is BlackToad

There’s no denying that America’s gaga for God-god, and while tons of Yankee dudes and dudettes are loudest when yelling at Him inside their own heads during evening prayer, many more prefer to broadcast their praise from within immense crystal churches in stunning 4K and Dolby Stereo Surround Sound.

Our local Jesters of Jesus are more modest preferring “ministry miniseries” over “bethel blockbusters”. Our northern worshippers aim for a ceremonial tone that jives with stodginess of the Bible herself. I mean, you wouldn’t put a lacy bra on a beef’s udder now would you?

If you really want to see some praying, head over to the U.S. where billboards scream the Bible’s best, and real deal barkers pack immense complexes with fans and state-the-art wireless PA systems. Sometimes you gotta realize that money is best spent amplifying the voices of god’s faves as opposed to helping those god has deemed unfit to have money.

Cross Border Survival Games

“Hello boy, where do you wander?
Here is a riddle for you to ponder:
Down this path and up another;
Where man’s soul is torn asunder;
Whispers, spirits, evil things;
One plus two makes woodland kings”
– Unknown

Most of the world hates the same things as America, such as crud, wasps, goo, and the flu. But for some reason they’re the only ones who have a problem with socialized healthcare. That means that every trip into the Fab Fifty is a potentially dangerous mission where even a cute cut could translate to millions of dollars in wallet damage.

If you like to live dangerously, there’s no better way to put your blood at stake than by going to a place where guns are sprinkled into the landscape like salt on a baker’s apprentice’s fake pretzel. If you’re looking to roll the dice but can’t find a flock of glocks to get spicy with, ramp it up by getting a simple scrape then running around nude in the American woods. Try to survive the system and your numerous infections. If things get dicey you can return home to your Canadian doctor who has no idea if you’re rich or poor unless you wear one of those hats with the logo of your car on it.

Okay thanks for reading! Now it’s time for the OFFICIAL glennmacaulay.com blog after show:


Advent Calendar 2014 — December 23

First time on the Internet? These blue words are links to the other Advent calendar entries. You sort of have to read them first. Can’t get these in book stores.

December 1               December 9               December 17
December 2              December 10             December 18
December 3              December 11              December 19
December 4              December 12             December 20
December 5              December 13             December 21
December 6              December 14             December 22
December 7              December 15
December 8              December 16

You materialize into a large church, finding yourself standing at the back, gazing up at the amazing stained glass:


You thought the autograph on the church flyer might bring to you another film set or maybe a memorabilia shop, but whatever, in the words of your father, “church can be fun if you imagine it being a playground for people who don’t watch TV.”

At the front of the church a guy in robes is talking about Christmas.

“On that cold night, Jesus was born and the angels sang and Santa was not there. The wise men presented the babe with gold, frankincense, myrrh and a little hat that one of their wives knit that has a cute rhino on it. Let us now sing today’s feature hymn. For those of you who cannot sing, please find a pair of corduroy pants underneath the pews which you may use to make fun scraping sounds to the beat.”

The congregation pulls out their hymn books and a few people grab the pants. You look up at the hymn board and see this:


Nice, you’ll only have to stay here a few minutes.

The organist starts ticklin’ and everyone starts singing and scraping pants. You pick up a hymnbook and find a page labelled “December 23”. You figure you might as well belt a few bars before getting out. The song goes like this:

Bethlehem Snow

I was there, I saw the birth, the new King brought to this Earth
The little town of Bethlehem was radiating mirth

But I sold rugs and had to split, my camel packed and ready
I said “goodbye!”, ate some figs and rode on, fast and steady

Before the gates, the sky went dark and a chill filled the air
I looked up to the stars above and white shit fell on my hair

“What the hell?” I asked Denis, my brown camel strong and true
But he just smiled, licked his lips and dropped some sandy poo

Snow in Bethlehem is bullshit even on Christmas Day
You get real cold, your feet get wet and cows eat frozen hay
Women wear more and beer ain’t refreshing and I don’t own a hat
I had to kill my camel Denis and wrap myself in his fat

Now I’d seen a lot of things, including bearded chicks
But it never snows in Bethlehem so I assumed dirty tricks

I punched a man who walked on by because he looked real dumb
By then the snow was four feet deep and my balls were getting numb

I ate some snow because it was free and all the world went black
It wasn’t snow but instead was bleach that had fallen from my sack

Snow in Bethlehem is bullshit even on Christmas Day
You get real cold, your feet get wet and cows eat frozen hay
Women wear more and beer ain’t refreshing and I don’t own a hat
I had to kill my camel Denis and wrap myself in his fat

You’ve been to a lot of Christmas services and once sold personalized, old timey Bibles at an amusement park but you’ve never heard this song before. You especially like the kicking beat that sounded more or less like this:

As soon as you sing the last words loud and proud, you start to disappear and feel good knowing that you spent at least a bit of time in church around Christmas. Two more days until you either die or go back home, who knows? Find out more tomorrow!