It is with deep regret that I inform you all of the passing of our good friend Cainad, during his ill-advised expedition to the wilds of Montreal.
He had been warned, of course, about Canadians, particularly the French variety, but he was a slave to SCIENCE, and insisted on studying their habits. He had filled several notebooks on their rather disgusting food and mating habits, and crossing those two subjects is what did him in. He saw the word "frommage", and read it as "frottage", and set off to investigate the behavior he thought he was investigating.
An angry mob chased him from the cheese shop, and he made it as far as a Gold's Gym before they caught up with him. He died bravely and with dignity, though. He was found draped naked over a gymnastics horse, with a pair of fishnet stockings jammed down his throat, and Sharpie markings of shame scrawled across his butt cheeks.
I will miss the lad, and so will the scientific community.
:cry:
Quote from: Dirty Old Uncle Roger on September 15, 2013, 06:20:25 PM
It is with deep regret that I inform you all of the passing of our good friend Cainad, during his ill-advised expedition to the wilds of Montreal.
He had been warned, of course, about Canadians, particularly the French variety, but he was a slave to SCIENCE, and insisted on studying their habits. He had filled several notebooks on their rather disgusting food and mating habits, and crossing those two subjects is what did him in. He saw the word "frommage", and read it as "frottage", and set off to investigate the behavior he thought he was investigating.
An angry mob chased him from the cheese shop, and he made it as far as a Gold's Gym before they caught up with him. He died bravely and with dignity, though. He was found draped naked over a gymnastics horse, with a pair of fishnet stockings jammed down his throat, and Sharpie markings of shame scrawled across his butt cheeks.
I will miss the lad, and so will the scientific community.
:cry:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alas! We have warned him of the dangers of the Quebecois, but he didn't listen!
Those motherfuckers can run REALLY fast.
I'll have you know that it is explicitly stated in my will that You People must attend a Separate But Equal funeral arrangement from my family members. They are delicate and to be protected from the rest of the "Scientific Community."
He fought the good fight, and as a result of his brave research we now know more about Canadians than at any point in human history.
Magellan, Scott, Cook, Cainad. All killed while serving the pursuit of knowledge and the spirit of exploration. He takes his place among them.
He will not be forgotten.
Oh no! Poor, poor Cainad. He was so brave. :horrormirth:
We will never forget!
\
:teabagger1:
I, for one, am glad the fucker's dead.
A recently rediscovered I.O.U from my great-great-great-grandfather had informed me that Cainad's familial equivalent1 borrowed an amount from him for use in an opium den2. The wiley bastards have eluded several generations of collectors3. I thought my chance to finally get back from him the (adjusted for inflation) seven and a half million chicken eggs lay in the 2010 Connecticut Meatup.
When confronted, he claimed such a transaction was impossible and further argued that while the value of a chicken egg has gone up since the original borrowing, so have the size of chickens' eggs. I conceded the latter point due to the process of selective breeding and we agreed on a much more reasonable six and a quarter million chicken eggs, which he agreed to pay "tomorrow, or something."
I was beginning to suspect "or something" was simply not going to come, prior to this announcement.
1 One cannot rightly refer to the degenerate line of Cainads in common terms, as subsequent spawns in the clan are biologically less "sons" or "daughters" as we think of them than they are "soulless, featureless, pulsating goo creatures which take on the genetic traits of their progenitors in a vile orgy of absorption which leaves the 'parental' victims lifeless husks."
2 The man was not a user of opium. He frequented the places in order to sniff the socks of the drugged patrons, which he claimed "just smelled sweeter than other socks."
3 The escapades of which were made famous in the highly regarded film Birth of a Nation.
Stapling a tub of poutine to his coattails is all less funny and tragic now.
i pledge to do a big pouring rain masscara streaked apology sob at his grave after the family leaves, but is not quite out of sight.