Caca Nana Dada · 1 July 2001
It being Canada Day, I feel a small surge of hoserism coursing through me. And as a soon-to-be expatriate, I feel compelled to point out notable Canuckleheads living – as they say in Newfoundland – away:
In London, there is Craig Taylor, who’s written a review of everything he’s ever encountered; in Chigago, Chester, a huge storm cloud over party shoes; of course you all know Heather and her lethal eyes in San Francisco; and then there’s that most beautiful and beguiling woman living in the South of France.
Canadians remaining as yet North of the 49: Soap Box Girls, whom I like although I can’t hope to understand the sponge thing; Riley Dog, who writes terse; wood s lot, who quotes long, long, long; Clark, who writes circles around his detractors, there’s Toastboy in Montréal, who’s pretty fucking smart; Mike Dewit here in Lotusland, funnier than you are; Grant Splorp in Edmonton, who should post more than once a month; and a hundred others whom I read regularly.
And there’s this woman in Georgia who knows more about Canadians than all of us...
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