Thursday, November 14, 2013

Toronto's Teeny-Tiny Mayor Rob Ford

Imagine, your dream has arrived. You are Mayor of an important city in North America. You've achieved everything you could have imagined possible.

And today, now into the second year of your first term as Mayor, happens to be the day where you've realized that you have come of age in your role as 'King of Kensington'. You're in your element, you're feeling confidant, you can roll with anybody; any place, any time.

Hell, you can slosh through half a forty pound-er of Vodka in 5 minutes - no problem! You can do this sh*t in your sleep. You can do this, do that, and do the other thing - and still pull off this show that is being Mayor of Toronto.

Easy as Pie. Bring it on!

The sun is shining on The Esplanade, and it's a sleek world down here on the waterfront; with the Grand Boulevard, the glass and steel towers, the Expressway's Art Deco-ish lines. Real World Class down here; feels like Atlantic City, the Trump Plaza Casino or something; some swank, elite European holiday club where only the fashionable, well heeled, super-rich are allowed.

'It's sexy baby! Yeah!! This is like that movie man! And it's St Patrick's Day 2012! Par-tee dude!'

(You're no longer that second brother; the one that's always underestimated; the one who's always left out of the important decisions; the who should never be trusted with the business...)

At the urinal in the washroom at the back of the Brier's Market Bar ... 'Who's the teeny-tiny man now?!' - 'I'm going to show those amateurs how it's done!" he expertly draws out a line on the porcelain lid at the back of the toilet. 

Mayor Ford got really, really drunk that afternoon and evening - and the morning of the next day.

During that time he did beer, vodka, brandy, weed, Oxycontin, cocaine, booze, cocaine, and finally - a rock to finish off the night (morning).

During those hours he made racist Pakistani derisive comments towards an Asian-looking taxi driver (actually calling hm a "Paki"); he called a Staffer a "liberal bitch"; he told three different women at various events, parties, cab rides and stumbling drunken pub crawls - that he was going to preform oral sex on them - and in one case, that he was going to "bang" her vagina.

In one case he used the fact that he had (apparently) slept with one particular Mayors' Office Staffer (and that meant he could therefore dismiss her, because of the fact they had sex means he now owned her? She was his bitch?) ... in order to embarrass her ... in order to negate her attempts to try to talk him into going home (so he wouldn't destroy his term as Mayor).

And in the taxi on the way home in the wee hours of that night's morning, he tells a staffer to get out of the taxi for a minute so he can set up a meeting on his phone that the staffer cannot hear ... And as soon as the taxi pulls up at Mayor Ford's home, he jumps out of the cab (drunk as the high-heavens mind you), gets in his car and drives off - almost hitting the cab as he backs out of his drive.

In the end it's just a passed out, disheveled dumpy man who's mother-in-law finds him passed out in front of the rec-room couch the next morning. No 'pussy banging', no oral sex. Just one last high before it all goes dark; before it all has to get real again.

It's a year later (March 2013) - but it's the same thing. Only this time there are leaks about this behaviour - rather than the wall of silence constructed by loyal Mayors Office Staff doing their job protecting the image of the Office of the Mayor of the City of Toronto.

At this morning's news conference it's about the Sarah Thompson allegation that he was "on something" at the Garrison Ball Fundraiser event the previous day. Allegations that he had done something very inappropriate (grabbed her on the bottom at the public event).

And so the King of Kensington once again strains his blurry eyes through a thumping headache in order to see the questioner through the glare of TV reporters' lights --- to dismiss the charges out of hand.

'That's absolutely not what happened', is what his handlers have told him to say. Deny, deny, deny.

At the urinal in the bathroom off the spacious offices of the Mayor of the City of Toronto he whispers to himself, "Toronto's Teeny-Tiny Mayor is back motherf***ers; I told you didn't I?"

"In my sleep a**holes - In my f***ing sleep!"


Events in this time line were derived from the Toronto Star's Kevin Donovan, Jesse McLean, David Bruser, and Robyn Doolittle's distillation of the evidence that describes Mayor Rob Ford's St Patrick's Day (Saturday, March 17, 2012) - culled from the Stars' investigative reporting - and earlier reports; and a narrative produced by Toronto Police from surveillance and interview notes; written-up by detectives as part of their quest to get a search warrant as part of their "Project Traveller" investigation; and released to the Public by Ontario Superior Court Judge, Justice Ian Nordheimer, on November 13, 2013.

All "thought bubbles" (in italics) - that purport to describe what the subject may have been saying to himself, or thinking to himself - are constructions of the author - an attempt to understand the motivations of the individual in question.

Image via Biking Toronto, Cyclops Blog -

Toronto Star - Wed Nov 13 2013 - "Rob Ford staff told police about Ford’s Bier Markt, Garrison Ball outings" -

Toronto Star - Wed Nov 13 2013 - "Rob Ford did drugs, partied with escort on St. Patrick’s Day, police document alleges" -


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