And what whispers on the lonely biking trails surrounding Haliburton?

No More Ghosts - Please!!

Ghost Rider in the Hills of Haliburton
By Seamus O’Bradaigh 
The elusive Highland Wheeler. 
 A shimmering bike-bound shroud. 
 Rolling silent down a Highlands Highway. 
 Apocryphal? 
 Anecdotal? 
 Or rural legend? 
 The Wheeler, a Highlands’ phenomenon, and strange swaying apparition. Rod Serling popped the big nut, so it’s left to a local investigative journalist - who is either Crocodile Dundee, the newly risen poltergeist of Steve Irwin, or Jack Brezina dressed in Tilley drag – to draw us into the mystery surrounding this stunningly slippery specter via several vibrant videos on You Tube. 
Scotland has its Nessie; the Andes has its Yeti; and my schizophrenic neighbor will apparently always have Elvis. Now, the Haliburton Highlands apparently has its Wheeler. 
A synthesis of ectoplasm, titanium and rubber. 
 I’m just guessin’ here folks, based on the current cycling technology and paranormal studies and stats. The fearless You Tube reporter – Crikey I bloody hope it’s Stevie Boy - and a growing contingent of local riders, like the Tuesday Real Easy Riders Club, say they have had experiences, eerie premonitions and frank encounters during rides of late.

Canadian women win gold - so celebrate dammit!

Fuck You Smelly Felli and IOC!

Reprinted from march 2010
by Seamus O'Bradaigh
And the old farts that commingle with whores, hefty expense accounts, and shady dolla-dolla- bill meanderings with wannabee host cities have deemed that the post-game celebrations on the BC Place ice by Canada's gold medal winning women's hockey team nudge rudely the accepted norms of the euro-haute-couture mini-piss-ant byzantine empire known as the IOC.
They come, they spew, they vent, and say that it's not in the spirit of the Olympic games.
Yeah?
Well fuck you bozos.
We couldn't give a rat's ass and dick what you roman nosed ersatz dunderheads think.
This is Canada.
In Canada we play hockey. And we freakin' win too!
When we win, we smoke some stogies, drink some beer, and comandeer Zambonis.
Shit!
When we lose, we drink beer, smoke stogies and drive the Zamboni to the Wendy's Drive Thru.
So shut the fuck up.