Just the Saks

This morning, I decide I can no longer ignore the new signage at the GO station.

I figure, once an ad campaign makes its way to Hamilton, it needs to be criticized.

Such is the case with the following advertisement:

Saks Fifth Avenue.

As a general rule, I hate anything intentionally written in that sickly sweet uber cursive font.

Even if that’s a logo from the dawn of time.

I chuckle.

Anyone who thinks Hamilton commuters have the expendable income to shop at Saks Fifth Avenue is a moron.

I mull over this over.

It does appear that gift giving season is upon us.

We’ve managed to escape the ridicule of the Remembrance Day renegades, the folks who think celebrating the real reason for the season, the birth of Christ should not begin until after the Flander’s Fields poem.

I never understood that.

Remembrance Day shouldn’t be just a day.



Reverance for our heroes.

Being grateful.

These sentiments should be conveyed throughout the year.

Respect for those who fought for our freedom shouldn’t be bundled in a 25 minute proverbial bough.

It should be a continuous train of thought.

I enjoy that pun.

I hope none of us or our children have to endure such unimaginable hardships, but with a manchild about to run the US, I can’t be sure.

An extremely attractive guy just sat across from me.

I smelled him before I saw him.

He smells like expensive Saks Fifth Avenue cologne, not the Aqua Velva stuff you get at Walmart.

I notice a rock of a wedding band.

It’s hard not to.

I wonder how many tacos that could buy us once he hocks it and we get married.


He opens his phone and I notice a Toronto Maple Leafs case cover.

Fantasy over.

Moving on, I wonder, what kinds of presents would my former love interest buy for people?

What am I going to buy for people?

Which people?

Looking at this poster may have inspired some ideas.

The above gift is ideal for the person in your life that you wouldn’t mind getting accidentally shot in the forest. Could also work as a couple’s gift. Only reserved for the exceptionally annoying.

The above gift is ideal for the office Kris Kringle. While other coworkers are exchanging scented candles, photo frames and mugs with Starbucks marshmallows, you can give out a generic wallet and watch.

Besides, nothing says “I didn’t want to participate in this gift exchange but majority rules” moreso than a black watch and matching wallet. Bonus points for regift potential.

This above gift is ideal for–ok, wait a minute. I have no idea what the hell this is supposed to be.

Could be candles.

Could be classy beer pong. Might even be a holiday chalice, to make your cheap wine and beer taste like cheap wine and beer but with a waxed texture. I don’t even know.

Give this to an in-law. Make sure you are there when they open it. Watch them squirm as they try to guess.

The above gift is ideal for the gangsta in your life that’s living ‘dat thug life, or at least pretending to be.

You likely have a young relative that dresses like a rapper but is whiter than chalk. Who tells people he’s from the projects but has lived all his pampered life in suburbia.

He watched 8 mile and related deeply to Eminem.

Give these to him.

The best case scenario; you give the moron some sorely needed street cred. Worst case scenario, he gets rolled for his chains. That’ll teach him. Win win.

The abovie gift is most ideal for the Jackson 5 fan in your life. Go on, make the investment, its easy as ABC…

This gift is ideal for the brand tramp in your life. For the person who loves to smell edible. I don’t know about you, but one of my favourite parts of the day is slathering myself with Grapefruit Body Creme.

Make sure the you announce the gift as “creme pour le corps” in your most obnoxious French accent.

I’m pretty sure I saw this knockoff at Dollarama.

It was Mo Jalone Pamplemousse cream. It was flying off the shelves! Un, deux, pamplemousse…just like that.

Last but definitely not least, the above gift is ideal for that annoying PDA couple in your life. The couple that, when seated on a bench or sofa, they look like modern art.

One cannot tell where one begins and the other one ends. This is because they now share one pea sized brain.

You probably have a nickname for this pair where you’ve fused their two names as one.

You’ve kept this hybrid name a secret from them, because instead of having it’s intended effect of being mean, they’d find the name cute.

Bonus points if you gets these stitched together.

They’d like it better that way.



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