What is Rob Ford going to say next?

Scott Feschuk looks ahead to the mayor's next newser

Photo illustration by Sarah MacKinnon

Rob Ford, mayor of Toronto, addresses the media.

Good morning. Yep, it’s me again. I’ve got another statement to make, and I’m glad you reporters could take time away from going through my garbage or however you pathetic jackals spend your day. Thanks for being here and I hope you all get tetanus.

As I’ve said, this has been a hard week for me. Possibly the hardest week a human person has ever endured, and I include Gandhi in that, and also Batman when he had to pretend to be the bad guy.

But I’ve got some big news—big, big news.

This past weekend I did my radio show. I asked you media maggots to stay away from my house because I’ve got little kids, OK? I don’t want to come home drunk, sweaty and shirtless to hear about them having been scarred by something they’ve seen.

I also talked about having made mistakes and I said, “If there was a button I could push to change everything, I would. Unfortunately there is no button that exists.”

And that’s what gets me: Why doesn’t that button exist? Think about what we could do with a button that changes everything. Are you done thinking about it yet? Because I’m not. [Closes eyes. Pantomimes shot-gunning a beer while wrestling a tiger.]

Listen up, Toronto: we’re going to build that button. I’m here to announce that, if I’m voted back in next fall, I will ensure that this great city is the first in the whole entire world to have a button that erases bad things—a button that changes everything. Mark my words, we’ll even beat the Orientals. Even though, as I’ve said before, those guys work like dogs.

What can I tell you about this button? Well, I assume it’s going to be red, but I’m not Capt. Kirk so I’ll leave that to the nerds. But it should definitely be red, OK? Possibly it should also blink. What matters most is that the button will be installed on my desk here at City Hall. Don’t worry—I’ll make room for it. I can move the panini press over near the waterbed.

And then every now and then, when the time is right, I’ll push the button—and everything will change. Maybe I push it and you wind up being a millionaire or having cool sideburns. You never know. Maybe I push the button and—boom—everyone who’s ever worked at the Toronto Star gets some disease where your pancreas explodes.

I’m doing this for you, the taxpayer. Remember that Easy button they had at Staples? Like you, I believed it was real. I must have pushed that button, like, 20 times—and still I had to put on my own socks that day. You don’t get over that kind of disappointment.

Don’t get me wrong—this new button is not going to solve all our problems. For example, sometimes I may not remember the events of the night before, to the point that I won’t know whether I need to push the button and change everything. So I’ll have to hire a guy to keep an eye on that. Button Guy, I’ll call him. Did I get into it last night? Do I need to push the button, Button Guy? And Button Guy gives me the nod or the head shake. Either way, I probably push the button just to be safe.

I’ll tell you one more thing: Once we’ve got the button that changes everything, we’re not going to stop there. That’s not the Ford Nation way. We’re going to build more buttons. We’re going to build a button that picks up your garbage. A button that shovels your driveway. Buttons! Buttons! Buttons! It’ll be just like it was going to be with subways, except now with buttons. Maybe we’ll make a button that builds subways!

I can already hear the doubters. I can hear them saying, “Building a button that changes everything is impossible. It can’t be done.” But I want those doubters to listen to me very carefully.

My name is Rob Ford. I am your mayor. I drink to the point of stupor so often that I refer to them as “my drunken stupors.” I’ve been accused of sexual harassment, verbal harassment, pretty much all of the big harassments. I’m profane as hell. I’ve violated conflict of interest laws. Abused my power and position. The cops have been called to my house. I kicked citizens off a bus so it could pick up my football team. My driver is up on extortion charges. Oh, and by the way, I smoke crack cocaine. That’s my record as an elected official.

And you know what? I still have a 43 per cent approval rating.

Don’t ever try to tell me what’s possible.

Follow Scott Feschuk on Twitter @scottfeschuk

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