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Straining Credulity at Every Turn

7/4/2013

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If you believe the subject line to an email in my inbox, my new penis has arrived. Also, I have won a trip. And hot chicks are waiting to meet me tonight. Ah spam… you’re just like makeup – taking something OK but kind of lackluster and making it shine, promising free gifts (with purchase - ha!) that you actually have to pay for. And like makeup, you are also capital-F fake with a tendency to smear in a most unbecoming way.

Speaking of bogus, the upcoming issue of  Hello! Canada apparently offers the inside scoop on the recent Chavril nuptials, which allegedly took place July 1 in a French castle. Yeah, I know. I want to be happy for these two crazy kids, I really do. But something in me (you… there in the back row who just yelled ‘Cynic…’ stuff it) just doesn’t buy it for a second.

Maybe it’s because we have never seen Avril Lavingne actually smile before, so the presence of fangs in her nasty little mouth seems kind of surreal. Or that Chad Kroeger looks like her creepy Uncle Ned who, three CC-and-Cokes into the evening, will smirk and insist she pulls his finger.

It could also be that the whole thing just seems too damn convenient, and everyone knows that love is many things but never, ever is it convenient. I don’t ever have to do a Facebook survey to know that’s true. My inky black soul tells the story.

Nickelback’s booking agent, who happens to be an acquaintance and a damn decent fellow, insists the romance is real. So does a friend of mine who runs a fancy-pants restaurant with a private dining room and swears he witnessed the two swapping spit over steak and expensive bottles of plonk. These men have no Earthly reason to lie. And yet…

Well, I guess the Chavril Marriage Death Watch™ is officially on. I am going to get the ball rolling by predicting they’ll last 11 months, tops. Sadly, the effervescent, brown-nosing Hello! Canada will have to leave dissemination of that message to a less forgiving entity like Us Weekly or the National Enquirer. Until then, I’ll be waiting. Heartache will have its revenge.


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    Kim Hughes

    Here resides the random thoughts, blurbs  and dangling participles of the Toronto-based writer named above.

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