I Live in a Meth Lab at Fernbrook Resort Freelton

I Live in a Meth Lab at Fernbrook Resort Freelton

If you'll remember, as a result of the complex rating system used to classify homes at prestigious Fernbrook Resort in Freelton Ontario, our trailer heaven was re classified upwards. To the more prestigious Crack Den status (from Meth Lab). However we later learned that the step up was in error and the state of our residence was so questionable that not only were we ordered to stop referring to our home as a Crack Den but we were also banned from telling folks that we live in a Meth Lab.

And then this happens.

Last night around the Witching Hour I hear someone scratching at our door. So I open it. And and who was it? One of Fernbrook's most elite and well respected residents: Dextrose Morphine Junior. I know that's an unsual name and, apparently, though spending much of his life in the Principality of Andorra, he was born in Viet Nam to parents of Iraqi and Ugandan heritage. He told me that he speaks several languages including English, American, Canadian and that he's currently studying Australian.

So he's no dummy.

Anyway Dextrose looks me straight in the eye and says in his heavily Spanish accented Canadian, "Hey muchacho, I need to score me some meth. Can you do me a solid?"

Of course I took the question as a compliment (imagine us living in a meth lab) but all the same I had to tell my guest, "Sorry Dude, this ain't no meth lab," I replied in a profoundly disappointed voice.

But Dextrose, without even hesitating, shoots back: "No worries man, sooooo how about you fill up my crack pipe then?"

So I filled up his pipe and he trotted off into that good night.

I didn't really give him crack, I gave him cubes of sugar. And he didn't seem to know the difference.

I know what you're thinking, CUBES OF SUGAR? What are you? A refugee from the 1930s? No one uses cubed sugar anymore. Well I do use cubed sugar. At breakfast I enjoy building little forts out of them which I then bombard with Maltesers (TM). And when I'm done playing? I eat them. Try doing that with Lego! I also ate a Mrs. Potato Head once and trust me, those things aren't made out of potatoes. Talk about your false advertising.

Anyway... the point of this incident is, is that if one of Fernbrook Resort's finest and most upstanding citizens, the highly eductaed and world travelled Dextrose Morphine Junior, can mistake our unclassified home for a Meth Lab then, at the very least, we deserve the Meth Lab rating AND the improved social standing that goes with it. Because, currently, our low social standing only permits us to converse with non-Siamese cats. And trust me on this, after half an hour talking to a cat, you feel like you're on crack. Really bad crack. A trip that will scar you for life.

So, to make a stupid story short, I'm going to appeal our reclassification.

May reader's thoughts and prayers be with us during this most trying of ordeals.