Crack-smoking Toronto Mayor Rob Ford made the latest in a series of shocking revelations when he admitted, “I may have gone to Burning Man, but that doesn’t make me a burner” at a shame-faced press conference. Responding to a question about sexual harassment of a female staffer, Ford said “look, I’m eating plenty of ‘seafood poutine’ on my own time, without having to bother the hired help. For starters, that week I said I spent on a ‘fact finding mission to better understand how civic responsibility manifests itself in fast-growing American cities’? Well, whatever the fuck that actually means, I wasn’t exactly lying to you…. I just happened to have spend most of it molly’d off my giant, sweaty man-boobs in something called an ‘Orgy Dome’, providing ‘oral services’ to some sexually-confused twenty-somethings I met at a ‘trap’ party in the middle of the Nevada desert. And I learned a lot from the experience, believe me. For a start, in my line of work ‘a trap’ is usually a transexual hooker who has pictures of you in compromising positions. But I can tell the good citizens of Toronto that I’ve leaned ‘trap’ is also a genre of really shitty music. So that’s something, no?”
The flushed-faced and bloodshot-eyed Ford went on to explain that he’d gained “a shit-ton of perspective on municipal debris management by bangin’ seven-gram rocks out at the trash fence” then babbled on for a while in what one reporter described as a “Daniel Pinchbeck-style rant about Mayan prophecies regarding the inevitable destruction of Montreal”.
When challenged as to whether he was still capable of representing Toronto as Mayor, Ford shot back, “two words, bitch! Larry fuckin’ Harvey!”
The press conference ended abruptly after Ford claimed that his inability to suppress footage of his crack-smoking activities should remind people that ‘Leave No Trace’ sounds good on paper but is hard to achieve in practice, then slurred something about “no spectators” and video footage of his “epic Black Rock crack binge being a massive violation of his right to radical self expression.”
Ford’s parting words: “If you want a picture of some three-hundred-pound crack-monkey banging bazooka-rocks with a couple of sunburned crack-whores behind that big fucking Robot Heart thing….. ask permission first, fuckwads!”