No prediction on the “JOOOOOOO!!!!”-yness of the comments…
But as I’ve noted here before, it’s Canada’s highest court that’s got its tiny collective mind in the gutter. From what I can make out, they only take cases that are actually just old Penthouse letters typed out and left on their chairs. Our ruling class has based practically its entire worldview on one sentence uttered by Trudeau the Elder in (when else?) 1967—“There’s no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation”—yet one branch of government has apparently sprung for a circular California queen with satin sheets and runs the whole country from there like Hugh Hefner.
There’s no way you missed their latest decision, because it made international headlines: “Canada legalizes bestiality.” The media being the media, that’s not exactly what happened, but still: Some guy appealed his bestiality conviction by pointing out that, hey, he didn’t get the family dog to screw his stepdaughters, just lick peanut butter off their genitals! Sheesh. And the court sided with him; to paraphrase their ruling, “no penetration, no problem.”
“It looks like the Star’s gonna have to order a lot more bankers boxes.”
Besides “Smooth or crunchy?” (and “How are these two girls the only kids in North America NOT allergic to peanuts?”) my question is the same one I have whenever the Court hears any of these wacky sex cases:
Who the hell APPEALS this stuff? How do they explain to their bosses why they need time off work (again)? (“But Mr. Johnston, don’t you understand? I’m the Rosa Parks of Jiff!”) And what percentage of my extorted tax dollars pays for these Luis Buñuel film reenactments (but without the jokes and the Catherine Deneuve)?