Last night on Facebook my glamourous friend GP Ching pointed out a news story that sez Canada is the fifth happiest country in the world. Are Canadians happier, she asked, than her fellow Americans, who ranked 11th in the poll?
Well, YEAH.
First of all, we're up higher. The altitude mollifies our brains so we're all kinda drugged all the time, like hikers on Mount Everest. It's hard to be unhappy when you're high. (Not that I would know, kids.)
It's also frigging cold in Canada. You ever seen a frog when it's cold? Or a fish? They're, like, stunned. That's how Canadians are when they venture out of their igloos. Stunned. It's hard to be unhappy when you can't form a coherent thought due to your brain cells' chilly resemblance to Sara Lee cheesecake.
We're lovers, not fighters. We don't have guns in our bedside tables – we have dildoes and lube. We like to fornicate. A lot. It's the only thing that keeps us warm when it's 40 below.
Nobody holds a grudge in Canada because we're always apologizing so damned much. It's like, "oh, sorry I just rear-ended your new car," and "that's ok, I forgive you," and "call me sometime and I'll apologize for boinking your wife," and "good idea – it'll give me a chance to apologize for the punch I'm going to deliver to your fornicating FACE."
Which is why I'm sometimes so freaking happy that my face hurts.
