Don and jesus do Canada, sort of…

In January of 1993 I wasn’t quite a 20 year old boy when I visited my friend Jesus in Montreal because he asked me to. He said Montreal was a fun city and that I needed to see it to believe it.  When Jesus asks you to visit, you do it.

I was stupid back then, well, I mean even more so than today, and I thought the Montreal he meant was in Texas, so I agreed to visit because I’d never been to Texas and I had it in my mind that I wanted to drink a beer in all 50 states before I died.  It turns out he was actually talking about the Montreal in Canada.  Have you heard about this place, Canada?

In 1993, the internet wasn’t what it is today, so without Twitter and blogging, Canadians weren’t as popular as they are nowadays.

Today they are all very trendy and smart and the women are all beautiful, but back then, all my Canadian knowledge came from St. Louis Blues hockey players.  They said things like aboot and Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan and liked to drink beer and fight, so I knew they were awesome, but not everyone in America did.

I had to go to Canada in January.

It’s cold in Canada in January.

I agreed to meet my friend and jumped on a flight for a fun weekend trip.

The six hour Air Canada flight included many cocktails with a stewardess named Lucille. You could still get away with calling the Lucilles of the world stewardesses instead of flight attendants back then.

Lucille was Australian with an unfortunate face and lumpy behind.  Her accent started to drive me wild after about the third hour’s worth of adult beverages.  It’s amazing what beers and an exotic accent will do for an unfortunate face and lumpy butt.

Unfortunate or not, she let me drink beers even though my license indicated that I was only 19.  This made her the most awesome woman I’d ever known at this point in my life.  I just knew it was going to be a fun weekend based solely on Lucille’s awesomeness.

I landed in Montreal with a head start on what would be an incredible hangover.  I met my pal Jesus at the airport and had him take me directly to an airport bar so that I’d never be able to remember my first Friday ever in Canada.

Jesus does not like to be called Jesus in public so he insisted that I call him Alexander.

“Why in the world do you want me to call you Alexander?” I asked

“I don’t care for the name Jesus and I like to be called different things when I travel.  In fact, one day we’ll meet again to go gambling and drink Bud Light Lime and you’ll call me Steve,” he said.

“What are you talking about? Bud Light with lime in it sounds fucking awful, Jesus.”

“Alexander, please.  Or Alex for short.  Ooooh, what about Xander for short?!  You know, one day you’ll have a kid and his middle name will be Alexander.”

“No!  I’m not calling you Xander, and this whole thing is ridiculous.  Look at yourself, for God’s sake!”

“What?” Jesus asked, clearly perplexed.

“You’re dressed in a white tunic and brown sandals!  You look like the stereotypical Jesus Christ!  Plus it’s like 12 degrees outside!”

Jesus sneered at me and stormed off to the men’s room in a huff.  I don’t know what he did, but he returned wearing tight rolled jeans and a Montreal Expos baseball t-shirt.  He’d replaced his sandals with some pretty kickass cowboy boots.

“Is this better, hater?” Jesus pouted.

“Hater?  What does that even mean?”

“Nevermind, Don, let’s just go get drunk.”

I liked this Jesus who likes to drink and wear tight rolled jeans, but he didn’t have any cash to pay for a cab ride to the bar.

“I don’t have a fucking job you know, Jesus?  I only work summers.  I had to whore myself out to desperate women just to pay for this trip.  Are you expecting me to buy you drinks all night?”

“Oh, don’t worry Don, I’ll take care of my drinks, Buddy. ” Jesus assured me.  “And call me Alex.”

With that, we were off to the bar.

As the bar began to fill with patrons, I found myself surrounded by a bunch of dolts wearing Nordique sweaters.  I called them jerseys, but these buttfuckers insisted that a hockey jersey was a sweater in spite of the fact that they were not made of wool and wouldn’t keep you warm in a snowstorm.

Worse than the sweaters, they were talking about wrestling as though it were a real sport! I don’t mean the Olympic or collegiate wrestling, that is a real sport.  A real hard one at that.  No, they were talking about Wrestling at the Chase or Hulk Hogan wrestling.  Aye Carumba as Bart would say, you’re grown ass men!

They were arguing amongst themselves about who was the greatest professional wrestler of all time, and the best part was that they’d narrowed the choices down to Rowdy Roddy Piper or Bret “Hit Man” Hart!

How do you say LOL in 1993??!!!!

“What did you just say?” I asked some guy wearing a replica Owen Nolan “sweater.”

“We’re trying to decide who the best wrestler ever is, either Roddy Piper or Bret Hart, eh?” He answered.

I was beside myself in shock because they were all dead serious.

“Are these wrestlers from Canada or something?” I asked.  It seemed like an odd final two otherwise.

“Duh, where else?” Responded some fool wearing a Guy Carbonneau sweater.

“So you’re arguing about who the best CANADIAN wrestler ever was then, right?  Right?” I asked.  I was feeling no pain at this point in my night.

“NO, you asshole!” Shouted the Guy Carbonneau wannabe.  “Best wrestler ever, period!  In the world!”

“OOOOOH, you’re crazy then if you think one of those guys… wait, what did you call me?  Did you just call me an asshole, Guy Carbonneau?”

“I sure did, asshole.  What are you, American?”

“You’re a stupid mother fucker, you know that?  I’d put Hillbilly Jim or Hacksaw Jim Duggan or even any of the Von Erich brothers up against your gay Canadian wrestlers anytime!”

“Are you saying that Hillbilly Jim could beat Bret Hart in a wrestling match,” responded the biggest of the group.

“That’s right!  That’s exactly what I said!” Good Lord, Don, are you really doing this?  Are you really picking a fight with a group of Canadian guys over wrestling?  Yes!  Yes I am!  I could give two shits about wrestling, but I’m out with Jesus Christ and about 19 beers into a kickass Friday night so anything goes!

“And! And! And….Prime Minister Mulroney is, is, is a hom, homo, homosexual!” I said as derisively as I could.  You see, just like being Canadian, it wasn’t as cool to be a homosexual in 1993 as it is today.

“HEY!  Nobody dogs on Brian Mulroney, much less an American!!”

The group of wrestling fanatics were all standing in a semi circle in front of me.  In 1993, I was playing college soccer so I was in pretty good shape and always felt overly confident with beer in my belly.  With my double vision, I believe there were 14 men of varying size in front of me.

The bartender, sensing what was going on, came and offered us all a round of drinks if we promised to sit back down and behave.

I’d do anything for a free drink, so I was all set to let bygones be bygones when out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a bearded man wearing a Montreal Expos t-shirt running at the group with a wooden stool over his head.

Jesus Christ smashed that stool over the heads of three of my new Canadian pals at the same time and it was on.

I grabbed my free Labatts that the bartender had already put on the bar and chugged it down.  Jesus was onto the fifth man in the group with his fists clenched in rage.  Good Lord he was strong for a little man!

He started to wear down and I jumped in to have Jesus’ back.

“I’m no Judas!!!!” I yelled, much to the confusion of everyone, and smashed my bottle over Guy Carbonneau’s thick skull.  “Whooooo!”

Jesus and I were about to win this battle Royale when a beast of a man came up behind us and lifted us both over his head at the same time.

“Holy Fuck!” shrieked Jesus.

“Hey, I know this guy!  Aren’t you that guy who used to wrestle midgets?”

In a thick, French, muddled accent, the giant spoke.

“I am the best wrestler of all time!  Me! Andre the Giant!”

With that, he literally threw Jesus and I out the door of the bar and into the street, followed by the seven idiots we’d just been fighting with.

“That was Andre the Giant, Jesus!!” I said, excitedly!

“It’s Alex, and I know that.  He’ll be dead in a couple of years.”

“Really?  That’s too bad,” I said.  “He’s even bigger than I ever imagined.”

“Seven feet and four inches,” said Jesus.  “But he’s got a really small penis.”

With that, we both stood up and laughed and laughed for a good five minutes as we stumbled drunk down the road to the hotel.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Jesus said.


“Uh, aside from saving you from an ass whooping, they thew us out before we paid for all those drinks.”

“Ha!  You’re right!!  Thank you, Jesu…er, Alex!  You truly are the best son of bitch ever!”

This entry was posted in Humor, Stories, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

48 Responses to Don and jesus do Canada, sort of…

  1. The simple fact that I actually hung out with you in 1993 and have witnessed many shenanigans first hand makes this totally plausible!

  2. Jesus, Don! Ivan Putski, the Polish Hammer, was the best wrestler of all time. You guys should know that.

  3. cookie1986 says:

    You wrote this for me didn’t you? Your bestest most beautifullest Canadian blogger buddy? Us Canadian girls rock.

  4. barbtaub says:

    And the best part, Don, is that your kids will be so scared that you’ll reveal this shit to their friends that you’ll have blackmail material for the better part of their formative years. Well-planned!

  5. Laura Lynn says:

    Bret Hart DOES rule! Everyone knows that. Well, he used to rule. Now I’m depressed…Canadian wrestling is now best represented by Trish Stratus, who kicks ass AND is pretty. Now that’s Canadian wrestling!


  7. Maggie O'C says:

    You are a piece of work.
    Canadians also have a town called Regina, like Ruh GY Nah. That’s funny.

  8. Us Canadian chicks rock, I can tell you that much for sure!
    The problem was that you went to Montreal, when you should have headed to the East Coast. 😉

    Plus our legal drinking age IS 19 – so that automatically makes us awesome, does it not?

  9. Stephanie Sprenger says:

    The fact that this post contains the sentence, “”Holy fuck!” shrieked Jesus” officially makes it the best post ever. That, and many, many other things. Did this really happen? Never mind. It’s hilarious either way.

  10. Don… I’m finding it hard to believe that those guys were wearing Nordiques sweaters… are you sure they weren’t Habs fans instead? It was Montreal, not Quebec City, right?

  11. Funny. Jesus is my actual middle name – but you can call me Alex. 🙂

  12. ardenrr says:


  13. djmatticus says:

    Wow! Just, wow. Next time you go on a trip like that, I want to tag along. It sounds fantastic! 😉

  14. mollytopia says:

    I love everything about this tale! Especially buttfucker and what did you call me? Hooray free drinks! Win!

  15. Cheryl says:

    Aawww… you think us Canadian women are beautiful. Thanks! ~~batting eyelashes~~ We are kinda awesome. LOL! Love the story and Montreal rocks! Their hockey team sucks though.

  16. Learning the hard way says:

    whoa, if jesus really is this cool I may have to rethink my rampant atheism, you whacky evangelist, you!

    • You really should, Jane! Rampant atheism is no way to live your life, especially if you’re going to spend any time in the woods in the great northeastern part of the USA. Maybe drop the rampant?

      • Learning the hard way says:

        yeah. the woods thing? not going to happen. I will consider dropping the rampant and continue on with assuredly. hell, there’s only going to be one true test and if he’s as reasonable as Christians make out, he’ll understand.

  17. Daile says:

    Hey Zeus, I love midget wrestling

  18. Pleun says:

    Great story and a great way to get free drinks!

  19. rossmurray1 says:

    You had me up until the part where they defended Mulroney. Pretty much everyone hated that bastard.
    Also this:
    This was fun. Next time, you ghat to hadd de crahzee haccents.

    • Damn, I pulled that one out of my ass! He had a long run it looked like, so I thought he was popular. Oh well, I don’t research my posts so sue me. That fish wrestler? Epic! I’ll work on the accents my friend.

      • rossmurray1 says:

        How Mulroney stayed in power so long, I can’t say. Chutzpah, mostly. A moribund opposition, also. Wait, am I talking Canadian politics? Sorry. Forgot where I was.

  20. wanderingmom says:

    I really like the way how you talk about Jesus like he was your pal. By the way, my sons’ petname is “Xander”, after I named him Alessandrei on his birthcert.

    • Well Jesus is my pal. I did a post like this a while back that was quite popular both good and bad, so I’d had some requests for Jesus to return. My wife LOVED the name Xander and it was all I could do to talk her out of naming one of our sons Xander. The only thing I had against it was the association I had to a gay cartoon character on a nasty adult cartoon whose name escapes me. It’s not because the character was gay, but the show itself was a bit raunchy. Crazy I know. I do love Alessandrei though. is that Russian or Italian? Can you tell I’m clueless yet??

  21. I kept seeing “Die Hard With A Vengeance” in my head…the scene where Bruce Willis is calling Samuel L Jackson Jesus….and gets corrected. “They’re saying Hey! Zeus!”

  22. hahahahaha awesome post! And you are right. Canada, in particular, Montreal, is FREEZING in January. I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life as I was when I was there.

  23. 1jaded1 says:

    Laughed at the story…hockey season is gonna be starting fast. Are you a Blues fan? Narrows eyes…

  24. findingninee says:

    And to think…all those years and I never got to go to a bar with Jesus. Just one more way in which you are cooler than I.

  25. pegoleg says:

    “I met my pal Jesus at the airport” is the first line of a totally awesome song in the making. Serious.

  26. List of X says:

    So that’s what they mean when they say “Jesus saves” – “Jesus saves you from ass whooping”, and “Jesus saves you your beer money.”

  27. List of X says:

    So that’s what they mean when they say “Jesus saves” – “Jesus saves you from ass whooping”, and “Jesus saves you your beer money”….

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