The thing about Ottawa, as you know, is that it suffers from a surfeit of talk. Talk and paper are the only products produced by the town that fun forgot. Verbal flatulence envelops the city like a thick layer of smog. Chaps who couldn’t attract a crowd to a church basement in Wawa are allowed to stand on their hind legs in the House of Commons and emote on chicken subsidies to an extent that forces even their best friends to retire to their offices to watch Oprah on the square eye.By Allan Fotheringham4 min
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