Once upon a time there was a guy named Philipe. Like many, even early, Canadians, Philipe had a huge problem. He fucking hated how shitty Canada was. He was tired of being cold all the time, and living in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. He also hated being a lumberjack, but what was he going to do, he was Canadian. His ugly flannel wearing wife always put maple syrup on everything, and never put out, so he was forced to fuck the moose. He decided that this shit sucked, and that he wanted to leave this shit hole country and go to a better country. So he talked to his wife about it and she said "watcha talkin aboot, im eatin' my cookie." So he said fuck you and moved to California where it's against the law to fuck moose. The End. (I made it extra small for you illiterate Canadian lumberjacks.)