Canada has long enjoyed its reputation of being one of the friendliest and drunkest of nations on earth. However, somewhere in between the gestures of kindness and brewing the best known beer to mankind, we've managed to do some great things.
Featured: Canada's top 2 exports.
Basic Canadian geography consists of the following areas:
- Arctic (Yukon, Northwest Territories, Nunavut): below 0 degrees almost all the time. Home to polar bears, baby seals, and other animals people like to kill for decoration or fashion.
American equivalent: Alaska. (We can't see Russia from our front door, though).
-West coast (British Columbia): mild temps. Little to no snow in winter. Home to "Hollywood North" (AKA Vancouver), hipsters, pot smokers, and... uhhh...dude, what were we talking about?
American equivalent: California.
- Not-quite-west-coast-and-not-quite-prairie (Alberta): typical four seasons, no extreme changes in climate. Home to largely conservative, truck driving, oil-producing, mega-rich tycoons who love them some BBQ and a cowboy hat. Also, Nickleback. We're so incredibly sorry.
American equivalent: Texas.
- Mid-prairie (Saskatchewan): two seasons: scorchin' summer and ball-burstingly cold winter. Temps range from high 30's in summer to -45 in winter. Do your own damn C to F conversion. Home to few people and even fewer non-incestuous relationships.
American equivalent: Whatever state that movie Deliverance was about.
-Central prairie (Manitoba): two seasons: construction and winter. Summer temps burn the air as you breathe it and winter freezes your lungs if you try to breathe outdoors without at least 6 scarves over your mouth. Home to listless, apathetic, ambitionless peoples ("Meh. Manitoba's okay, I guess" is the motto on the license plates).
American equivalent: the non-bible-belt parts of the Midwest.
American equivalent: New York City- if it were uptight and not cool at all.
-East (Quebec): two seasons: maple syrup winter collection and near-nudity summers. Home to French speakers who want to break up with Canada and form their own country, and English speakers who go for the bachelor party weekend and never find their way home, eventually settling there.
American equivalent: Louisiana- if it were full of arrogant assholes instead of friendly cajuns.
- Maritime provinces (Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, PEI, Newfoundland & Labrador): one season: rainy. Home to alcoholics, trailer parks, and confusing accents.
American equivalent: choose any random Southern state and insert here.
Canada's two official languages are English and French. This means that for all federal government services, you have the right to be treated like shit in both languages.
Contrary to popular belief, hockey is actually not Canada's official sport: Lacrosse is. It's a game where people run around on a field using long sticks with cups on the end, hucking a ball at each other to try and score a goal.
Really? This looks like an overly aggressive attempt at butterfly catching. You would think with our harsh winters and bountiful ice that hockey would be our national sport. So, Canadian government, you're sure about this? Definitely? No chance of changing your mind? Okay, whatever.
This still happened.
Our national animal is the beaver.
Truly, our founding fathers were visionaries.
We have a Prime Minister, not a President. Yes, the Queen of England is technically still our lord and master, but it's an empty title. It's just like when your parents would go on a vacation when you were old enough to stay home alone by yourself . You were then free to do whatever you wanted, but usually just sat around watching sideboob on Cinemax and yanking the snake until you passed out from exhaustion.
Yes, this means we wank it all the time. What else would you do with 6 months of winter?
Canada uses the metric system. This means we use kilometres, Celsius, centimetres, kilograms, litres, and other words you don't understand to measure things.
This has been a source of continuing rage and frustration to Americans everywhere when visiting Canada.Here are some typical exchanges that are commonplace:
Scenario 1: The Gas Station
American, looking at sign posting gas prices: Holy shitballs! Gas is only 97 cents a gallon! We're filling up here!
Canadian clerk: Okay, sir, that'll be $38.80 for the gas.
Perplexed American: But my car's gas tank only holds 10 gallons! I should only be charged for $9.70 for gas!
Canadian clerk: Ummm... sir, we measure gas in litres. 10 gallons is roughly 40 litres. So 40 litres of gas times 97 cents a litre equals $38.80.
Perplexed American: Something's wrong with your pumps. I'm not paying out the ass for your mistake!
Canadian clerk: Sir, I'm very sorry, but there's nothing wrong with our pumps. As I said, we measure in-
Perplexed American: Fuck you, sonny boy! (Lights cigar and tosses match onto oily rag pile). USA! USA! USA!
Scenario 2: Driving in a residential area in Canada
Canadian police officer: Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?
Perplexed American: No. I was driving the speed limit. What's the problem?
Canadian police officer: Sir, you were doing 80 in a 50 zone.
Perplexed American: What? No way. I was doing 50, I swear! See? There's even a sign over there that says "50". That's the speed I was going!
Canadian police officer: Sir, we use kilometres in Canada. 50 kilometres per hour is about 80 miles per hour. You were driving 30 kilometres over the speed limit down a residential street. Didn't you think to at least slow down when you saw kids riding their bikes and old ladies shuffling down the sidewalk?
Perplexed American: No way, pig. This here's a custom chopper built from old parts from James Dean's machine! People get the fuck outta my way when I'm comin' because they respect my hog. Y'all need to learn some respect up here.
Canadian police officer: Okay, there's no need to call me 'pig.' Tell you what- I'll just give you a warning-
Perplexed American (shoves cop into oncoming traffic and roars away): USA! USA! USA!
Scenario 3: The Dick-Measuring Contest at the bar
Perplexed American: I bet I'm bigger than you, buddy!
Canadian: Ha! Not fuckin' likely, my friend.
Perplexed American: I'm dangling at 7! No way you're bigger than that!
Canadian: Only 7? Man, I feel sorry for you! I'm 18 long.
Perplexed American: There's no fuckin' way!
Perplexed Canadian: Why? 18 is about average for Canadian men.
(Extended shocked silence)
Perplexed American: There's no way that's true! Let me see it, then. I want to know if you're shitting me or not.
Canadian (shrugs): Fine. Let's go to the can and I'll show you.
In the can:
Perplexed American (drops trou): There! See! That's a real cock! Let's see this "majestic wang" of yours.
Canadian (shrugs): Okay. (Drops trou). See? All 18 of it.
Perplexed American: What? Yours looks like the same size as mine! What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull here?
Canadian (a look of comprehension spreads on his face): Oh! I get it now! You see, in Canada, we use centimetres-
Perplexed American (sweaty and slack-jawed): Nevermind. Let's fuck.
USA! USA! USA!