Confessions of a Stephen Harper Troll – Chapter Nine

TrollRectangleSo it’s noon and we are heading out for our first door-knocking shift.

Feeling a little shifty cause Spindog came over to the motel last night and we went drinking.

We got this huge box of stuff, CDs and everything, in the trunk all about the free money for the kids and how to sign up people. We got the ID badges on and we got another huge box of Party t-shirts in case anybody asks for one. And lots of other Party stuff in the back seat.

Spindog is reading up on the tax deal in the front seat. It’s supposed to be simple, but it’s not.

He says to me, “I got an idea.”

“Can’t wait,” I say.

“We’re only getting paid $20 an hour,” he says“

And all our meals and rooms are paid for,” I say.

“Just, let me finish, man.”

He says, “We’re going door-to-door anyway, so why not try and make money at the same time? Greenpeace pays people to go door-to-door to raise money for them, so let’s sign up to do that.”

“Oh yeah, Greengrease, that’s the ticket,” I say.

He says he’s done it before and made money and it’s real easy.

“They’’ll never know,” he says.

Besides, if Poilievre can wear whatever T-shirt he wants, why can’t we?”

So we jump in the car and spend an hour at the ratty little Greengrease office getting set up, with Spindog doing all the talking, saying we both did it before. The woman says don’t push people too hard and we take off with clipboards and Greengrease T-shirts. By now it’s lunch and we go to Mickey D’s. Everything takes for fucking ever.

Back in the car we head out to a part of the city called Strathcona. Spindog has his Greengrease T-shirt on and I’m knocking on doors. Finally, someone answers and I go into the speech. “Do you have children under 18?” is the first thing we’re supposed to ask.

“Well, who are you?” the woman asks.

So, we show her the ID and she’s looking it over real careful. Meantime, I’m trying to show her the tax stuff, so she gets the picture. Then Spindog decides to start talking about Greengrease.

The chick starts getting freaked out so I’m trying to shut up Spindog and he’s not listening and she up and slams the door on us.

So me and him are on the sidewalk and I’m saying, “One thing at a time, dude. First the taxes, then Greengrease or first Greengrease and then taxes – I really don’t give a fuck.”

He says, “Let’s go for a beer.”

I say, “Let’s finish this street and then go for a beer.”

So we try next door. No one’s home and that’s the way it goes.

Next thing, a cop car pulls up.

“Howdy, boys. What’s up? Let’s see some ID.”

3 thoughts on “Confessions of a Stephen Harper Troll – Chapter Nine

  1. Your adventure was so so confusing it finally became, look, let me perfectly clear, clear when I had some warm beer.


    • Hi Judith, we not trying to be difficult here, but we’re glad that you felt confused because Troll actually lives a pretty confusing life. Nothing quite works out for him and he’s never sure why. Most of us will have that experience from time to time, however, Troll lives that every day.



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