They’re still airing out the Museum of Civilization from Michel Maisonneuve’s epic Nov. 9 cheese-cutter at the Vimy Gala.
The retired general broke out all the white-boy blues standards in his Vimy Award acceptance speech: everything too woke nowadays, ravages of cancel culture (yo, Jon Vance!), quack, quack, quack. Oh, and, “unbiased reporting seems to have died with Christie Blatchford and Matthew Fisher.”
Nurse, nurse!
“An embarrassment “ sniffed ex-DND wonk Thomas Juneau on Twitter, “and a good illustration of the culture of entitlement that has led to the systematic abuses of power in the senior ranks of the military.”
Even the event’s host, the Canadian Association of Defence Associations Institute, the shopaholic defence lobbyists’ club, disavowed Maisonneuve’s tar-pitter to the Ottawa Petfinder’s David Pugliese:
“Youri Cormier, executive director of the Conference of Defence Associations and CDA Institute noted that ‘many attendees were offended by LGen (ret’d) Maisonneuve’s speech. His remarks do not reflect those of the CDA Institute.’”
The National Post, sensing triggered Libs, followed up with a partial transcript and the inevitable John Robson praising the general’s stale jowl-wobbler as just the anti-woke Col. Blimp bloviation a wussy West needs right now.
Well might Lt.-Gen. Maisonneuve rail against the feminist excesses of our socialist Trudeau BIPOC regime. Michel, after all, was tripping over his own dick 20 years before it became quite so fashionable.
Maisonneuve had seemed on the fast track for Chief of Defence Staff ever since he was the cadet wing commander at RMC back in the ’70s.
Petfinder defence typist Mike Blanchfield pronounced him “an angel in the midst of war,” after spending a day gladhanding with the soldier-cum-diplomat, then supremo of the Kosovar refugee relief team in ‘99.
Somewhat less enthusiastic reviews on the home front, where estranged wife Doreen and the kids were subsisting on welfare as they awaited back support payments from the globetrotting deadbeat.
An acrimonious divorce ensued over many a Frank passim, with much dirty laundry, endlessly disputed support payments (collection of which was further complicated by Michel’s surprise bankruptcy), and a bizarre accusation that Doreen had beaten Michel with a dog leash. (He eventually dropped the assault charge, and his unpublished autobiography, Memoirs of an Abused Husband.)
Doreen alleged numerous affairs over their 22-year union, including various legovers he met on peacekeeping junkets abroad, including the notorious “Pam,” British ex-pat he met in Cyprus in the early 1980’s.
At least two of the general’s horizontal jogging partners worked directly under him at DND HQ in Ottawa, including Carolyn Kern, admin thingy, whose charms were such that Maisonneuve had to commit them to paper.
“Yes, I was looking at you during LFDC,” he wrote in a feverish note, “Boring my eyes on your body is more like it. Could you feel it? I was imagining coming over to you during the meeting and just coming up from behind and slipping my hands around your chest very gently, and lifting up that great red turtleneck.”
Particularly unimpressed by these athletics was then-Defence Minister Art Eggleton, who learned from my organ that Maisonneuve was shagging his special assistant, the much-married Aysha Johnson.
It would prove a shag too far. The embattled Eggs, trying desperately to avoid more bad press, and no doubt disturbed by the presence of another rooster in his ministerial henhouse, put the word out that Maisonneuve was to be packed off on course in Kingston indefinitely.
Thus began Maisonneuve’s glide-path career in academe waiting out his de luxe general’s retirement at RMC, then a sinecure at Collège militaire royal de Saint-Jean, and his current earner at consulting weasels Samuel Associates.
You can dress him up…
