top of page


This is a deeply erotic painting of Jason Kenney and Erin O’Toole. Impish and perky breasted, the two men will be working hand in nipple to foist modern conservatism onto Canadians like the hot wet stink of summertime garbage.


While Andrew Scheer was scrounging loose change from the office couches in a sweaty panic during the Conservative Party leadership race, Jason Kenney endorsed Erin O’Toole. O’Toole not only got an endorsement from the man with the second lowest approval ratings in the country, in a province with the highest deficit in its history, but also the support of his well lubed organizational network. Kenney could manage a little help for his friend because it’s not like there was anything else going on that needed his attention.  


Erin O’Toole won, is the newly minted Leader of the Opposition and has set his sights on the highest office in the land. His galvanizing call to Canadians is that it’s time to “Take Canada Back”. Take Canada back from, I guess, other, different Canadians? The ones he isn’t talking to? It’s a super winning strategy. Some folks see this as racist dogwhistle bullshit, but I’m much more of an optimist. When Mr. O’Toole says he wants to Take Canada Back, he means Take Canada Back to the Future, so he can go into the past and have sex with his mom when she’s still hot.


The two have plenty to gain in their mutual and titillating partnership. Jason can teach Erin how to run the economy into the ground while ensuring corporate taxes are low enough for you to move your headquarters from this doomed province, and Erin can teach Jason the guitar solo in Johnny B Goode.


They’re like the lovable geriatric muppet duo Statler and Waldorf. With the exception that one is a pair of ineffective puppets beholden the whims of the invisible hands up their butts, and the other pair is also those things in addition to being a couple of gooby fuckheads named Jason Kenney and Erin O’Toole.


But back to the painting. The tender touch of Kenney’s thumb and index finger is something most nipples only dream of. As we can see from O’Toole’s toothy grimace, he is mid-climax. In the background we see former Prime Minister Stephen Harper looking on with a boner of his very own. Ever present, rarely seen, Stephen Harper is the shadowy architect of liberalism’s pasty reckoning. He also committed the barbaric cultural practice of turning With a Little Help From my Friends into emotionless dirge that is the real reason John Lennon died. The painting is 30x40, acrylic on canvas, and would look great in the dark room you visit daily to weep, or at any number of the mass child funerals that will be held two to three weeks after the first day of school.



bottom of page