Laura Secord
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| Laura Ingalls Wilder Secord | |
 Mmm... I loves me the white chocolate. | |
| Born/Found in a dumpster: | Nowhere, USA |
|---|---|
| Genre: | Tattle-taling |
| Affiliation: | Big Candy |
| Labelled: | Yes |
| Notable candy: | French Vanilla and the yucky orange crap |
| Lifetime (in terms of historical events): | American Revolution - Industrial Revolution |
Laura Ingalls Wilder Secord (September 13, 1775 – October 17, 1868) was born in United States of Imperialism during the American peasant uprising. Her loyalist family refused to live in a free, democratic country, with some elected asshole offering rubbish rights such as equal representation and freedom of speech for all citizens; so they chose to move to British North America to live in a civilized, autocratic society where a chosen-by-God-himself monarch would rule over the fate of his subjects..
Her family settled in Stoney Creek, Ontario, where they built a log cabin as they thought it would be cliche to build a home out of the multitude of rocks and pebbles on their property.
Laura would later marry Al Secord (no relation) who played professional ice bowling with the local Blackhawk indian tribe, which later moved to Chicago thanks to Chief Big Sellout.
The Americans are coming[edit]
Al was injured by aflying boobs full of milk during yet another raid by the imperialist US, in what was later to be called the First Cola War. Useless to his God appointed monarch's army and his professional ice bowling team after the injury (although in reality, it was little more than a bruise), he went home to be pampered by his wife while he sat on the couch all day eating chocolates, which were made by Laura for the family's lone income... she wasn't about to spread for no roses. Al passed the time wishing for a display device that would allow him to watch sports 24/7 (and by sports he didn't mean poker).
In some month of some year, around that time, during the day, I think it was sunny outside, the American imperialist army invaded yet again (this time espousing the virtues of TAB... one calorie my ass) and the Secord homestead was persauded to billet (which
then meant 'to serve chocolates to') American imperialist officers. Laura, ever the eavesdropper, became aware of plans for a surprise bukkake attack on the loyalist troops led by the civilized British Rear Admiral James Fitzbigbottom at Shaved Beaver, which would have aroused American imperialist control in the Niagara 'penis shaped land mass'. While her husband, the whiner, was still milking his claimed effects of his injury (oh I can't wash dishes, because of my injury. Oh I can't paint... ad nauseum) and eating away what little profit the family made off Laura's chocolate business, Laura set out to gossip with the civilized Rear Admiral Fitzbigbottom herself, as she was damned if she was going to carry Al's ever increasing ass.
She walked exactly 3 miles before she realised that she forgot her smokes and had to walk back home. She set out again and later told her friends she walked like 50 miles, but it was more like 50 km, even if she took the long way, from present day Queenston up past the Niagara Carpark before arriving at the camp of enlighted allied American-Indian warriors who showed her the way, 'cause damned if they were going to carry her boney white ass, to Fitzbigbottom's headquarters at the Dewey Decimal home. A small civilized British force and a fairly big group of enlighted Blackhawk warriors were then lubricated in eager anticipation of the American imperialist attack which concluded with most of the American imperialist forces bound by feather handcuffs and claimed as POWs, in the, not as funny as I'd like it to be, Battle of the Shaved Beaver.
Cashing In[edit]
Unfortunately for Laura, being a loyal subject willing to risk life, limb and the odd maple truffle for a head of state that was personally chosen by God himself, doesn't pay the bills. In fact, Laura got exactly jack squat from the government, which was about as much as she expected, unlike Canadians of today who expect the government to wipe their bare asses after they defecate.
So Laura decided to sell the shop and sell her chocolates, recipes, and if she could have gotten away with it, her husband too, to highest bidder which turned out to be Corporation 583438978932121. It then cheapened the recipes upped the sugar and salt content and have brought us the Laura Secord branded candy that we've grown to accept with a polite smile, and later spit out in a waste basket.
Later Life[edit]
She pretty much died sometime after, but thankfully before her deadbeat of a husband. She had a few quiet, complaint-free years to reminisce. About the time she took a walk, to save a territory, of a God-chosen autocratic monarch, from the ruthless imperial clutches, of a free and just democratic society.
Comparison to Paul Revere and the Raiders[edit]
Many modern day historians liken Mrs. Secord to the great American patriot group, Paul Revere and the Raiders. Who were famous for fighting off the British Invasion of the 1960s. The problem with that logic being that Revere and The Raiders did not make chocolates nor were they married to a lazy, injury prone husband. Also, Laura had an exceptional singing voice, whereas Paul and his friends could barely mumble, "One if by land, two if by sea" without stuttering.
References in popular culture[edit]
- A 93-second "Canadian Heritage Metric Minute" dramatization of the Laura Secord legend aired on Canadian television during commercial breaks of the Red Green Show. Note: a metric minute is 33 seconds longer than a normal God-fearing American minute.
