Thank you for not giving me the same first name as you... and your father... and his father... and, well, you get the idea.

Thank you for whistling all the time.

Thank you for taking an interest in the music I was listening to. In retrospect, your disgust for NWA was just as important as your affection for The Violent Femmes.

Thank you for spanking me a couple of times when I was a little brat. It was thoughtful discipline and not angry revenge, and I learned that my behaviour had reasonable boundaries.

Thank you for teaching me to be comfortable around dogs, and how to train them patiently and humanely.

Thank you for teaching me perspective in dealing with the good and the bad in my life; it's helped me stay positive, optimistic, and get through my tougher times.

Last but not least, thank for you bringing home comic books for me to read whenever I was sick. It was something to look forward to when I was miserable.

Dear Dad:

This year, instead of a card or a gift (or anything else that costs money), I'm writing you an online letter for Father's Day. It's really just a list of thank-yous for all the dad stuff you did for me over the years, some of which I'm only now coming to appreciate.

Thank you for not killing me when I wrecked your beautiful car. I always look now when I'm turning left.

Thank you for driving around looking for me when I was in grade 10 and broke curfew because I was dating a chick in grade 13 who had a van.

Thank you for supporting me when I decided not to get confirmed.

Thank you for encouraging me to task risks, in work and in play.

Thank you for having the patience and control to put an end to the abusive parenting you were taught by your father. This one act will improve the lives of all the generations that follow you.

Thank you for our summer family vacations.

Thank you for being active in sports, and encouraging me to play.

Thank you for telling me the truth about hard topics when I asked. After you gave me the straight goods on sex and Santa Claus, I knew I could talk to you about anything.

Thank you for always buying me the athletic shoes I wanted.

Thank you for paying, and always seeming to have an extra twenty when I was going out with a girl.

Thank you for teaching me how to play so many sports; they contributed a lot of my happiness and confidence.

Thank you for driving me to, picking me up from, and cheering me on at, all of the events in my young life. I didn't know it then, but it really meant a lot of me.

And finally (for now), thank you for trying to teach me how to fish, no matter how futile it seemed.

I love you, and I'll see you soon!

Earlier this year, census figures showed that the population growth rate in Canada had hit an all-time low. In a shocking move, Prime Minister Jean Chretien said that "at this time I think it's very important that our population increase, either naturally or by immigration." He managed to come up with both of those methods all by himself, folks.

Being a great patriot (excusing my late payment to Revenue Canada in tax-year 2000), I feel compelled to help. But let's consider the options carefully. Lord knows how much trouble those damned immigrants can be, now more than ever. I therefore would like to propose that we should be focusing on natural methods of population increase. That's right: more fucky-fuck!
Consider Western society's seemingly tangential increase in the number of SMOPs: Single Mothers On Purpose.
These women are sick of waiting for dad to show up, and either bed down with a friend of good breeding stock, or adopt a nice Chinese baby. In the former case, you have a love-child of a fashion, but the uncle/daddy line might get a bit blurred. In the latter case, you don't get to experience child birth (which may be a pro for some women), but the product gets Purolatored to your door and 6 years later you have your own violin prodigy. At least, I'm pretty sure that's how it works.

Speaking on behalf of men everywhere, I'd like to say that I'm terribly upset by this trend. I'd like to, but I can't. I think it's a great deal that will work out for everybody involved. Guys like the sex stuff, and to finally not have to worry about pregnancy would be... well, a new experience. And considering that I have a mother and grandmother who have given me verbal permission to have children out of wedlock (they're tired of waiting, too) the stars could not be more perfectly aligned.

SO! If you're an aspiring SMOP, let me make my case.

• I'm tall, fit, with low cholesterol despite years of bacon and mayonnaise abuse.
• I scored 165 on an online IQ test and 71% on a 1980's pop culture quiz.
• I have a car. With a backseat.
• I got a three year Computer Science degree in only four years.
• I make a mean candlelight dinner to get you in the mood. And breakfast ain't bad either, but don't feel you have to stick around.

When you are ready to apply for my services, please send me a photograph and peak ovulating times via email. Naturally, you will incur travel and other expenses, but compared to the cost of adoption fees, I can provide much more bang for your buck.
What's that you say? A hero? No, I'm not a hero. I'm just a man. Just a man who'll go to great lengths... ahem... (cough, cough)... for his country.