Somebody, pass me a tissue, please. :sweat: A work mate just introduced me to the counterpart of Molson’s “I Am Canadian“. WARNING: There are some very vulgar “Quebecois” words, but it’s darn funny! The MP3 can be found here, if you want to laugh.

H-i’m not h-unemployed, h-or smuggling cigarette across da border.
H-i don’t eat Pepsi and May West for Breakfast.
H-i don’t watch da ‘ockey game doing it doggy style.
and non,
H-i don’t know Claude, Manon or Francois of Abitibi Temiscamagne, but h-i sure dey all ‘av nice teeth.
H-i smoke in church.
H-i speak Quebecois and Jouale, not french h-or h-english.
H-i pronounce it turd, not third.
H-and eating french fries with cheese makes sense, mon hostie!
H-i believe in distinct society, h-as long h-as someone else pays for it.
H-i believe in language police, not equal rights!
H-and Calice! I believe Clube Super Sexe is an h-appropriate place for my wife and me to celebrate our h-anniversaire! (What da hell, she goes on at ten anyway!)
H-in Quebec, da Stanley Cup actually comes around more often dan Haley’s Comet.
H-i can get beer at the depanneur, not h-at da convenience store!
H-and maybe I can’t turn right on a red light, but tabranaque! I can go right through it!
Because Quebec is da world’s largest producer of Maple Syrup, da home of Celine Dion -hand Roch Voisine!
Da land where everyone is shacking up h-and the legal drinking age is just a suggestion!
Je m’appelle Guy! H-and H-i H-am not Canadian!
Mon tardditabranaquehostie!