This thread is intended for good-natured ribbing in both directions. My Fellow Americans: What amuses you about Canadians? Canadians: What amuses you about us? I suppose the conversation may become serious at some point, but let’s start with foibles.
Since the Great Milk Kerfluffle of last year, it amuses me to see Canadians with two dozen gallons of milk in their shopping carts.
I went to school in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and college kids used to take off on the weekend, and drive across the Ambassador bridge to Windsor so they could drink legally. I was never a a big drinker myself, but I always found that amusing.
Also I broke my toe in a hot tub on a 4th grade trip to Toronto. Thanks, Toronto.
I remember that certain stores in Michigan accepted Canadian money, at least when I was a kid. Quarters were basically interchangeable. I thought that was normal until I travelled to other states in the U.S. Michigan’s practically Canada anyway, eh?
D18 - I agree on New Yorkers. I really like New Yorkers, as a general rule.
When I was going into Canada as a kid, the customs lady asked me what country I was from, and I said ‘‘America.’’ She gave me a withering look. So I said, ‘‘North America.’’ I looked to be much older than I actually was so she thought I was being a smart-ass.
Is that where the other half goes? I’ve always wondered, since I figured they can’t ALL be in South Florida for the winter.
*some of my best friends are Canadian. I’m happy to have them here. Just not the traffic, at times.
I doubt it. They are probably just rounding up resources before they do a sneak attack en masse (remember the time when they burned down the White House?).
I always say that Canadians are the greatest security threat to the U.S. bar none. They look and act almost exactly like regular people and they blend in extremely well. You could have a group of Canadian spies hiding in plain sight right next to you and you wouldn’t ever know unless they slip up and made some weird reference that a normal person would never make. They try to lull us into a false sense of complacency and solidarity until hello, there goes D.C. again. Wait, I think I see one walking down the street right now. I will be right back.
Your money, as my 15 year old daughter pointed out to me today, could be counterfeited by anyone with a photocopier, or perhaps a green pencil crayon, and it really is the most boring money on the planet.
You’re not all fat, loud and obnoxious, but it is listed as a prerequisite on your passport application.