Licences

Now, nearly everyone has a licence of some sort. Whether it be to drive a motor vehicle, perform surgery, or to kill, these things are rather common. Common as they may be, they do indeed vary, and it stands to reason that as numbers of people increase, numbers of differing licences will in turn go up.
With that being said, one can assume that in a large city such a Toronto, there will be a great number of varying licences; some more obscure than others.
This assumption manifested itself last eve, when I was having a jaunt through one of Toronto's more "lively" neighbourhoods; Sherbourne and Queen. I happened upon a kind woman, whose name I was not able to retrieve from her. However, her name did not stop her from pushing an eloquent conversation into my earhole.
Dressed in a stained Chicago Bulls T-shirt, unbuttoned trousers, and seated slouched in her wheelchair, her eyes floated 'round aimlessly in her head as she begun;

"Hey! HEY! Y-you know I have a licence to asses a pig on a string?"

My interest decidedly piqued I begged her to continue.

She then proceeded to explain to me how she had received this unique licence from "Doctor Astroturf", in Tweed, Ontario.

My word, I thought, I am in the midst of a professionally educated pig assessor! Pushing her for more, she stared blankly at me as if I was not there, and then began screaming about "The Government", and how they were responsible for taking away her feet. I thought that was strange fib, until I looked down to notice that her feet had indeed be amputated. Such I shame I mused; this must surely hinder her ability to assess stringed pigs.
I asked her if she would like me to take-down the Canadian Government in some way. She countered by asking me if I had any beer.
I said no.
Upset, She then asked me if I had any wine, or "fuckin' weed"
Again, I said no.
She then made a guttural sound deep within her throat. There was an odd pause as I waited for her to continue explaining to me how she obtained her licence to asses a pig on a string....It seemed as though she was no longer interested in talking with me, as she had begun making threatening comments about my involvement with "The Government", claiming falsely that I had given oral sex to The Prime Minister.

Ohhh licences,

Mr. Bacon Wagon