Rose's Cantina

Ashley's search party  When Cindy McGean Simpson received the call that her daughter Ashley was missing in Salmon Arm, she immediately contacted the RCMP. It was days after Ashley had disappeared after an ill-fated drinking party at Margaret Falls involving Ashley, her boyfriend Derek, and a friend. The party, by many accounts, had turned into an alcohol-fuelled fight between Ashley and Derek. Ashley had already made the decision to leave Derek and travel back to her home in Niagara-on-the-Lake. She didn't know how she was going to make it back. She was still waiting on a cheque from unemployment, she had no money, and had only texting ability on her Smartphone. But she knew she had to leave. It was clear that the situation had gone south since the pair relocated to Salmon Arm from Pink Mountain in a truck that Derek had borrowed without telling his employer. So this was a last hurrah. After the fight, Derek told police, the pair went back to their trailer where he ...

#108313942 / gettyimages.com Every once and a while, I get out of my comfort zone and navigate the shark-infested waters of the bar scene in downtown Ottawa. This happens roughly every two years when I meet up with one of my former drinking teams. Usually, I default to the team that frequents the Air Force Mess and do some day drinking, after which Scott comes and collects me to ensure I don't pee myself on the bus. Last week, I got together with the second less dangerous team, the one from my former workplace. I like these women because, unlike the geriatric team at the Mess, they are young, hip and lively. Instead of walking on canes, they still manage the high heels. Instead of cardigans, they rock sun dresses. There is one downside to participating in no good antics with the Hell Cats, as I like to call them. Going out with them makes me feel like I'm 90 years old. That's because they choose bars frequented by hipsters and posers, the kind of places that by thre...

    If an Oscar were handed out for best director of the Boston massacre it would not be handed to the terrorists at its epicentre. Nor would it be given to media who lined the streets of Boston and Watertown, presenting us with every morsel of truth or untruth. It wouldn't even be given to first responders who risked life and limb to take down the Brothers Tsarnaev. Nope. If there were an Oscar given for best director, it would be handed to the Internet which influenced absolutely every part of this horrible passion play. It all began with Tamerlan's web flirtation with terror and extremism. The Internet was the place he met and bonded with terror. It was the place he became a home cook, with recipes made from ball bearings and nails, all concocted in a pressure cooker the way Martha Stewart might make a pot roast. Once the horrible pot was stirred, and the bombs dropped, the World Wide Web spread the news of the unthinkable horror...

I am posting this blog from the father of Rehtaeh Parsons, the 17-year-old who took her own life after being drugged, sexually abused and humiliated on social media. This is for all the girls and boys who have been victimized, held up to ridicule and been forced into the unthinkable situation -- suicide. This is also for all the school officials who did nothing. Every day, children take their own lives because they feel they have no option, no hope, no escape from pain. Our family knows the pain of teen suicide. My son's friend Michelle took her own life at 19. We are forever scarred. Please share this with your own children. Talk about it with them. Heed the warnings, get them help, hold them close. There but for the Grace of God... This is a post from the blog of Glen Canning , Rehtaeh Parsons’s father, in response to media inquiries about his daughter’s death. Canning posted this on April 10. My daughter was three years old when we went to watch Babe: Pig in th...

I can't help feeling a little bit of smug satisfaction at the plight of Facebook which is currently getting creamed in its offering to the public. Like most have nots, I'm always delighted to see the mighty fall, the Masters of the Universe take a faceplant in a pile of dung. It's been a hard week for the social networking site which is watching its stock and image go into free fall. Over at Kodak, with the loss of its patent case against Apple, et al, I'm sure they're feeling about the same. The chemical giant is going the way of the do-do bird. And Facebook, once a media darling has become the stinky kid. I don't know a lot about the stock market, but I know a couple of things about people. Some people are arrogant materialistic bastards who buy stocks, then day trade them without any commitment to the company. But most folks still buy into companies because they believe in them. And not many people are believing in Facebook these days. I don't...