Alright, good morning, hey. Winterpeg. We built a city in the coldest place anyone has any business building a city — and it is genuinely wonderful. Good morning.
Okay, so I was just reading this thing, and I had to stop and re-read it a few times, because my coffee hadn't kicked in yet and I thought maybe I was still dreaming about the North End murals, hey. But nope, this is real. Apparently, these medical chatbots, you know, the AI ones, they're out here confidently telling people to use "rectal garlic insertion for immune support." Rectal. Garlic. Insertion. I mean, I love garlic. Give me a plate of perogies with all the fried onions and garlic you can pile on, and I'm a happy woman. But not like that, hey!
You know, this reminds me of some of the old remedies my *kokum* used to talk about, but even she never suggested anything quite like *that*. We've got some wild stuff happening in our city's art scene, some really out-there performances at the Exchange District galleries, but I don't think even the most avant-garde artist would suggest that for "immune support." It's just... I can't even. You know what, if you want immune support, just walk down Osborne Village on a Saturday night. The sheer energy of the crowds is enough to kickstart your system, hey. Or eat some good Ukrainian food. Not... that. Come on.