Chak Can Cook

The sun was blistering and high in the South Asian sky, when Jhinuk Veeravaghu first met her husband at her arranged wedding back in 1998. Her first sight of Chakradhar was in his off-white kurta made of fine silk, and his delicate smile shone like a bronzed Shiva statue glistening after a morning dew. His jet black hair, cold dead eyes and muscular hairless arms were almost overwhelming for Jhinuk, who instantly fell in love with this successful surgeon and courageous deity, along with his ideals of raising a family on the great continent of North America.

Unfortunately for the whole family, Chakradhar's medical degree is meaningless in Canada. Being the resourceful scholar he is though, Chak has become a different sort of surgeon in his new home - although he is not officially a "doctor", his work grilling hamburgers and spreading condiments has enabled him to provide Jhinuk and their three sons a gorgeous basement apartment very close to the local community college.

Thrash Stache

Eric "Wobbles" Granston has been dealing with disappointment since 1982. Not only was this the first year he was forced into repeating the fifth grade, but it was also when Cliff Burton replaced Ron McGovney as the lead bassist in Metallica. Wobbles turned to smoking marijuana when he first learned of the untimely death of Burton in 1986; and by the time Jason Newsted had won his turn as Metallica's bassist, Wobbles was a 15 year old high-schooler who was experimenting with LSD and mutilating animal corpses. Fast forward to 2008 and we can find a dramatically aged Eric (who no longer uses his alias) living in his grandmothers basement and showing the wear and tear of a life lived in the fast lane. He found God while in prison for a short stint in 2002, and ironically enough lost his anal virginity to Bleed For Me by Black Label Society - with whom Metallica's latest bassist, Robert Trujillo, was playing at the time.

Many thanks to Brandy for her brilliant and brazen photograph, taken at Heavy MTL.

Commitment To Family

It is always wise to get in a quick couple of hours with the in-laws to appease the wife, as God knows Larry won't be satisfying her in any other way. As long as he is able to keep her at bay until his 12:04pm tee off time, Larry here is happy to help himself to a tray of quiche, three croissants and a half dozen cups of coffee. While desperately trying to appear interested in what his half-dead father-in-law is droning on about, in actuality Larry is dreaming of blasting balls down the fairway and flirting with beer cart girls on the course. Hawaiian golf shirt? Check. Short khaki shorts? Check. Heightened sense of self-importance based on a membership at a shitty private club? Absolutely.

Gloomy Gus

With a strong penchant for underage prostitutes and crystal meth, Gus figured that after a 62 hour binge of taking advantage of each one of his demons he should attempt repentance. Wearing the same outfit as he was when he first ventured out of his brother-in-laws' basement, Gus is well aware that the other churchgoing Christians of Caretta, West Virginia can smell the failure spewing from his pores. After ten minutes of sitting through a pedophile preaching about how terrible everyone else is, Gus realizes that he's starting to come down hard and he should probably get back to the fourteen-year-old escort he left rotting in the bathtub.

Jesus, James

Barely being able to support himself using the church pews as his walker, James here is not impressed with being summoned to attend a confirmation for his youngest nephew. Always an enabling and caring wife, Diane was able to coax him to this blessed event with a couple of "special" coffees and the promise of a few more this afternoon while he watches golf. As James works his way through his hangover, we have caught him in what is becoming a fairly common occurrence, where he gives each family member a piece of his mind by telling them exactly how he feels about them. Luckily for James, he is quickly being blacklisted by friends and family alike, and will die with only his wife and a bottle of Johnnie Walker by his side.

Why David, Why?

A question that has plagued Duster Hunters for the ages is the one that begs "why not just shave your whole fucking face?" David here spent last night sleeping on a park bench, using only the newspaper under his arm as his protection from the elements. For obvious reasons, David did not have an opportunity to properly groom himself before making his way to the LCBO as the doors opened to another glorious Tuesday. Back to our original pondering though; it is apparent that David spent at least one evening last week at the Salvation Army. They clearly had facilities for grooming. He chose however to only shave his neck, cheeks and chin, leaving the tickler up top. Perhaps it's for straining the shot of Ontario white wine he's about to enjoy. Maybe it's to impress the homeless women in his shanty town. The mystery continues, and I'm not sure we'll ever know...

Pasquale's Shoe Repair

An outcast from a very early age, Pasquale had a passion for beautiful things. The grandson of a successful immigrant construction worker, and the son of a pizza parlour owner, Pasquale spent hours staring at and sniffing the shoes of his classmates. After dropping out of school in the sixth grade, Pasquale followed his foot fetish straight to prison for a brief stint - but after his release in 1982 he decided to use his love of shoes to better serve the public. Now the co-owner of a successful shoe repair shop in the local mall, Pasquale has finally earned the respect of his family and shaken the stigma of being a filthy shoe sniffer.

Macy's Moustache

Thirty six years of selling quality auto parts to the major American car manufacturers, and what thanks does John Crayton get? A swift kick in the ass when his employer kicks him to the curb in their efforts to "cut costs". Not one to feel sorry for himself, John dusts himself off and is keen on supporting his loyal family by quickly securing an Assistant Managerial position at the local Macy's Department Store. Although his new position is at many times thankless, there are certain perks, too - 40% employee discounts, two weeks of paid vacation, and being able to fire that snot-nosed little fucker with the god damned metal in his face.

Luckily for John, Macy's doesn't have the same facial hair restrictions as the New York Yankees.

Saddle Up, Partner

Yee Haw! Thurman here just polished up the old Tony Lama alligator-skinned boots and threw on his ostrich suede overcoat for a trip back home to Austin. Three days up in Canada have left him feeling cold and dejected. Thurman longs for his ranch, where he is free to ride horses around his hundreds of Texas acres, and shoot whatever animal decides to set foot on his property. Back in the late '90's, a couple of neighbour boys made the terrible decision of playing "Hide and Seek" on Thurman's land - one is now confined to a wheelchair, and the other one has not been seen or heard from since.

Subway Sri

After an exhausting overnight shift at the local peanut distribution factory, there isn't much else Bandula Towraghondi wants in this world, asides from a hot cup of tea with a sprinkling of doda stirred in. Two subways, two buses and a fifteen minute walk from his house, you can sense the anticipation in Bandula as he clasps his hands together firmly. Remember this name, because years from now you will read about Bandula; when he decides to murder each one of his eight family members sharing the three bedroom home he lives in, then takes his own life. True story.

London Bobby

Toiling diligently, as I am wont to do (on rare occasions), my colleagues made me aware of a moustache of epic proportions passing by our booth at the PGA Show in Orlando. I hustled to get out in front of the gentleman sporting the duster and attempted to covertly take a photograph using my cell phone. Soon thereafter, I realized that it was going to be impossible to get a photo of decent quality without being made. At that point, I had but only one recourse - I had to stop him and ask him to take his picture. I know, radical thinking - the spirit of USSS is to capture these beasts in their natural habitat unbeknownst to their owners. It was either come clean or risk not getting a photo - one look at the moustache and it's obvious that I had no choice. I could not run the risk of missing the opportunity to capture this Bobby stache on film. So I interrupted him, explained the spirit of USSS and given his massive stache pride, he now felt that he had no choice but to graciously allow me to take his photo.

Thanks to Duster M. Hunter, MBA for his captivating story and photograph.

Sunday Brunch

It's a tradition that's older than even his leather jacket. Family joining together and embracing one another's company as their busy weeks and weekends are coming to a close. Many different races and classes of people have their own forms of brunch, but this ritual has deep Caucasian roots. Upper-class Cakers will enjoy quiche and fresh fruits, as well as a selection of hot teas, coffees, fruit juice and Mimosa's. Then of course, there are the "class-impaired" - where the gentleman pictured above fits in. His family spends Sundee down in the Big City (still considered cottage country in most people's minds - think Barrie, Ontario). The menu of choice after loading the kids in the pickup to head down? How 'bout the Ham Omelet Sandwich, Sausage Biscuit, Hash Browns and French Toast Stick?

Stereotypical dirtbag redneck hick. No offense.

Ernie & Fran Plus 15

Ahh, the Deep South. Could Wal-Mart ask for a better spokesperson? Ernie's trailer is one of the better-kept ones, considering he has lived there since 1962. His wife of 48 years takes care of her three children, eight grandchildren, and the four new bundles of joy that have made Ernie a Great Grandpa. Six loafs of bread and a case of soda will definitely tide everyone over for the next week, as Ernie has just spent his entire Disability check in one fell swoop. It's a shame his fucking degenerate, meth-addicted daughters can't seem to make a dime prostituting themselves...

Although a rare sighting in the North East, Ernie's voluptuous mane of a walrus duster is commonplace in the Dirty South.

Tennessee Terry

If Danny McBride, Matt Walsh, and Paul Teutul Sr. were to somehow combine their DNA and fertilize the egg of an aged, overweight redneck with their man yogurt, the world would be blessed with the gentleman pictured above. Allegedly uninterested in his appearance or how the world views him, this stereotypical hillbilly fits nearly all of the conventions related to handlebar-wearing hicks across these United States. His NASCAR hat and Wal-Mart undershirt (worn as a sweatshirt) are laughable to say the least, but ignorance is what defines a true redneck - and with lunch options ranging from Arabic to Vietnamese and everything in between, our friend Terry has opted for the BK Triple Combo from Burger King. Way to stay true to your heritage, friend.

Frozen In Time

In 1983, before Marty McFly and Dr. Emmett Brown were close friends, Jamie Armstrong got his hands on Dr. Brown's DeLorean and made himself a prototype. Jamie wasn't able to get his hands on any plutonium for the nuclear reactor though, because of the fact that the Libyan terrorists were after Dr. Brown and were the only source for plutonium at that time. After a couple of years of development and finally obtaining some plutonium, Jamie was able to blast into 2009 where he was able to meet his now 29 year old daughter! In a strange twist of fate, after this photo was taken Jamie was arrested for sexually assaulting his daughter in the washroom.