zoonarRF / getty images

On behalf of the Royal Canadian Navy, I’m simply thrilled to be visiting Portland, Oregon, for Fleet Week. However, please be advised I have very high expectations for the way Canadian naval personnel are treated while visiting your fair city:

• As a member of the Royal Canadian Navy, I deserve the same respect as my US Navy brethren. I do not appreciate being mocked! Canadians fight and serve our country as well as any American. (It’s true!) And while our sailor caps may resemble berets, they are not! We are not French! Please stop asking us for baguettes, or to paint a picture of a sad clown.

• What’s wrong with berets, anyway? Berets are distinguished, and certainly more attractive than your Navy’s silly “Popeye” hats.

• Speaking of Popeye: No, I do not eat spinach. Nor do I say “ack-ack-ack” when I laugh. And I resent the implication! Besides, we don’t even have Popeye in Canada. We have Drake.

• Speaking of Drake, he’s ours. Your country has plenty of celebrities, and we only have three: Drake, Celine Dion, and Ryan Gosling. Oh, and Avril Lavigne, so make that four. Anyway, hands off Drake.

• And no, we don’t claim Justin Bieber. Stop asking. He’s yours now. Why? Because you treated us like shit.

• Speaking of being treated like shit, I would appreciate the same sexual courtesy you afford American sailors. Canadians are well known for their sexual prowess, and yet apparently you prefer having coitus with our American counterparts. It’s because our caps look like berets, isn’t it?

• Not that you’ve done any research on the subject, but it might interest you to know that Canadians are especially conversant in the art of love. We are polite, meticulously groomed, and always ask for consent—up to 17 times on occasion.

• If you don’t believe me, ask Miriam Bergeron. She lives in Halifax, the provincial capital of Nova Scotia. Miriam wrote the following glowing recommendation that she has allowed me to share with any potential paramour. It reads thusly: “Able Seaman Liam Tremblay, a member of Her Royal Majesty’s Navy, is both a man of honor and a gentleman with no small amount of sexual expertise. He was my first lover, and he shall be my last. Full disclosure: I have terminal cancer.”

• And with that, you are now well versed in the expectations of visiting Royal Canadian Naval personnel! To recap: We’re not French, don’t care for spinach, Drake is ours, Justin Bieber is yours, and if it pleases you, have sexual intercourse with me. Look for me on your waterfront—I’ll be wearing the beret. I mean, the Canadian sailor’s cap! OH, DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!