Toronto, I Love You


Everyday when I head to work I get to drive by the CN Tower via the Gardiner “Held-Up-By-Popsicle-Sticks-But-Whatever” Expressway.  In the mornings, the Tower looks really impressive – especially when there is like, wicked-cool fog, or a sweet sunrise or something like that.  Every morning, when I drive by and see that iconic, globally-recognizable phallic symbol of Toronto, I feel proud and happy and, you know, like this is the best place in the world.

This week in the morning when I drove by and looked at the tower, I actually felt shitty.  For the first time ever, I thought to myself “Uggggggghhh I’m so embarrassed…”.

Unless you are living in a cave under a rock with your fingers in your ears and and a garbage bag over your head, you know that this was not a great week for Toronto.  The mayor has solicited global attention – attention that highlights the worst of the city and its people.

So – I felt embarrassed.  And I hated myself for feeling embarrassed.  Because this city is fucking awesome. Yes, our mayor is a laughingstock and makes us look bad.  But Jesus on wheels, Toronto fucking rules – DESPITE Rob Ford.

So yesterday I started thinking about this and started listing in my head all the things that makes Toronto great, and it literally started flowing out of me – why I love living here and why I love the people here and the businesses and the art and the parks and the families and the culture… and really, me loving Toronto has nothing to do with the mayor.

Now, I’m not naive… I know that the person in office has the power to make things easier or harder for certain groups of people… but Toronto is going to be Toronto. Sorry. It’ll happen.  Because it’s not really the mayor who defines that shit. It has to do with the amazing people who have taken that shit upon themselves to make their communities bad-ass-awesome.  They are the people who have slowly crystallized their network of buildings and stores and parks into fucking amazing communities.

Yes.  Toronto has its flaws.  The traffic is fucking brutal.  The infrastructure is growing at about half the pace of the population.  We need a good place to have sandwiches in Parkdale.  But still, I love it.

So Toronto, here is a small selection of reasons why I Love You…

  • My friends can work hard and grow their own businesses, be their own boss, do something totally unique and personal, and Toronto will embrace them.
  • There are times when I ride the subway and I don’t hear a single word of English.  We have so many different countries, cultures, and communities represented here, it’s so bad-ass. It makes my heart warm.
  • I can buy fucking amazing Indian food from a family-owned restaurant then walk next door to a hipster bar where they play grunge rap and the waitresses wear bra-tops with embroidered  cats on them then walk next door to that and buy artisan flowers that were grown on some chick’s balcony then walk next door to that and have homemade cocktails with like, bacon in them then walk next door and buy a 100 dollar jar of fucking imported body oil from Iceland or some shit like that then walk outside and buy a cool native necklace off a street vendor.  THAT’S JUST NORMAL ‘ROUND HERE.
  • My house is over 100 years old and was part of Canada’s history.  I’m pretty sure someone cool and important lived there at one point (other than me).
  • You want to get together with like-minded people and do something frekkky-weird and awesome?  Go for it.  Have a nude bike ride/zombie walk/disco bike ride/mob pillow fight. Whateves.
  • People in Toronto care about fucking Toronto. Anytime there is a street changed, a building bought, a tree that gets cut down… PEOPLE GIVE A SHIT.  They may be arguing for different sides, but they will definitely have an opinion.  They are PART of the discussion.
  • We have C-U-L-T-U-R-E.  Art galleries up the wazoo.  You want to see the David Bowie exhibit that is only coming to like 5 cities in the whole world?  YEAH, COME TO TORONTO.  You want to see art? Dinosaur bones?  Some old chamber pot that some important guy took a dump in 200 years ago?  COME TO TORONTO.  You want to see up and coming artists? You want to see international musicians?  Up and coming musicians?  You want to see that guy who juggles chainsaws while eating nails (probably), COME TO TORONTO.
  • In my hood there are recovering meth addicts living next to new families living next to hipster renters living next to elderly people who have had their house since the 60’s.  Just damn humans co-existing.  It’s fucking amazing.

Anyways.  Just felt the need to proclaim my love in the midst of this shit. Toronto, don’t let it get you down. You’re still tops in my books.

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So Close Yet So Far…


This is what today feels like…

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after all the sin we’ve had

Neil Young – Cowgirl In The Sand by thegonedu69

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Lessons in Duckface

Unless you are a 14-year-old girl, or Lana Del Ray, you might not have a real comprehension of duckface yet. 

Basically, it’s when a chick tries to look serious in a photo, but worries that she doesn’t look hot enough, so she does this weird thing with her lips to make her cheekbones jut out and make her lips look gross and puffy.  It’s kind of the watered-down version of blow-job lips. 

Anyways, A-Balls hadn’t heard about duckface yet, and we were trying to explain it to her at dinner, which is actually surprisingly hard when you don’t actually have a photo of someone doing duckface.  This spiraled into a series of duckface attempts, and an insatiable desire to ensure that she mastered the art of duckface.

Here is the progression of our grasshopper as she blossoms into a beautiful adult duckface.

Attempt #1
Instruction: “You have to like, push your lips together and be all serious”
Aidan’s Interpretation: “Depressed girl in the corner.”

Attempt #2
Instruction: “Don’t look sad!  Try to look like you’re all pouty”
Aidan’s Interpretation: “Blowing on the reed of an invisible clarinet”

Attempt #3
Instruction: “Push your lips all far out!  You know, like a stupid 14-year old girl.”
Aidan’s Interpretation: “TEXTBOOK DUCKFACE!!!!”

Please see below for an analysis of Aidan’s duckface:


Truly, she has become a duckface master, surpassing even her teachers’ abilities in duckfacery.

Posted in Drunken Observations, Randomness, Wisdom 5 Comments »

Rage Against the Pink Machine

While we’re here…

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Things I Don’t Need

I often wonder where all my money goes.  

You would think it should go to adult things like dishwasher soap and GICs and shower curtain liners. 

Yeah.  It probably should.

Frye Braided Campus Boots

Rationale to Buy: They don’t make these fuckers any more.  Well, I mean, they make them, but not in this colour, and the braid is really rare.  Also, it’s hard to find my size in vintage Fryes.  Also, the heel is the perfect “adds height but in a super laid-back way” height, and the colour is the perfect “rusty cognac” colour that everyone wants in a brown leather boot.  Also, they’re already all dusty and broken-in.

Rationale to be a Responsible Adult: Do I already own two pairs of Fryes?  Maybe.  Do I already own four pairs of brown knee-high boots?  Maybe.  Should you shut up?  Probably.


Vintage Leather Jacket with Weird Native Mystical Patch

Rationale to Buy:  So, spring is coming, which is perfect “light leather jacket” weather, and you CLEARLY have to have a light-coloured jacket choice in the spring, in case you are wearing something, you know, lighter.  PLUS, I mean, COME ON.  The patch is worth the price of the jacket alone, because it’s so versatile!  I mean, I could theoretically take the patch off this jacket and put it on another jacket.  It’s like two jackets in one.

Rationale to be a Responsible Adult:  It’s possible that I have several leather jackets already.  It’s possible that the prices of those leather jackets have varied from “a steal” to “the price of a small used car”, so compounded, the jackets are probably worth more than I have in my retirement savings plan.  It’s possible that one human being only has so many occasions to wear a leather jacket with a bad-ass fucking weird patch on the back. 

Leather Flats with Embossed Fleur-de-Lys

Rationale to Buy:  Spring is coming and you NEED to have flats to wear when you are walking around the city, going to flower shops and meeting your friends for brunches on patios.  And although you have lots of flats, none of them are that dressy, so say, if you were wearing something a little fancier, you would look stupid with your existing shoe options.  PLUS they are so totally French-looking and when you wear them, you’ll look like Leslie Caron in An American in Paris.

Rationale to be a Responsible Adult: I have three pairs of brown leather oxfords which are essentially the same shoe but with laces.

5-Inch Leopard Print Platform Heels

Rationale to Buy:  They are 75% off.  And I look like an un-gross version of Kim Kardashian in them.  Additionally, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but leopard print is now a neutral that supposedly goes with everything, so I can wear them with SO MUCH STUFF.  Finally, They add five inches to my height, making my frame appear lankier, so my croissant-weight appears more evenly dispersed on my limbs.  IT’S SCIENCE.

Rationale to be a Responsible Adult:  Seeing how I’m not a prostitute or celebrity, WHERE THE FUCK WILL I WEAR THESE?

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Hear Hear

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You Know What?

I don’t care that I’m still sick, or that I’m at work, or that it’s snowing and cold and I don’t have matching gloves so I had to wear a mismatched pair this morning, and one of the VPs saw me in my mismatched gloves, or that the project I’m working on is turning into a big fart cloud, or that I look horrible today and my outfit makes me look like I’m an elephant on safari with bad hair.

Because my J. Crew order arrived.

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There’s nothing in why or when

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Real Fuckin’ Talk

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