Basically, unless someone can come up with one tangible benefit, the summit will end up being a huge middle finger to Toronto as well as the taxpayers of Canada. Nebulous statements of “benefits to the city” made by officials are not very convincing. Like, what benefits, exactly?

Well, there is one that I can think of, and it applies to only a very small group of Torontonians. Like myself. :)

I’m talking about the global media coverage that the G20 will invariably get. It’ll do nothing for local businesses, and I’m fairly certain most Canadian tax payers don’t give a flying fuck if the summit makes headlines in Brazil. But for anyone in the media, stories like this are akin to a sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top, especially if shit really does go down and the protests start to get violent. For insignificant bloggers who happen to live near the turmoil, that’s especially true.

As crass as that may sound, it’s the truth. Tragedies, disasters, protest movements – they’re all headline fodder extraordinaire.

Take the recent seizing of Palestinian aid ships by the Israeli army, for example. Israel, Palestine, and the ships may all be half a world away, but thanks to Toronto’s Palestinian population the story came right to my front door. And thanks to an unfortunate series of events that resulted in the pro-Palestine demonstration yesterday, the topic can happily fly under the Toronto City Life flag.

In my privileged position as a blogger I can dispense with any pretense of journalistic impartiality (whatever that is). I’m not anti-Israeli, at least not the citizens, as certain shrill extremist Zionists might suggest; it’s just painfully obvious that the Palestinians are the ones getting shafted. I’m simply in favour of the Palestinians getting a fair shake.

If it wasn’t for tragic events and resulting Torontonian rallies, I might not get the opportunity to talk about these things. And talking about they need because it seems like some painfully obvious facts are being ignored.

Here’s the thing: I’m quite aware of the history of this conflict. I know that Palestinian factions share just as much of the blame for this mess as the Israeli security apparatus. Israel has every right to defend itself as does Palestine.

The whole conflict has been one story of retaliatory action after another. The most recent major example being Palestine’s shelling of Israeli towns within their own borders, and Israel’s resulting incursion in Palestine. In terms of violence, neither side is guiltless, this latest action included. However, there are a number of factors which put Israel clearly in the wrong.

The Israeli defense for going into Gaza has long been, well, defense; that the strip was used by Hamas and other organizations to launch attacks against Israel and so it needed to be secured. The army needed a barrier between the terrorists and Israeli civilians, in other words. Up until that point, even though Palestinian deaths were absolutely atrocious and completely unbalanced, I kinda had to side with Israel. Even to this day Israel is under attack from external forces so going outside the country in order to defend it seems reasonable. Not the way the Israelis carry out these missions, mind you, but the underlying justification seemed to make sense.

But then they started to settle Gaza and that entire argument went right out the window.

The moment Israel started to occupy lands that were not their own, and by doing so moving their own citizens right back into the line of fire, it demonstrated that the Israeli state wasn’t really interested in defense at all. They didn’t want to simply “exist” in peace in the region as they claimed, they didn’t really even care about protecting their own citizens — they’re an imperialist nation with the capabilities, support, and willingness to invade other countries. Palestine, being poor and disorganized, makes a perfect first target. Iran, it has been publicly stated many times, is next.

It’s important, though, to draw clear distinctions between the state of Israel, it’s people, and Jews. The three, although related through history, really don’t have much to do with each other. The state of Israel is the culprit – it has the power, means, and allies to carry out their ambitions. The Israeli people, I suspect, would likely happily give up this notion if they could live in genuine peace. I bet the people living on occupied lands aren’t living a carefree lifestyle. If Israel was a Jewish (religious), state then it’s frightfully fucked in the eyes of God – they’ve broken so many of God’s commandments now that simply calling themselves Jewish would be blasphemous. And while the state of Israel moves as a unified force, insisting that Jews worldwide control most western media means that they’re doing an awful job covering up the misdeeds of the Israeli government.

I don’t buy it as much as I don’t buy the wholesale branding of Palestine as a terrorist state. Which is another major problem in this struggle. While Israel’s flouting of Geneva conventions is somehow legitimized or simply shrugged off (white phosphorous weapons, illegal occupation, etc.) — I guess because the army has fancy uniforms and the U.S.’s cock buried in its ass — Palestinians’ use of guerrilla tactics is apparently pure evil and absolutely reprehensible. Like they have any other choice.

The Canadian and U.S. governments insist that Palestine lay down its arms and surrender to Israeli-U.S. rule before there’s even a hint of discussion. Palestinians, who can barely get food sometimes, are supposed to have a unified fighting force according to the selective Geneva rules that the U.S. and Canada like to pull out, who should all wear fancy new uniforms. No, seriously — apparently without that they’re not a legitimate army. And while they’re at it, they really should be lining up in fields in nice formations, ready to be shot at (exactly like the Israelis do). Without these qualities they’re simply terrorists and hence no negotiations.

The latest bit of nonsense coming from Israel in response to their invasion of the Palestinian flotilla, on it’s way to Palestine, in international waters, is just as absurd. The Israelis claim they had to shoot some people on the ships because they were brandishing weapons. Like knives, and crowbars, and wooden boards. I mean, if that’s good enough justification to unlawfully enter someone’s sovereign space and kill them then … you know, I’m not even going to justify that stupidity by elaborating.

Not only are the Israelis waging an assault on basic human rights along with their circle-jerk U.S. brethren, basically posturing about as nothing more than international thugs with big guns, they’re also directly assaulting our own intelligence. It’s nothing short of calling us all imbeciles for thinking that we’d buy their obvious bullshit.

What the hell gave them the right to board any ship in international waters in the first place?

Israel wants us to believe that killing hundreds of people, in their own country, in response to a few Israeli deaths is justified. What Israel is stating, quite clearly, is that a Palestinian life is worth considerably less than an Israeli life.

As it is, it’s in America’s best interest to keep the conflict going. And no, the U.S., just like Canada, has no interest in humanitarianism or helping out the underdog. We’re there to look out for our own interests, period. Afghanistan was a strategic location for the Russians when they invaded in the eighties; the U.S. fought them because it was the Cold War and the Russians were trying to grab new territory. America never gave a shit about Afghans. They wouldn’t have given a shit about Kuwait being invaded by Iraq either except that Kuwait’s run by people who play ball with the U.S. and, surprise surprise, the country has huge oils reserves.

The U.S. defended Kuwait’s oil fields under Bush senior while the slaughter of Kurds took place in northern Iraq. The only reason America gave for going there in the first place was to defend the Kurds. Mission accomplished! The reason the U.S. invaded Afghanistan this time around was to find and destroy Al Qaeda. Mission accomplished! The reason the U.S. invaded Iraq was to find and destroy weapons of mass destruction. Mission accomplished! The reason the U.S. gave for going into Vietnam was to stop the spread of Communism. Mission accomplished!

Bush junior’s legacy will be the stripping away of basic human rights, promoting violent knee-jerk reactions based on wisdom like “we’re gonna smoke ‘em out, huhuh”, legalizing torture and kidnapping, allowing unwarranted wire-taps, unprecedented invasion of personal rights (been to the airport lately?), and so on. Thank goodness U.S. citizens aren’t living under some oppressive foreign regime, eh? Mission accomplished!!

Look, Saddam Hussein wasn’t exactly leader of the year but if Iraq didn’t have a bunch of oil he’d still be in power. I can’t imagine how naive you’d have to be to think otherwise, especially considering the amount of evidence and the ever-unfolding web of lies and deceits put into place by George and his face-shooting cronies. It’s why Saddam’s forces set all the oil fields on fire as they retreated, and it’s exactly why the U.S. hasn’t gotten involved in actually helping people in places like Congo, Rwanda, Bosnia, etc. There are plenty of awful conflicts happening around the globe right now – how come neither the U.S. not Canada are there? (The U.N. doesn’t count. In any way.)

The answer is simple: there’s nothing there that America or Canada can use. It’s true that Palestinian fighters are calling for the destruction of Israel, and I can’t defend that. It won’t solve the situation (has it solved anything so far?), and will accomplish exactly nothing. Worse, in fact. But at least Hamas is honest about it, something our own government is highly allergic to.

—

Here are some clumsily strung-together videos of yesterday’s demonstration. The procession of about 1,500 people (including a good number of Jews and Israelis), went from the Israeli consulate at 180 Bloor Street West, down Queen’s Park, along College, and down Yonge where the march terminated at Yonge-Dundas Square where Naomi Klein concluded the protest with a speech.

Apologies for the crapiness on this last video; it’s a combination of amateur videography and inexperienced editing. I’ll get better, I promise!

Share / save this post

I was planning to do a post about urban public gardens. I know, it seems a little bent at the wrist, but I wanted to do it more in the context of the unforgiving city. Those little squares of land nestled in between caverns of glass. Had a great story ‘n everything. Then this happens:

I know it’s not war-torn Bosnia, but still, you don’t get many brick walls coming down in such a prominent location, in the middle of the day. Extremely convenient for me, if I may be frank. So I believe this proves my point. Unless someone’s suggesting I brought the wall down just to prove a point. :|

Anyhow, can I get a little personal here? I felt totally legit today – schedule ‘n all. I weaved in and out of the news crowd like it was nothing, had conversations with a few of them. Also witnessed a Ryerson student being turned back at the yellow tape. One of the camera guys joked with me with a “nice try, eh? You’re not from Ryerson, are you?” To which I replied, “Hell no.” Reply, *nod*.

That’s how it’s done. No one stopped me when I ducked under the yellow tape. Or stood on the wall. Or the electrical box. QED.

I probably don’t need to tell you what happened if you listen to local news. But if you don’t, it’s pretty straightforward. This wall came down on a street just north of Yonge-Dundas Square, so good foot traffic. Plus it’s the edge of Ryerson University. Some time early this afternoon, it slumped. And then came down. No one was hurt, so very lucky.

See? Simple. Probably the sign attached to the front from what I heard.

I had dinner at the place next door a few weeks back and I don’t recall the building bulging any. Also didn’t notice anything every other day I walked past there either. I use that corner a lot, is what I’m getting at, and can’t say I saw anything untoward.

I really don’t expect that area to open for at least a few days. It took emergency crews most of the afternoon to go through the place, one after each other. No fire. No casualties. It was kind of like an exercise – done in a nice, orderly fashion. By the book.

Convenient for everyone concerned. Except maybe the restaurant owner. And Friday afternoon traffic up Yonge Street. (Ouch.)

Oh, and check this out — I got to experience my first media swarming. It was around a gentleman (I’ll add his name later if I find it), who claimed to be the last one out of the building as it was coming down. I call him “the survivor”.

Here’s how it the situation goes down, for if you’re ever caught in one:

1. Someone’s willing to talk!
2. They smell blood.
3. Okay, jeez! Just take it easy!
4. Ugh! Muscled out by a girl!

Now for a nice convenient weekend. Ahh. :)

Share / save this post

I was watching Breakfast Television this morning to see if Dina Pugliese would entice me into a passionate new day (and for the weather report). She didn’t; she’s just so dry (and it’s supposed to start raining tomorrow).  The over-boiled supposed-to-be-soft-boiled egg was digesting in my stomach, as was the thick, crunchy, crusty hunk of Vienna Rye (I buy it for a reason!) I was up early again and was feeling the need to get inspired. Portfolio’s a waitin’

Dina obviously wouldn’t do it for me so I decided to kill a few birds with one stone: head outside for a walk, get some inspiration, and take a few photos of it. I firmly believe that to solve a problem it’s best to walk away from it; just the excuse I needed.

My first thought when I hit Yonge-Dundas Square was to make the portfolio like a building. Each floor would house a project I’d worked on that you could fly into via the magic of Adobe Flash. The Woo building (I’m sure it has another name — but is it as catchy?), seemed like a suitable candidate. Lots of windows and spinny, twirly, moving things. Plus, I remember the Woo website being somewhat slick – the location must’ve worked for them.

Except that it’s been done, like, a million and one times already.  Every agency and creative somethingorother showcase their loft, or their building, or some nearby space on their web pages.

Okay, how about something like a construction site then?

I could have the shovels, umm, shoveling content. And the dump trucks … dumping … stuff. Hmmm.

That idea had two unfortunate connotations. First, the connection between trucks, dumping, and the intertubes. Not sure if that’s the image I want to give off. Second, this thing:

Ultra-cheese since it first appeared in a Netscape window. I haven’t used Netscape since I don’t even know when.

So that pretty much put an end to the construction idea.

For some reason, fire trucks were racing along Yonge Street the whole morning. I didn’t see a single emergency (no smoke or stretchers), but they did spark off an idea.

Maybe I’d been over thinking it. Maybe I could just use one complex, rotating, 3D object in the middle of a pristine white web page. The object could be something like a fire truck, the Swiss Army knife of vehicles. Or a Swiss Army knife. I imagined it would be kind fun to poke and prod this thing on screen, having each prodable doohickey act as an activator to some portfolio piece that would pop up beside it.

Of course, I’d have to model the thing in 3D. That’d be the only way of ensuring each of the pieces were able to move separately. Sadly, my 3D modelling skills are laughable. I could whip you up a cube in about five minutes, subdivide that sucker into a diamond in about half an hour. A truck? Probably not in this lifetime. A truck that moves? Well that’s a silly question.

Too concrete. I’d probably do better thinking more abstractly. Instead of trying to envision the page, I decided to try juggling a few words around. “Reliable.” “Innovative”. “Classical”. “Modern”.

Tossing contradictory words up in the air was very unsatisfying. Classical yet modern. What kind of bullshit services was I peddling here?

Plus, I was already supposed to have been home twenty minutes ago. To start working on my portfolio! I was sure I’d have something at that point, but nada. I mean, whaddya do in a situation like that?

Neat. And there it was. It was an effect I was looking for. Forget representing anything, it just will be.

Well, I didn’t lollygag about after that, to be sure. I hustled home and started coding. Stopped some time after 10 p.m. Solid. Late post, but I managed to bring it all home in the end. I think, that’s what matters. Tomorrow development continues and I dredge up the dusty Old Projects folders, screen-grabs of various web projects I’d worked on, printed using the most expensive type of ink / paper my current employer had. Strangely, some of the projects now exist solely on paper. Ironical.

I sometimes get the funny feeling that one day my particular skills will come to absolutely naught when society crumbles and everyone’s left to fend for themselves. Right back to the Dark Ages. A zombie invasion, for example. That’s why I took the precaution of learning how to wield a garden hoe as a weapon (I would imagine the city hoe is considerably more difficult). Also how to garden. I’ll be feasting on fresh veggies while the rest ‘a them are eating ‘coons and squirrels. Hole up in a church until winter, kill frozen zombies for fun until the thaw comes; that’s a plan I can stand behind.

The portfolio is my plan B, just in case that doesn’t happen. Just in case.

Share / save this post

I took him to the nearby corner of Yonge-Dundas Square and I showed him a few things.

“You see, sucker”, I thought to myself. “There’s enough ambient light on the sidewalk”, now out-loud, “to illuminate subjects from the front. They’re kind of shadowy, but I think that’s kinda cool. All thanks to this iContrast thingie.”

“Ah!”, he marvelled. “What camera is this? I have an EOS Rebel XSi at home. Is that a Rebel too?”

“No”, I replied, “it’s a … umm …”. I’d forgotten the name. Flipped it over. “Oh, yeah, a Powershot … SX 10 … IS. Fixed lens (can’t stick another lens on there) … but what a lens!”

I went on to extole the virtues of the camera and its lens while flipping through the other photos.

“So, it has all the same software?”

What an odd question.

“I dunno. I guess so. I just know that I can manually control everything – seems pretty complete anyhow”, I explained. I can see the virtue of being able to focus by grabbing the lens and twisting, but the jog wheel isn’t a bad second option. That, I explained slowly as we stood in the brilliant golden sunshine, is the only regret. By the way, brilliant golden sunshine; you know what that means? I was outside before 8:30! Hoe lee crap.

Haha! All-you-can-eat yucky sushi. Who wants that? Man, they really should think of a new name.

At this point, the astute reader who may frequent the areas herein pictured would point out that the sun is actually shining from the west. My diversionary tactic with the funny sign will have failed. “Golden sunshine of the morning my ass!”, they may say. And right they would be to do so.

The images were actually taken later in the day. My second outing. So far in my listless bobbing on the ocean of unemployment, I’ve gotten into the habit of going out at least twice a day. Twice at the nice times. I don’t know if this is a habit I should be getting used to. You know, what if I end up back doing the same mind-numbing labour? Having now tasted the nectar of sweet freedom with its restful nights, that’d make that pill extra hard to swallow.

Should I be getting my hopes up?

Oh wow. That guy totally reminds me of me. Leering. (Good word suggested by a friend’s wife upon sighting my mug shot in the about section. — Thanks, J.) Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe angry. Look at those smug dipsticks in the back. I dunno who they are, but I’m sure I already do, and I don’t like ‘em one bit.

And, just like the narrative, the older man had disappeared at this point, presumably to go flip through his Rebel’s manual. I think his point-and-click days are over. Fight: won.

I let the adrenaline subside, jiggled my neck muscles loose, and breathed deep. Ah yeah, that was one fine beat-down. Old bugger didn’t even know what hit him. I wasn’t feigning ignorance, I really don’t know if the software is the same or whatever. I just know my own camera and happen to know it enjoys the sunshine. God, hadn’t I just gone through this with someone else recently?

Guess I’m gonna have to edumacate them all one at a time.

Share / save this post

I say technical because if you look at the archives, TCL only goes back to January. But it’s really been online since November of last year.

Luckily the WayBack Machine has, as yet, no record of it.

At that time TCL had a mostly-black theme with content that induced hemorrhaging from the eyeballs and projectile vomiting. Pretty awful stuff. Back then I didn’t have the experience or the sphincteric relaxation to do anything interesting, really. Had anyone suggested I run a shocking exposé on what really happens at the annual Santa Claus Parade, I would’ve balked!

But in mid-November I attended Illuminite, the annual Christmas lighting of Yonge-Dundas Square. It was a cold and rainy November night, but the show went on anyway. Try as I might, I wasn’t able to muscle my way up to the front of the crowd, and it was in that soggy moment of inspiration that I remembered it was Toronto City Life. Most of these people were alive, so they qualified. I was getting all bent out of shape for nothing!

That epiphany, and the attitudinal adjustment that came with it, carried me through all the way around to this year’s event. Good thing too because there were a lot more people this time around:

Most of the show, consisting of fire, sparks, trampolines, and dancing, took place at the far end of the square. There was a lot of loud music that, more often than not, descended into a raucous noise that in no way said season’s greetings to me. Eventually, the same spooky music I remember from last year came on as the fire dancers wound their way across the square toward the stage I’d plunked myself behind:

The dancers paraded around on stage in wintry white and silver, twirling fiery objects and having pyrotechnics go off behind them as if to say, “here’s the last blast of warmth you’re getting for the next six months”:

The audience were close enough that one slip and the girl in the red hood got a face full of fire. Now if that’s not a reason to go see something live, I don’t know what is. The fireworks were pretty scary too:

Behind the dancers was the reason for the whole display, the tree.

Nostalgia aside, I want to go on record as saying it’s great that the city doesn’t use a live tree. But what they chose instead is … not quite there yet.

I mean, obviously they were going for a theme because someone went to the bother of creating some Christmas light bears. But while nice, they and the tree seem more appropriate on someone’s 80s-themed holiday lawn than in the Square.

I also remember these things not quite making it to Christmas last year before a chunk of the lights had been broken, stolen, or had burned out. They’re a great photo-op and ideal swine flu vector, but unfortunately they don’t last:

Don’t get me wrong, Illuminite will always hold a special place in my heart because of the sopping awakening it gave me. In a way, it lived up to its name. But with the number of people packed into the square this year, I think they’ll need to come up with something a little less centralized; performances in small pockets all over the square, that kind of thing. And do something about that tree while they’re at it. Next to the longest street in the world, it doesn’t look very impressive.

I’ll do the official whoop-up for TCL in January, but I’m still happy I managed to last a year. And wouldn’t you know it, someone completed the loop on Saturday night by asking me if I was a journalist. I’ve now been asked that same question in every season. The circle of life is complete. Hakuna matata!

Share / save this post

Hahaha! *wipe tear* Oh man, you made my morning today. Thank you.

So I take it you fell off the side of one of the escalators in the enclosed photograph, correct?

Look, I don’t think actions such as these should be punishable by death, so I hope you get better. But seriously? Trying to ride the handrail? Here?

I’ve done my fair share regrettable things while inebriated. That was it, right? You were drunk? I get it. I’m always a little more invincible than I really am; I don’t think as well as I should; that’s what alcohol does. But I’ve never once thought that a two or three storey, head-first plunge onto a slab of concrete would be the thing to do. And I don’t know how you could’ve overlooked the height. You probably don’t remember, so have a look at the photograph again. Besides the great visibility, you probably got a good sense of the layout on your way up, no?

Well, listen. If you’re reading this, that’s good news! Stick with the physio and you should regain almost full control over the drooly side of your face. I know your situation sucks, but to be honest, I’m glad it wasn’t me. Then again, at 27, that wasn’t me. When you can dictate or write again, please send me a reply to describe your thought process at the time. I would be most interested.

With ancticipation,
Patrick

—

Dear Ms. Mohamud,

Okay, so let me see if I’ve got the story straight.

You went to Kenya to visit a relative. Had a good couple of weeks; nice place.

So then you went to leave and the people at the Kenyan airport said you didn’t look like your passport. Something about your lips being different? I had a look for myself, as you can see in the enclosed photo, and the passport photo probably bears the greatest resemblance to you out of all your identification.

So if I have it correct so far, they held you in detention (basically jail) while they contacted Canadian officials to verify your passport. Apparently all of the other government-issued identification cards you surrendered (among other things), were also supposed to have been forged or stolen, or something like that. I bet you were thinking the Canadian government would sort it all out for you, huh? After all, you are clearly who you say you are.

If were in your shoes, I would have shat a house when I learned that Canada then cancelled my passport as a verified fake. Are you as curious as I am to know how they came up with that? A government-backed inquiry wouldn’t be a bad idea. I mean, it will take a decade, but might as well start that mossy stone rolling, no?

Okay, so no documents. Honestly, asking to be fingerprinted was really smart. I don’t remember the feds taking my fingerprints when I came to Canada as a kid, but I guess they do. It would seem obvious that as an immigrant, they’d have your prints on file too.

But they didn’t.

Now, I completely understand why they would destroy your prints after doing a background check since, apparently, that’s all they’re supposed to be used for. Sensible, but obviously not of much help to you.

What I don’t get is why they kept you dangling for two weeks refusing to take them, then waiting two more while dithering whether or not to do so, then finally doing so, then two more weeks while they checked back home, and only then discovering that they don’t keep them on file.

Three months of Canada Border Services sitting on their thumbs. I can see how mistakes could be made, but this … how did you not freak out?

I know you haven’t decided whether or not to sue the government, but I want you to know you’ll have my full support if you do. The rolling of heads also gets my vote.

Sincerely,
Patrick

—

Dear busker at Dundas Station,

Thanks for letting me take your picture. Your music was like a Siren song. A jazzy Siren song. Minus the Siren. I don’t know how you managed to permeate the whole station, but it was just magical.

I hope you come back again soon.

With admiration,
Patrick

Share / save this post

It’s not that I think Mondays are bad, per se. They’ve simply been relegated to being the first days to shatter happiness and joy, to be the harbingers of pain and sorrow. And so on.

The gosh-durn WordPress update never seems to go smoothly (it’s always one plugin after another, isn’t it?) and, well, the weekend was so interesting, I almost forgot that the War still lurked just around the corner — with a bat and a belief I owed it some money.

Sadly, our own local detention center has now moved off-court onto (I believe) wood-chip-covered earth:

Can you believe that it’s been almost a month now?

But luckily there’s a curious twist at this point, otherwise I’d just be regurgitating the same old war stories again. That’s gross.

If you look at the photo again, right at the back on the left are two guys in DayGlo-yellow shirts. They’re actually taking trash from people’s cars and hauling it in here themselves. Somehow, the 416/79 cavalry have managed to miss my little enclave; these guys were actually helping people get their trash in. Most excellent service too, if I may say. I’ll definitely have to ask more questions tomorrow.

But you know that even if they were strikers, which they were not (?!), it wouldn’t stop some kind of festival from happening. With genuine regret, I managed to completely miss the Festival of India parade, but at least managed to fill my crowd quota for the day with the big balls of Just for Laughs:

All the comics must’ve been on their smoke breaks because everyone there was definitely not funny. Well, there was this one funny part where a gymnast flew dangerously off course, and oh-so-close to the audience:

The look on his face as he lifted himself off the canvas was a masterpiece of raw human emotion; disbelief, horror, embarrassment, relief, self-doubt, and anger; the kind of face you make when you’re in the privy trying, grimly, to eject a particularly unrealistic log. OH, C’MON! WE’VE ALL BEEN THERE!

Anyway, it was funny.

Funnier than cleaning my sofa when I got back to my place:

Eureka, leave a comment and I’ll contact you about where you can send the royalty cheques. What? You didn’t think it’d be just one, did you? Just like foxes, you are.

Now, dear reader, before you berate me for the frequency of my house-keeping, I would like to point out that this is a week’s worth of collected Ollie hair and open-window city exposure.

Plus, we’re in the middle of a war! A dusty, dusty war.

Share / save this post