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Showing posts from November, 2003

red noses running

Spent the day down at the Santa Claus parade, third year in a row. This year, a bunch of us helped out Jess and Dee by selling noses for Sunnybrook/Women's down at Queen and Yonge. All I hoped was that it wouldn't be as bone-chilling damp as it was last year. Did not get off to an great start. Took longer to get ready than expected, so I made a mad dash to the subway. Thought I'd make it down just in time, until a fire investigation at St. Patrick station brought the Yonge line to a crawl, then stop. I was stuck at St. Clair and nearly got off to search for a taxi, until it was announced all was good to go. Arrived 15 minutes late, but that didn't seem to matter too much. Picked up a bag of moses and headed south on Yonge with Kiersten and Dee's mom. Business was good - went through two bagfuls quickly. Was a little nervous at first, following behind the others, then gradually starting bellowing out like a baseball game program huckster. The parade to

election wrap-up

Looks like the polls at the end of the race were accurate - David Miller won the mayor's chair, with John Tory a close second (44% to 38%). This will go down as the first time I ever voted for a political candidate who got into office. Barbara Hall's campaign completely collapsed - from polls indicating support in the mid-40% range before the campaign picked up full steam, she wound up with 9% of the vote. I walked by her campaign party (the old York theatre), where glum faces paced outside. Nunziata's car-honking only grabbed him 5%, while Jakobek...BWAHAHAHAHA...1%.

monkeys from the past

Decided to sift through the back reaches of my rarely-used Hotmail account (aka Spam 'R Us). Found this note, received way, way back in September of 1995, the oldest e-mail I have kicking about. We're talking the dawn of my second year at U of G. It's juvenile and gut-busting at the same time: I like monkeys. The pet store was selling them for five cents apiece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys. I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing. I hearded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectac

one fine saturday in the city

Feeling impatient about wanting to see the remaining Halloween pictures in my camera, I spent Saturday walking around downtown, snapping whatever looked interesting, or worth looking back on 30 years from now. Started by heading west along Bloor to the Annex. The ROM has an old new temporary look - the last addition has been demolished to make way for the touted Daniel Liebskind design. Currently, you can see the old outside walls of the museum. Enjoy the view while you can. As I headed south on Bathurst, a steady stream of cars adorned with red balloons raced by, horns honking. It was a caravan of vehicles for John Nunziata's faltering mayoral campaign. I resisted the urge to yell "Nunziata sucks!" A few ballons fell off, causing anxious moments for drivers behind them. From there, went across College and down through Kensington Market. One of the few times I didn't run into anybody I know. Went into Chinatown, stopped to snack on some Chinese buns. I