Hooker Harvey's

Sunday morning in my brain always equals a brunch buffet. And so I Googled an all-you-can-eat spectacular in Toronto and it directed me to the feast in the heart of the Distillery district at The Boiler House. Thankfully, my hosts were game to jam down some eats and wander around the old distillery on a crisp (thank you Lord!) morning, my last in Toronto.







A lot of pretentious diners, as well as wait staff, were present. We must have been unsightly because they stuck us in a completely different restaurant altogether, which was attached to The Boiler House at the rear. We sat in the rear. Nice.




This sign was near the bathrooms. I should have sounded my horn.















After I had finally distilled enough of my breakfast from my gut (wha?), we headed to this ghetto little beach out in an industrial area.





Koo. After the beach, we headed back into downtown (SPADINA. SPADINA STATION.) but not before driving past the ‘Hooker Harvey’s’. We drove especially out of the way, just so I could see it. But (sadly?) there were no hookers present.



A friend of Shannon’s said that she thought I would like Kensington, so we elected to see that next. They’d never been either, so in our innocence, we headed into this bohemian village. I found it just as disconcerting as Camden Market in London. Do I seem I’d like that, really? It seemed like all a lot of the shop vendors were on drugs.






I do, however, love street art.









We managed to escape Kensington not high, and not a moment too soon. Shannon loudly proclaimed she never wishes to return, and…yeah. Onwards.

We headed down Queen’s Street to see the Much Music building, the epicenter of my teenage ambitions. I was wholly disappointed. The building was boring, nothing was happening, and the Much sign had long since been taken down. Where do I sign up to dance on Electric Circus?



Last stop on this crunk adventure was the CN Tower. I needed some “Oops I Crapped My Pants” when it came to the glass floor though. Shizz!













With my legs now seizing-up from days of relentless walking, we rode the trolley car back to the carpark, sipping on Chilled Glace all the way. UGH. LOVE CHILLED GLACE.

Dinner was at this cute little Italian place called Paisano’s and then we drank ourselves silly before heading to bed…only to get up at like, 5:30 AM to head over to the airport. I was still…maybe two sheets…but the long flight home was sobering enough. I’ll be heading back there soon enough…providing the city will still have me!

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Chilled Glace

MAY LONG WEEKEND. Can you guess what the traffic is like leaving Canada’s largest city on a long weekend? Well, there were a lot of Chinese people pulled over on the shoulder, and that didn’t help at all. Our destination was accordingly busy, considering it is arguably Canada’s biggest tourist attraction, Niagara Falls. Also, it was filled to the brim with drunk American teenagers! Yay for a three-years younger drinking age…

First stop was Starbucks to hand over my hard-earned dollars for fraps at inflated prices. Mmmm java chip.





Wow, Niagara is sure a tourist-trappy place. Once you get to the falls though, it’s nothing but nature. That, and a representative from nearly every ethnic group on planet earth.



We decided to brave the falls and suited up for a journey on the Maid of the Mist. Before the trip, I wasn’t sure if we’d go on the boat or not, so I didn’t pack appropriately. But how bad can it be?....I thought to myself as they hand me a full-body hooded blue poncho…


Adults. Yes.





It was a race to get a spot on the railing and we weren’t nearly aggressive enough when getting on the boat. But the falls are big, so we should be able to see. We puttered off on our journey.






I look like a little kid.




Thanks to Shannon and Brent for all these pictures of me in my blue poncho!

The voyage was…like riding into the eye of a hurricane. I thought I’d get a good look at the falls from up close but turning my face towards the fall was like burying my head in a bucket of water. All I could do was try to seal off all entrances to my poncho to save my Gucci bag from getting drenched. Eeeeeekkkkk!


This is pretty much the view for the whole time we bobbed in front of the falls.


lol Shan.


Like a turtle, retreating into my shell.












Shannon’s little finger windshield wipers.

And when the boat finally hightailed it out of there, I felt/looked/(smelled?) like a wet dog. Wow. What fun! Let’s stay on the boat for the next trip! Ha ha….?



We plodded our way closer to the falls and then things started to get a little hairy…er.



Clearly, for safety, one should not do whatever the man in the sign is attempting to do. But wouldn’t you know it…not 10 seconds after we saw the sign, the unthinkable happened…



It was perilous. I had to save her life. I’m kind of a hero now, but I don’t need medals or anything.











Ah, there are only so many pictures one can take of a large amount of water. Eventually we hiked up the hill back into town for some grub and then moseyed our way out of town for the long haul back to the big city. It was so hot.





That night I met my best friend who will be with me for life. Or at least for the summer – McDonald’s Chilled Glace. Shannon had told me about their Iced Coffee to which I responded, “I don’t do iced coffee and I don’t do McDonald’s.” She was so polite with my pretentiousness. Brent, however, ignored it and bought me one anyone. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIFE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME! And the cup said “Chilled Glace”. So, that’s it’s name.


zomg

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