Blame Canada!

As mentioned before. I’ve decided to do a post about my trip to Toronto if anything funny should happen, and believe you me it was a blast. Myself, Mike, and Bandit (Paul) hit the highway for 12 hours each way for fun and frivolity.

My very first practical joke didn’t work out as planned, but was funny all the same. We were leaving my house in South Portland at 3:00 in the morning. I decided that as a prank, for breakfast I’d eat a whole can on baked beans, and munch on sugar free vitamin C drops for the 12 hour ride. Both of which make me especially gassy. I also sprayed myself with half a can of Old Spice body spray to try my best to be the most fragrant traveler ever. Fast forward to 3 hours later in Springfield MA where I am in the grimiest bathroom of a Dunkin Donuts ever, exploding over the toilet. Then fast forward 3 and a half minutes forward to the same bathroom where I explode again, and start to regret the beans and cough drops. I might have regretted it the first time, but figured one blow out might be okay, but now I’ve settled into a pattern with well more than 9 hours left to travel. Apparently it would become obvious to me later that I actually had a cold that would help in the distribution of fluid business for the next few days anyhow.

Fast forward to Buffalo New York, who needs to buy a muffler? Everywhere there were muffler shops. I was looking forward to stopping in Buffalo to have some wings from the town that made them famous. We got a little turned around, and ended up eating at some place called Ying’s Wings and Things, which I’m fairly certain was a tax shelter for the mob, as our waitress knew nothing about the food they served. Whenever I go to a new place, I like to try their local beer. I asked what their darkest local beer was, and the waitress’ reply was “Guinness?” I had ginger ale instead. The wings were good, I didn’t have to poop, but Mike took a picture of Bandit over the stall just prior to him flushing an epic turd. We all had a good laugh at that, and me sucking the juice of the wings off my fingers. Buffalo seemed like an armpit of a town.


Once we were in Niagra Falls, Mike and I played a different version of air hockey. I grew up with an air hockey table and it’s one of my hidden talents. Nobody ever beats me. This was a new style though. It was called Boomerang and it was “V” shaped and you played right next to your opponent. I think I ended up winning 7-3. Mike took a picture of the back of his Bandit’s neck while he wasn’t looking, and it looked like a pack of sausages. The falls were pretty impressive, but we had a destination, so I took another poop and we were off.


Toronto itself feels like a young city. The layout is a lot like Downtown Chicago, with all of the glitz of Times Square. Bordering neighborhoods where the kitschy shops are feel like the “U” District of Seattle. It’s neat, but they sure love Tim Horton’s. How many donuts do people really need? There’s a lot of homeless people in the city, and we saw a rather disturbing sight Saturday night. A Chinese man was “cracked-out” in the middle of Yongue Street. That’s a major downtown street in Toronto. He was sitting Indian style in the middle of the sidewalk with his nose running, tears flowing, foaming up all over himself in the middle of the rain. It hit me in the gut pretty hard. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

We also had breakfast at a place called Over Easy I believe. Ramrod must’ve been feeling silly because he got a chocolate waffle the size of his head. I thought it was funny, because it really looked exactly like something out of a scat video or something and he was wolfing it down.

The Red Sox game was cool; it was a good game even though they lost again. Getty Lee was in the stadium right behind home plate, and the crowd went bananas when they showed him on the big screen. The pitcher was Hansack, who was the same guy I had seen pitch in Portland the week before. Ironic I had to travel so far to see him play again. There were tons of Red Sox fans at the game, and lots of sign from places like Fall River MA.

There’s a lot of hockey stuff in Toronto, and it felt weird to be there. Sports that are important to us mean nothing to them and vice versa. I know nothing about hockey, and they seem to care nothing about baseball. I do care about Coffee Crisps however, which is one of their candy bars we can’t get here. We must’ve eaten enough to feed a small village in those things alone.

On our trip home, we were stopped at the border and pulled from the car. We had to wait in the office with a lot of men name Muhammad etc etc. It was pretty nerve wracking, as I couldn’t think of anything that we might have done that would’ve gotten us handpicked out of those thousands of vehicles to get searched. It made me regret thinking that if we got stopped, I was going to tell an officer that Bandit had balloons of heroin in his butt, but seriously, these cops weren’t “fucking around” as they say. It was all business. Fast forward about 10 hours later, I was back home safe and sound at home with my fiancé, and I took a big poop and went to bed.
Looking forward to next year when we go on another trip. It’s always a blast hanging with the boys.