Hockey Night in Canada

Day 1 is complete. Actually, Day 1 and day 2 are complete, in a disjointed half-assed sort of fashion. And we are in Toronto. And by "we" I mean Tammy, Fat, and myself. The other prospective Canada travelers all backed out. Not that we need them to have a good time. Just some Alexander Keith's and Hockey Night in Canada.

How did we get here? In two dstinct parts. First was the evening shift, last night's run for the border from Crestwood to Windsor, douchebag capital of North America. Seriously, Windsor is just a place for every college kid that isn't old enough to buy alcohol nor cool enough to join the Pikes to come get drunk and find chicks to get intimate with, where the definition of "get intimate" is take back to the room, get her blood-alcohol level higher than her IQ, and have your way. After all, it's not a mistake if she can't remember it, right? Not that the girls aren't doing their best to look like a

Boxing Day special walking down the street in mini-skirts and scoop-cut shirts in 40 degree (F) temperatures and rain.

But hey we made it a Boxing Day (they celebrate that up here) to remember, with the Hawks on the TV in a sports bar and a trip to the Aardvark, ending with a well-deserved night's sleep.

Picking up in the morning, we have breakfast at a McDonald's that doesn't have biscuits (at all, everything's a McMuffin or a bagel) and hit the road in FogRace '08. I never considered that rising temperatures could actually cause snow to porduce fog but, alas, there it is! A dicey drive across the piece of Ontario between lakes Huron and Ontario, and we finally reach Toronto, to find our beautiful house for the week, where we've settled down for that most sacred of Candian traditions, beer and Hockey Night in Canada.

O Canada, indeed.

More to come in the following days.