After Sonja's dad showed us how shiny his new van was this morning and we had breakfast we decided to head down to the Drive to do some Christmas shopping. Fuck the mall.
I got to drive. I drove faster than Tim Horton with his wife bitching at him in the passenger seat about how much she needed more cocaine. Despite my desperate Christmas speed we were still passed by several gravel trucks and a couple Canucks in their Hummers on their way to the rink. I told Sonja's dad, "Peppy van for a Ford." He shot back, "If I was driving those people would never have passed us."
The Hammer came with us. She loves the Drive. And she is not embarrassed a bit by having once taken an Irish Spring coloured shit there. That is the difference between dogs and humans. That's about it.
On the way to Dope City we heard on the radio that The Idiot Mayor's plan to clean his hopeless religious wannabe anything but Dope City city of poor people is on track. I have some advice for the poor of Dope City: on December 22nd visit City Hall for a Christmas Vacation and do not take the hints that maybe you should get a hotel room. That fucker of the poor and his filthy rich supporters are out to get you - get you out of the way of the Olympic Dream.