Normally, on a warm summer weekend, I would spend my time cruising downtown TO's used bookstore-strips, now in tragic decline due to the Internet and a general increase in stupidity, and then reading my new-bought treasures at some local sports-bar, dressed pretty much like this guy here (except that I would be wearing one of my many, many pairs of sports sandals, because way back when when everyone wore sandals and stuck flowers in their hair was a Golden Age and you youth of today, with your green hair and nose rings and your tattoos and that shitty music.... all suck magnificently).
But not this weekend, with the G8/G20 lock-down in force. The wife and I are off to Ottawa because she's allergic to the smell of tear-gas and they've got book-stores in Ottawa and its a nice cultural center that's less than a plane-ride away. (Wish they had better restaurants, though)
Anyone around over the weekend that wants to quaff a few beers, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and we'll see what might transpire. I think I've rigged up something Sunday afternoon with Balbulican, Marie Eve, and Dr. Dawg himself, who will, for a small fee, actually let you touch that crazy mustache. I won't reveal the location until later, and privately, to avoid assassins and unwanted press attention, but it will be somewhere near the market.