…it hardly feels like work.

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It started off with a tweet in which she mentioned how she’d just burnt her lip on a hot drink but couldn’t sue the company because the cup said, “Caution: Hot!”, and because she wasn’t living in the States.

I chuckled and responded:

She responded with:

Okay, obviously my tweet sounded like an insult so this was kinda justified.

I didn’t mean to imply that she doesn’t understand English, just that litigation for such things has gone to such extreme lengths (especially since she mentioned the States) that, you know, if at first you don’t succeed, sue sue again.

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No destination, no problem. The important thing is to dress properly and cover unwashed hair.

And yes, I believe that wallpaper is older than me (and I ain’t no spring chicken).

I think it’s time to resurrect it — the constitutional. As in, “Put the coffee on in a few, I’m goin’ fer me constitutional!”

Tonight, the snow made it especially worthwhile, and it’s pretty darned good most other times (except when it falls below -20°C as it did last night — that’s just kaka).

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They’re at it again!

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The old geezer’s got the right idea, huh? *yawn*

I’ve finally managed to find a place for some of my treasures.

These fond memories were all salvaged from abandoned, dilapidated, crumbling buildings that I explored during my UrbEx days.

UrbEx (or Urban Exploration), traces a large proportion of its origins to Infiltration.org, based in Toronto, and later UER.ca (UrbEx Resources), possibly also Toronto-based. As enthusiasts are quick to point out, people have been exploring (including structures, abandoned or otherwise), since exploration has existed. The only real difference with UrbEx is the fact that a label and a hardhat have been slapped on it.

In 99% of the cases, UrbExers are breaking the law by trespassing, so that’s part of the fun right there.  Then there are the dangerous conditions of some of the buildings, that’s a plus. Also, some locations are remote enough that if you get stuck, you might be seriously fucked.

And then, sometimes, you hit on a cache of salvageables, items that need to be saved. I had no qualms about snatching any of these things before someone set fire to the place, or it was flooded, or collapsed, or was collapsed, etc. etc. In fact, after seeing what happened to some of the places I’d visited, I wish I’d been able to give more things a home.

I took photos too but I don’t know what happened to them. I suspect they’re burned onto some CD sitting around my flat but that doesn’t narrow down the culprits. Hopefully I’ll find them one day, and find them worth sharing.

I’ve already eaten all the good ones so now what am I supposed to do one do with all the leftover Christmas cookies?

Christmas trees too — done, pack ’em up and ship ’em out. It’s over. Next up, my birthday in which I get to keep all my cash … yay!

…sunsets by the lake are worth the frozen nipples.

I always loved those commercials. They kind of implied that brains would taste pretty good sopped up with some chunky toasted bread and maybe a hash brown, butter, and bacon (or short pig), on the side. And f-f-f-f-f-f-Fava beans, Clarissssssssssse.

The correlation was, you do drugs, you will get a taste for human flesh. Inevitable, jerkhole.

There’s a really interesting corollary between those anti-drug campaigns, eggs sitting on tops of walls (and subsequently falling off), the falling of the walls themselves (below), the frying of the whole place (further below), and — it seems — a drug-induced stupor at City Hall that allowed the whole thing to happen. And then the egg on their faces. Thus the circle of life is complete.

It was April 16th of last year when the facade came down near Ryerson, just over the Salad King restaurant which everyone suddenly remembered with cherished memories and the inevitable adage, “…but I haven’t been there for a while.”

Recall:

I think Salad King was planning to re-open some time tragically soon — just to pour Thai hot sauce on that open wound. And that’s exactly what it’s been since it came down: just a gaping gash on Gould Street. They threw a big tarp over the rubble on the street, fenced the area off, and that’s how it sat until this week’s fire.

Okay, so I’ve been asking this question for a while now … why has this building been allowed to sit as a wreck for this long? Why cover the frickin’ rubble with a tarp?

Well, apparently the thing was a heritage building and City Hall was mulling over what to do with it. Guess the bricks in the rubble were historic as well, hence the tarp.

But while Councillors were chewing the end-of-term / beginning-of-term cud, getting tours of City Hall, cancelling snacks, etc., the thing was left unattended and this week exploded into a six-alarm blaze — didn’t know there were that many alarms!

Even when I dropped by the next day the thing was still smouldering, apparently having re-erupted earlier that morning. “Normal for a fire of this magnitude”, I was assured.

Some are thinking potentially arson, I’m thinking dangerous exposed building left to the elements. Probably electrical, caused by the recent thaw, and then enjoying a very comfortable stay in the mostly wooden, former Empress Hotel building.

In the meantime, Yonge Street is now closed along with Gould (foot traffic ‘n all), and the open sore is much more so. That can’t go on too long.

My suggestion: get Ryerson University – literally across the street – involved. I mean, let all the investigators finish up, but after that I’m sure there are plenty of classes that could benefit from having to identify historic remains to salvage, perform actual fire forensics investigations, do structural engineering studies, and so on. Maybe George Brown get get itself a piece of that sweet action too. Real-world experience, free work force who get to take those spongy livers outside for some fresh air.

Just don’t let that building go to ruin a third time, you know?