On Sunday I woke up at my mom’s cottage in Haliburton, ate a pepperoni breakfast, drank coffee, shaved my beard into a moustache, wore cutoffs and shot an antique bb gun at pop cans I hung in the tree to the tunes of canoe FM (which may be the best radio station ever) and thought to myself “I may never go back to the city, ever.” Unfortunately I had to go back to the city that evening…
and when you do reach the sky, then what?
sketching in high park (coloured)
how to get to road hockey, aka “in fer some road bud!?”