Stop the Slay Ride!
Toronto on a map appears close to civilization. Upon inspection of the neighborhoods and sports arena, this is not the case. We might have been granted entrance to a trashy Disney carnival of freaks by the vested man who boarded our bus yesterday, because this retarded futuristic city is not what one expects so close to Buffalo (our standard of excellence).
To begin with, there is wanton disregard for the 3-pepper rating system used by most ethnic restaurants to convey spice. Two peppers appear on numerous menu items so bland that one could safely warm a baby's bottle in them with nary a squeal from the suckling youngster. Even a packet saying "hot chili sauce" in two languages secretes a salve so soothing that, with a dot of tea trea oil, it might become a popular sunburn treatment if so labeled.
There is also the matter of taxes. If we select a beverage with a price of 1.99 per item, it multiplies to the inflated rate of 2.43 each. Alcohol is taxed in a literally incalculable manner. Cups of beer at the "major league" sports events here go for 9.75, a sum that won't by you six bottles of anything anywhere in this province. A half liter of anything is no bargain at $10+. I can only imagine (for now) the stranglehold in which the government has the french-style female entertainers toiling down the road at the Brass Rail.
Our hotel subscribes to the timeless mandate "you can check out any time you like, but your food stains on the wall and cigarette leavings and handprints in the bathroom and your inexplicable drywall dust on the floor can never leave."
The title of this post is copied from a local rag that has (finally) taken a stand against the provincial zoo killing it's baby reindeer, a policy that was, honestly, destined to fail on its own.
To begin with, there is wanton disregard for the 3-pepper rating system used by most ethnic restaurants to convey spice. Two peppers appear on numerous menu items so bland that one could safely warm a baby's bottle in them with nary a squeal from the suckling youngster. Even a packet saying "hot chili sauce" in two languages secretes a salve so soothing that, with a dot of tea trea oil, it might become a popular sunburn treatment if so labeled.
There is also the matter of taxes. If we select a beverage with a price of 1.99 per item, it multiplies to the inflated rate of 2.43 each. Alcohol is taxed in a literally incalculable manner. Cups of beer at the "major league" sports events here go for 9.75, a sum that won't by you six bottles of anything anywhere in this province. A half liter of anything is no bargain at $10+. I can only imagine (for now) the stranglehold in which the government has the french-style female entertainers toiling down the road at the Brass Rail.
Our hotel subscribes to the timeless mandate "you can check out any time you like, but your food stains on the wall and cigarette leavings and handprints in the bathroom and your inexplicable drywall dust on the floor can never leave."
The title of this post is copied from a local rag that has (finally) taken a stand against the provincial zoo killing it's baby reindeer, a policy that was, honestly, destined to fail on its own.
posted by Michael Flanagan at 2:32 PM
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