I missed my flight to dallas.
Checked out of my hotel late.
Woke up at 12:45pm with my pants half off, jacket, sweater, shirt still on, looneys strewn across the floor, camera cracked, documenting the previous night with 3 pictures of the Communist Daughter's bathroom & stairs...
...and I had blood on my finger.
Things got weird.
My "tour de toronto" quest to experience all things Canadian culminated at 1:47am at The Commies Daughter, who not only allowed me to taste hip Toronto, but live, embody it and actually feel like I was it till 5:00am...
Pickled Eggs. Politics. Good Friends. Great Jukebox. And Labatt 50's. It's all about the 50's.
This could stand as one of the best last calls of my life.
You dirty commies.
Thank you.