This old house

So far my apartment in Toronto has given me little to complain about. With the usual exceptions we all face from time to time (crazy neighbors, random bugs, broken light switches and door handles, etc). I recently discover a new hatred, my windows. Now that it is a zillion degress, okay it’s really 80 degrees but muggy as hell, my place has turned into a steam room. And always with the luck of the Blaxican none of my windows open. None of them. Not one. All of my windows seem to be 2-ply. You can trick yourself into opening a window with hopes of a summer breeze but you are met with this asshole second window that does not move.

Then there is the option of opening my doors for a cross breeze. Sorry Charlie, not in Canada! My front door leads to a hallways and my back door leads to the laundry room. I bought a giant fan called the WindMachine, though I have recently renamed it to GentleBreezefromVirginsLips. Though it is better than nothing I would get better results paying Filipino children to fan me by hand.

While I try to figure out how to cool myself enjoy a lovely picture of me eating Poutine and showing off my traveling hat.

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