Viagra Falls

Niagara Falls is like Las Vegas with a waterfall. It was disappointing to see nature tainted and intruded upon by ghastly casinos, fast food and extortion oozing out of everywhere. Disgusting, sickening, vile… How can this ever be allowed? Are people afraid to experience nature for what it is? So garish.

Had my first ever Tim Hortons: an iced mocha which had whole ice cubes. More disappointment ensued. Heard beautiful things about taking the greyhound to Vancouver, there is hope.

I miss the sea and old architecture. I miss drunken Scots. I miss the stars. I miss bread and cheddar cheese. Most of all I miss grinding, Canadians don’t know how to grind, they just want to hold your hand pathetically. And for some reason unknown to me I am craving a deep fried mars bar.

I almost had a heart attack when I weighed myself. Canadians use pounds but they don’t know what stones are. Hmm.

I got to experience some aboriginal culture at the Pow Wow Festival which was actually utterly fascinating and wonderful. The museum has artifacts as old as 10,000 BC. And outside there is a longhouse and some little yurt type huts and there were endless stalls and singing that made me shiver and garish clothing and dancing of unbelievable flexibility. Oh and the best pumpkin pie in the world. It only cost $1. Yes frigging whey. I bought some natural creams and oils made from bears, a dreamcatcher and a candle ornament thing. Yes, I went on a spending frenzy, but I didn’t spend a penny at Viagra Falls; I am so much happier spending in Market scenarios. There was actually the perfect ring, I think it had been made especially for me, but alas they didn’t take cards, so we had to go our separate ways. There was an announcement to go to the wheelbarrow and get some free tobacco. Naturally, I went to have a look. I was surprised to see a pile of green leaves, grabbed a bunch and pondered over what I would do with them. Luckily the guy next to me on the shuttle bus had the answer: I just leave them for two weeks to dry out, shred them up and voila!

Then I ate lots of beautiful Jewish food at my aunt’s who was hosting a Rosh Hashanah party. Everyone was speaking Hebrew and I felt like I was in Israel again. There was the cutest 8 year old girl who talked and talked and talked and had the curliest hair. She guessed my age and thought I was 12. I was astonished – I suppose when you’re that young you can only see others as being either really young or really old and working. I had my first Starbucks coffee which tasted like shit.

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