Canadians in the Olympics

Canadians have been very consistent at the Olympics. Consistently shitty.

Event after event, they have consistently managed to avoid any medals. But no worries. The ever-optimistic Canadian media manage to report the Olympics with that "It's an honor just to be nominated" touch.

Eighth-place finishes are praised as if they were first place. Thirty-fifth place spots are honored as if a double-digit standing leads to a medal around your neck.

But that's not to say Canadians haven't set any records. For example, when the Canadian men's water polo team lost 12:0 to Montenegro, they achieved a shutout - something that has not been seen in Olympics water polo since 1976. Way to go, boys!

I wish for once the Canadian media would come out and say the truth, like "Canadians did not have even the slightest chance" or "Canadians managed to suck again." Instead, their headlines make it look like they are always so close:

"The Canadian women's wresting team had the potential for a medal"
"Canada puts up fight but loses to Cuba in baseball -The Canadian men's baseball team showed it could hang with the big boys on Thursday"

And finally...
"Canada's best Olympic events still to come"


Like when? The winter Olympics?

Caribana

Last weekend was Caribana weekend. This is the festival that brings more than 1 million people to Toronto each year and pumps over $300 million into the city's economy.

The festival also brings to Toronto three things usually tough to find here - black people, crowds and garbage.

Some Torontonians look foward to Caribana about as much as some New Yorkers look forward to the Puerto Rico parade - they get the hell out of town. They express fears over getting raped, shot or killed and cease all outdoor activities for the weekend.

I attended two Caribana events, including the parade that stretches near Toronto's harbo(u)rfront. It is probably the only time in Toronto that someone looking for an African American friend can't point him out by saying "He's the black guy."

Toronto's empty streets were packed. The clean highways were covered in litter. Every square inch of space was turned into a jerk chicken stand. There was a lot of fake boobs, fake hair and fake nails. Everyone and their mother tried to sell something - flags, keychains, Obama badges, "I survived Caribana" T-shirts, not to mention food - coconuts, bamboo, beef patties, wings... Many of the white people attending the festivities were white trash, such as a very pale girl who tried to turn black but instead got a painful sunburn.

Torontonians can complain all they want. But Caribana brought some much-needed spice. And that $3 bbq chicken was damn good. Dat shit peeled right off the bone, yo. Word.

Booze cruise

I may have discovered why some Toronto bars and streets often seem empty.

Everyone here drinks on boats.

Booze cruises are used for company parties, weddings, private parties or just regular drinkathons. There is just something beloved about the combination of water and alcohol. It is apparently next to impossible to book one of these here. They are so popular, I wouldn't be surprised if they are also used for wedding showers, baby showers and similar unnecessary events that should be outlawed.

For those of you with geography issues - no, the booze cruises don't glide along hockey rinks here, they travel along Lake Ontario. The one I went on involved a large boat with three levels. The bottom level is for losers, the second one is for semi-losers and the third one is for the party people.

So here is the report from the third floor.

The evening started out innocent enough, with people milling about and admiring the views of industrial buildings and highways near Toronto's waterfront. Once the bartender got busy, so did the dance floor. Overweight middle-aged women shook their thing, Indian men pretended to be black, and obnoxious, over-makeuped and overdressed twentysomethings busted out their best slutty moves.

Truth be told, the weather was nice and the cruise was fun so it's hard to bash it. So I'll bash the booze cruise music instead.

Like any Toronto DJ, the booze cruise DJ mixed up a healthy dose of 90s tunes, as Toronto refuses to musically progress into the 21st century. I'm talking 'Brown eyed girl,' 'Come on Eileen,' etc. No matter how many years you are away from this city, it will always play the same music. It's like the whole city's music taste is stuck in some time capsule from the wrong decade.

If I wanted to hear that crap, I'd put those cassettes in a Walkman, or whatever we did in that decade to listen to music. But please, please, get a calendar, Toronto DJs.

A kayak trip

I went kayaking in Lake Ontario the other day.

Because I always mix canoeing and kayaking together, I thought I had done this before. Turns out, I hadn't. That was canoeing.

I didn't really know what to expect, perhaps a little leisurely kayak near the harb(u)rfront. Next thing I know, one of the kayakers in the group was seasick and another had to paddle back to avoid getting hit by a ferry.

I did my best to follow the one rule we were told we must follow, which is to avoid the big white buoys that belong to the nearby island airport. The importance of this really hit me while I was paddling in the middle of the lake, awfully close to a sign that read "Caution, low flying planes overhead" and another that said something along the lines of "Keep away. Avoid criminal prosecution."

My kayak trip - which turned out to be about three hours long - also involved directions to steer right to avoid a booze cruise and later steer left to avoid a yacht.

When we arrived to the more peaceful and quiet side of the island, my fellow kayakers immediately started munching on granola bars they had carefully stored in Ziploc bags and drank out of gigantic Evian water bottles they skillfully strapped to the front of their boats.

Needless to say, I was not so prepared. So I spent most of my time trying to avoid bird shit from above, as a number of birds kept using their feces as artillery, clearly a result of feeling threatened by a group of adults in orange vests and banana-shaped boats.

After proudly returning without bird poop or a criminal indictment, we were treated to a BBQ. One of our kayak experts instantly transformed himself into a BBQ expert. With his life jacket still on, he traded his paddle for BBQ tongs and got to work.

I took this time to observe fellow paddlers from my group, which included a man who wore a Crocodile Dundee hat and a shirt full of pictures of trees. I was convinced that any minute, he would leave the burger line and start hugging trees, but I was wrong.

I, with my ass still soaked from kayaking, stayed in the line and got toasted buns.

Family-friendly

Toronto has an impressive number of "family-friendly" or "kid-friendly" activities. This is great unless:
a) you're not a kid
b) you don't have a kid
c) both of the above.

Being that I belong in the c) category, this family-friendliness is getting on my nerves. Barbecues have more kids than hot dogs, the island ferry has more strollers than life vests and sidewalks everywhere are crawling with little people. There are more kids here than in Brangelina's house, which is just wrong.

Little people seem to be running this city. Everything here is for them. Every activity, fair, show, concert and parade is full of family-friendly, aka boring activities.

For once, I'd like to see a poster for some event that say things like "Not family-friendly, "Please do not bring children" and "No families allowed." I don't want no face painting, animal petting, balloon making or anything with the following words/phrases: "splashing," "loads of fun" and "buckets of fun."

I want some family unfriendly, R-rated fun.

Arts and crafts fair

I went to an arts and craft fair this weekend, which should have been called the arts and other crap fair.

Sure, there were a couple of booths with nice ceramics and pretty travel photographs, but let's focus on the crap, shall we?

There was a giant painting of an ugly, hairy man (the artist himself) breastfeeding a child. Beside them was a table where a nasty cat was licking milk that had spilled from a carton.

This was unfortunately not the last time an ugly artist had included himself in his painting. Another floppy-eared artist managed to incorporate his ugly self into each one of his works. A young woman found space in every painting for a guy that was sitting beside her at the arts and crap fair, presumably her boyfriend.

There were other works of crap too, such as a photograph of a young woman vomitting flowers, gigantic photos of ugly bugs and scribbles that were clearly drawn by someone in diapers yet carried a price tag in the hundreds.

I of all people understand what it means to be broke and in an undervalued profession. But these people seem to be asking to be struggling artists. Because I don't see who in their right mind would spend hundreds of dollars to hang that ugly crap on their living room wall.

But all was not lost as, like any fair, this one included booths with food. So I finally bought some pieces.

Fun activities

During the recent Canada Day celebrations, there were a number of "fun" activities going on in Toronto and the nearby towns and I thought I'd share some of them:

-"1812 historical military re-enactment" Why is this fun? Who wants to go to this unless it's mandatory to pass 5th grade history?

-"family-friendly activities that reflect the diversity - both culturally and geographically - of our country" What the f does this mean? Boring shit for kids while parents eat Chinese spring rolls and chicken masala?

-"Manitoba Chamber Orchestra" I'm sure they would have rocked my world.

-"musket drills, fife and drum music" What does any of that even mean?

-"electronics recyling drop-off" Ok, that really is exciting and I feel very bad I didn't go.