WELCOME TO CANADA, BITCH! (With A Dash Of HNT)

(Alternate Title: Who Took My Toque?)

Greeting all you koo koo crazy kids! As promised, I have returned, with tales of suspense and intrigue. Of course, the suspense and intrigue have to do with whether or not my truck would still be at LAX when I go home. (What do you expect in an $8 a day parking lot?)

I'm also including a little HNT action, seeing as though it's taken me this long to finally get this post done

As I’m sure many of you deciphered from my last post I went on a little vacation up north, Canada way. But the trip wasn’t for the beer, and it wasn’t for the Poutine, but rather to see that Hottie Hella and the ever-Saucy Sassy.

Seeing as though the Canadian chica’s have already beaten me to the weekend review (cause I’m a slacker) I’ll do my best to not bore you with too much repetition.

This was my plan:
The travel plan for the trip is a bit messy though, in order to catch my flight out of LAX Friday morning I have to work a little "mojo." My plan for the day is to finish work, eat dinner, go to sleep by 6pm, wake up at midnight, drive to LAX, battle security, and sleep in the terminal to catch my 6:30am flight. Needless to say this has completely screwed up my sense of time.

And in usual Exile fashion things went off with numerous hitches.
1. I couldn’t’ sleep past 9 pm
2. I couldn’t find Parking Lot B to save my life
3. Once there, no one could give two fucks about which bus I should take to get to the actual airport
4. I couldn’t understand the Zimbabwean bus driver
5. I didn’t know that LAX actually closes
6. I didn’t know that LAX doesn’t open till 4:30 am
7. The flight did not serve a meal
8. The food court didn’t open till six (right about the time my was flight boarding)
9. The seats on Air Canada are tiny. Hell, tampons are given more legroom. (No space = no comfort = no sleep)
10. The movie on the flight was The Devil Wear’s Prada. A movie so bad, that I nearly sucker-punched the stewardess for announcing it (in both English and French, natch.)

The flight arrived 15 min early, which resulted in a cold sweat as I realized that there was no Hella and no Sass to be found. It felt like my phone took an hour to recalibrate to Canadian so I could make a call.

A few parking issues resulted in a slight delay for the girls and a string of profanities that verbally castrated the incompetent driver in front of them.

I tried to find a visible stop for the girls to see me, which happened to be standing on the corner (insert hooker joke here) with freezing wind blowing through my jacket and a dash of frozen rain. Luckily my heroines arrived just as part of me began to, well… you know.

“The Califfffffffornian is fffffffreezing!”

Luckily, once in the car I began to warm up, then heat up, eventually the jacket came off (unfortunately my pants stayed on, hehehe).

Friday night was a mixture of marinated meatballs and “get to know you” chitchat. It’s amazing how much you can enjoy just “chill’n.” the excitement of seeing all my little blog-lings pushed all thoughts of “you’ve been up for nearly 24 hours” out of my mind.

And as I have noted in the past, Canada is a weird place, and I do mean weird.
For instance:
· Did you know milk comes in bags in Canada? It also has a small letter-opening tool for opening the bag.
· Canada loves Canada. They advertise to themselves that they should visit Canada on a regular basis. Even the Canadian symbol for Canada (The Maple Leaf) is on everything. It became a game to see if that could spot the “leaf.”
· A beanie is called a toque (too-ka). It turns out that when one is at “the clay hills” yelling out “who took my toque” is only funny to people who know you’re American. (Inside comment: “what was up with the tampon?”)
· It’s easier just to hand the cashier a hand full of money and look at him suspiciously, then it is to figure out what the hell the money is worth there. At the movies I bought a bag of popcorn and 2 SODAS for a fist full of “funny money.” I couldn’t afford Park Place or Boardwalk.
· Canadian Tire Company is like Wal-Mart, except they make their own money.
· Poutine is essentially fries with brown gravy and white cheese, and if you look at Sassy’s blog, you’ll it kinda looks like what it will look like before and after you’re done eating, but it is pretty tasty.(But somethings are even more tasty)

· A napkin is called a “ser-ve-ett,” but luckily a paper towel is a paper towel.


Canadian-isims aside, there were other shenanigans to be had. We played multiple rounds of Lightning Reactions, we played a card game that nearly gave me an aneurysm, and watch as both Mr and Mrs Sass entered into a battle of wills over who could keep from talking the longest (the loser had to clean the windshield). Ironically they both lost at the same time, but wouldn’t admit it.

Now, I’m man enough to admit when I’ve been beaten, and yes, I was beaten. Hella kicked my ass at the driving games we played at Dave & Busters. But in my own defense Hella does have a bit more practice, see, she drives in real life the way she drives in the game, so…

There are few things sexier than girls who can whoop-ass at video games (yes, even if it’s my ass getting whooped). Hella even kicked my ass at Air Hockey, the best part was after scoring a wicked goal she screamed out “Welcome to Canada, Bitch!” I suppose it serves me right to come between a Canadian and hockey. (Side note: we went to dinner and there was a hockey game on TV at the bar, Hella could not pry her eyes from the screen)

Sure, there are some things we didn’t have time to do, but all that means is that there may just be another trip in the works. A taste is good, but two tastes are better, besides, I do believe I’m owed a “Forrest Gump Dance.” (Thanks Hella’s Mom!)

All and all I have to say that this trip was everything I could have ever wanted and more. Mr and Mrs Sass were the best of hosts and have earned a special place in my heart (right next to the whips and the chains). Thanks to you guys I’m feeling a little more Canadian, (I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.)

So who’s sex on skates now?


As for Hella, let’s just say there is a vast shortage of amazing women in the world, a handful at most, and she is among the best of them. (Sass, what do you mean she floated away?)




Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com