Patrick Harris

This is some seriously ghetto shit. Fuck that noise.

It may seem odd to rant and rave about something of this nature, but the food court at Union Station is to die for. I’m serious. You wouldn’t believe.

Sorry. The imported waitresses are hot, but frankly the drinks are just way too expensive.

I know I’m practically alone in this, but I found my Disney experience to be entirely lackluster. I prefer rides to animatronics, so I was almost entirely disappointed, and even though I wasn’t the one paying for it the prices were excessive – I hate to be that guy, but come on, even in an amusement park a hot dog should not cost that much. Also, in Magic Kingdom, they don’t serve alcohol. Sure, that might not mean anything to you, but to me and my family, that’s a problem.

Now, the fireworks at Epcott were pretty cool. And so was “drinking around the world”, sampling everything available at each country. But to be honest the high point of the day was the hang gliding sim, I forget what it was called, and that was mostly because it was (1) inside and (2) air conditioned, y’know?

Also, I was disgusted by “Kodak picture spots”, where you can get the same family Disney photo that everyone else has by standing right where they tell you. I mean … come on.

All in all, I’d rather have spent one day at my local Six Flags.

Very clean design, nothing pretentious. Very odd items are left here – stacks of pennies, shot glasses of dark liquids, et cetera. Worth seeing, if you’re in the area and/or a fan.

So there I am, sitting in the pizza place across the giant square from the bus terminal, and an obviously indigent man comes flying up to our table from the door, gasping something in French through cracked lips and three days of beard, which is obviously a plea for money or similar assistance. A hulking man in a white t-shirt and a stained apron moved up behind him and took him gently by the shoulders, which where I come from is a prelude to the smaller man learning how to fly in the vicinity of the front door, but instead the big guy sat him down, gave him a cigarette, a light, a slice of pizza, and a Coke. I was baffled, until my aforementioned native guide explained that this was the norm in these parts, and that’s the image that I’ve kept with me of the city. It was impressive.

Be warned, though, most everything closes at about 5pm. Also, you don’t know what cold means until you go to Montreal.