Brantford

You want to go to Brantford? Are you nuts? My God, Friend, I spent the first twenty-two years of my life with my eyes shut trying to make this city disappear.

What doesn’t surprise me about my home town (shhh, my husband still doesn’t know) is that they used the main street downtown when they needed a ghost town for the horror movie Silent Hill. If you lived here, you’d be thinking “horror movie” too.

Oh, another Branford Fun Fact: There are three times as many domestic dispute calls to the police per capita in Brantford than there are to nearby Hamilton.

Man, I miss my Mum. Guess it’s time for another trip back home.

a stop on the 403…

Brantford is a disgusting little smear on the face of Ontario’s otherwise gorgeous cities. This town will suck the life out of you and anyone that you let near it. There is NOTHING there and nothing to do whatsoever. Work, sleep, shit, die. Occasionally get so drunk out of your mind that you forget where you live and end up meeting someone.

If you HAVE to go to Brantford, please tell me that the Reggae bar “The Ring” is at least still there. Not the Rodeo (or Ho-deo as we called it). Be afraid. Be very afraid!

There is a fucking loser out there that keeps registering new accounts so he can call me names or make me knit something in shitty acrylic.

You’re an idiot, and further prove my point about this place. :)