A Franciscan monk told me that this morning as I was having a smokebreak on their front stoop. I said I'd give it a go. This was the second smoke of the day. The first was had outside Cafe Syriapreme on Rachel, and interrupted by an elderly lady asking for one. I said 'sure' and passed her it. She dallied for a light and asked if I would lend my cigarette. Again, I said 'sure', and passed her mine. It was only then that I noticed she had Cheetos fingers: literally orange Cheetos-stained digits (and forearms) that were now soiling my first smoke of the day. She passed the greasy, Netherlands-World-Cup-Team-Costume(it's definitely not a uniform)-coloured smoke back to me and uttered a disarmingly sweet 'merci'. It totally descowled me. Menthol is still way better though.
My other run-in with cheese today was when Sophie Of Tim Horton's snuck philly cheese into my bagel when I had to downgrade my cheesy $1.59 order to no-cheesy $1.19 for lack of funds. Thank you Sophie.
I think Graham went to Cowichan Bay with his Mum this weekend. This is where my Mum lives, and I do hope they all got to meet. G's next off to Edmonton to visit Lindz and Ruth.
I had a fantastic weekend, topped off with Lasting Sleep Deprivation, which left me a bit gormless today. As Steve and I were coming back down the mountain (I'm really getting so fed up of Tom and Steve gay jokes.. we were only fishing) we met with Nina and Lori. I'd never met Lori before, but it turned out she was Lori Braun, director of a film named Pantychrist about an all-girl group named Pantychrist (I almost asked what form the stigmata would take, but held my tongue). I was thrilled, as I'd heard much about Lori. She had heard nothing about me, and wondered how long I had known Steve. I answered: 'We're not gay.' Then, over sangria, she told us about a brief relationship she'd had with a lucky geezer with the name Hugh-John. I'll say it again: Hugh-John. And then other stuff happened. It was an excellent Sunday.