“50% of marriages end in divorce!” I wanted to shout at the lovely couple having their wedding photos taken at City Hall.

How close could Rob Ford have been with Jim Flaherty? After all, he never called him “Jones.”

“Where’s the dandy convention, gents?” I thought of asking the two anachronistically-attired men waiting for the bus, neither of whom, shockingly, were Seth.

I always look away as the subway approaches, not wanting to witness the inevitable suicide.

As I walk around Toronto, I’m fairly secure in the knowledge that I probably won’t get beat up for wearing my particular team’s colours.

Overheard: people on the streetcar speaking German. I never heard the word “Hitler,” which sets my mind largely at ease.

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