User Posts

Stalker magnet.

Ellie Goulding -This Love (Will Be Your Downfall)

Gee, too bad Eve drowneded. I brought my world famous brownies.

I can't use mice anymore my wrist gets tired too quickly. I use a trackball.

Content.

Marina and the muffins - Oh No!

You're not that hard to put up with.

Oh.

*sighes*°

Forever.

Card games on motorcycles?

Ah, excellent. Poke away then, and apologies if I offended by checking.

Zamor! Did you register as a tease and provocateur this year? (Narrows eyes) Or are you just a... molester.

Okay. So story time.

I live in York, one of the regions that are just outside Toronto. I actually rarely go into the city itself, but when I do...

Once, I'm walking down College Street toward young, and I see a Native man at the mouth of an alley, selling one of those small press broadsheets that charities and businesses give or sell to the homeless. Some are very well produced, actually. It's a way partly to help them help themselves (a carrier for the Toronto Star that frequents my work got her job by starting out with those 'street sheets', and partly a way around pride- you're not begging, you're doing a job. I get it, I was homeless myself for two years.

I scan the sheet, planning to make a donation even if I don't get one. I just don't want to pick up a duplicate of the two I have already.

'Buy it or don't," the man growls instantly.

I didn't.

Later, I'm up at Union, waiting for the GO train that'll take me home... when I say that same guy cooing to an elderly native woman, calling her grandma and imploring her to let the spirits bid her council, and giving her some of his money despite her protests. And she sits, with great dignity, on her scooter until he walks away.

I walk up. "That boy even part of your Nation, Muriel?"

"Don't think he's ever been on a Rez in his life either, Ed," a woman that once taught math sighed. I met her after she retired. She was now a 'full time grandmother', and owned three rental properties. She held out the cash. "Dean's playing his guitar in the subway part of the station, drop this in his case for me?"

Muriel's dead, now. Never did see that paper seller again.

*shrugs, leaves cafe*

Wonder if their name comes from a love of vanilla.

*rolls Eve up in comforters and sheets like sushi.*

*sits her up.*

*sits beside her.*

*opens book*

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her...

Akiryo- yes, as in pastry. An understandable question, around here.

Tart, Akiryo?

Excellent. Pour me some dark roast, pour yourself some tea, and we'll split this box of tarts I brought as we watch the others do their thing.