The last several days have been enough to make any respectable Torontonian take up smoking and a quitting smoker consider violence.
I didn't breathe for the entirety of Jeffrey Buttle's long program, which probably did more damage to my brain than 16 years of smoking.
The Jays cut perhaps their gutsiest player in Reed Johnson.
The Jays lost their new third baseman for weeks after he got hurt during routine fielding drills. Are you kidding me?
Hillary Clinton's campaign seems intent on turning Barack Obama's former pastor into Osama bin Laden. So very depressing yet predictable. I bet Barack is smoking again.
TTC employees may strike next week. Philip Morris should set up vendors along major transit routes.
Today was perhaps the ugliest, most depressing day in the history of Toronto weather.
As I am writing this, on the TV news, "a police officer has shot a man ..." in an apparent attempted bank hold-up.
The weatherman cheerfully talks about an Alberta clipper. I think I should find this guy and beat the sleet out of him.
And, starting in just a few minutes, the Leafs continue on their sadistic journey ... and I will watch it with gritted teeth and dreams of Dunhill Special Reserves.