Spring Break is all over now. It came and went like a high school boy on prom night, and unlike the rest of you who were smart enough to go somewhere warm, or who will be smart enough to do so sometime in the very near future, I headed North to the land of Maple syrup -- Canada.

The party was in Toronto last week, and although those bastards tried to screw us with crappy exchange rates from our valuable American dollars to their imitation Monopoly money, we still managed to get drunk cheap. Sure, we took in some of the "sights" as well. You could almost say that it was like we were in a whole other country. Craziness.

We checked out the CN tower, which is Canada's mighty phallic symbol and attempt to compensate for their lack of military power. Let me tell you, though, that thing works. It struck fear into the heart of this American, what with its tallness and lack of an opaque floor. You can see straight down... I had to scrub the hell out of my boxers after that.

Other than the heavy drinking and boxer-crapping though, there is one more reason to go to Canada, and that would be Tim Hortons. We heard their coffee was good, but we didn't know the half of it. Canadians are addicted to the shit, and its obvious why... its laced with heroin, and they sell it in three gallon containers, which you might assume is enough for the whole office to get their morning coffee -- but you'd be wrong, because once you are hooked on the Hortons, you'll protect that three-gallon hovel with your life. You'd even take a bullet for it, and if your doctor understands (and if he's Canadian, he will), he'll probably hook the Horton's straight up to an IV for you to help you recover quicker.

Stay tuned for the inevitable video tape.

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