It’s officially summer in Vancouver. How can I tell? I threw a bag of
trash in the dumpster this morning, schlepped over to London Drugs and
ten minutes later when I came back to my building, someone was ripping
apart my garbage in the back alley. Mmm. Junkalicious. There was
definitely something zen about watching used dental floss (my used dental floss) drift down towards English Bay in the oh-so-soothing summer breeze.
Anyway,
this is day two of what I’m beginning to call Dumpstergate. It’s a
scandal a minute back there, people. Yesterday, while waiting in a
truck out back, some friends and I watched a man (you guessed it)
ripping open garbage bags, discover a can of hairspray, spray his hair,
“scrunch” his curls in and then scream: What the f%#k are you looking
at?
A Happy Canada Day to you, sir. And for the record: we were looking at you.
Traumatic?
Not really. Yet hardcore enough that I dreamed about it all last night,
though strangely enough, instead of looking like this:
My dream dumpster diver looked more like this:
(PS
I joke because I love you, Chris Farley. I kid I kid…However, I’m not
joking with you, torn-shirt guy with a killer body and a penchant for
“distressed” underwear. You better come back and visit my dream
dumpster tonight…or else)
Why you can trust Xtra
