In Which Events Take an Unexpected Turn
It appears that fucktards are to be found the world over, as we discovered when our host threw us out of his flat. I'm not sure whether it was because we didn't want to go to the hockey game with him, leaving him out of pocket by fifty bucks per head, or because Mrs Farty told him to ditch his crack-whore good-for-nothing thieving girlfriend before she sold off everything he had for drugs. Anyway, we moved in with his pot-smoking daughter and her trailer-trash husband, who made us feel somewhat more welcome by giving up their bed for us. And driving us up to Whistler.
Whistler is a beautiful piece of unspoilt Canadian outback. Or was, until the ski resort was built. And they won their bid to host the 2010 Winter Olympics. Now it's more of a tourist trap. Still, they had nice chocolate-coated strawberries (at two dollars ninety-nine each, how many do you think we bought?), toffee apples and a great big (stuffed toy) grizzly bear. We stopped off on the way back down to take in the Brandywine Falls - simply breathtaking - then detoured through Stanley Park to see the black skwerls.
Still loving the Canada...
Farty, interesting acquaintances you both have. And well said Mrs. F.
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