Sunday, May 27, 2012

Prestige Worldwide II

When I was about 11 yrs old I  lived in North York, which is on the north end of Toronto.  In the summer we all used to play at this ravine, there was a small river and trails going through the trees .  It was great fun.  I often tried to coerce my Mom into letting me camp down there with my friends.  She never gave in.  Another great part about the ravine was this storm drain outlet into the creek. It was a huge tunnel that frequently poured  rain water into the creek that eventually drained into Lake Ontario.  We were able to get inside this huge sewer tunnel if the water was low.  There was a steel cage over the entrance but with a little work we could always crawl beneath it.  It wasn't gross and infested with rats as I had always imagined.  It was dark but not dark enough to scare us.  We could tunnel our way up for a while until we hit the  ladders that would take us up to the Man-Holes on the street above.

One time (my last time) we went down into the tunnels with some older kids.  They were all just sitting around near the entrance , too cool  I suppose to go all the way in.  Maybe they had done it too many times...I don't know.  So I crawl in, and I find this huge baseball sized piece of tarmac.  It's gotta be 6 lbs.  I guess I just wanted to see how far I could hurl it down the tunnel.  I wound up and fucking chucked it like I really meant it. I remember  the screaming.  It seemed like the screams began the exact moment the rock left my my hand.  I had hit the oldest, biggest and toughest of the boys right in the temple with my overhand asphalt curveball.  He cried like a much younger kid I thought.........but in his defense , there was a shitload of blood.  Blood. Blood . Blood. His blood.  Everywhere.  I also remember thinking if this kid doesn't come to kill me in the next few days, his parents will.  After a week of worry, I sort of forgot about it.  I hadn't heard he died, or  that he was looking for me.  So I took that as great news.  I haven't hit anyone with rocks ever since.

Yesterday I was on Facebook chatting with some dude from Belgium.  He informs that there is now an 8th Trappistine bier.  I was like 'cut the crap'..........for realsies?   There is now an 8th Trappist monestary/brewery .  Although it's not in Belgium, like those posers at De Koningshoeven in the Netherlands. (i'm just screwing around) but this one is in Austria.  I can't speak to the deliciousness of the beer but I do know one thing.  There is not a crappy Trappist beer.  Chimay is creamy good .  Orval, even tastier.  Westmalle Trippel being the best beer ever to pass my lips, but I can't wait to taste this .

I think me, Jimmi and Tom are going to have to pay another visit to the beer bistro soon.


  1. Did the kid ever come to pound you? Or was he preoccupied trying not to get brain damage?
    - Bree

  2. He never came to pound me. I think the head trauma gave him that thing that makes you forget.........