When we lived in Mimico we were constantly being filmed. Not us, mind you but Lakeshore Boulevard, where we lived. It was just skanky and dated enough to be used as an appropriate backdrop for any crime, slasher, immigrant-coming-of -age movie you could think of. It was New York on the cheap. Then we moved to Parkdale, where the gritty, crappy, crime genre remained, but the budget was bigger. And we’re used to it: trucks, lights, parking pylons just taken in stride. We saw Russell Crowe at the Starbucks, but as this is Toronto, after all, we didn’t let on.
Today The Douchebag was at the puppy rescue benefit with his girlfriend. I’ve written about him before, the guy who made scenes at a couple of local restaurants. Although he still looks like Gowan, I’m not sure if he really was the actor from Ghost Trackers. I think he runs a shoe store that features window dioramas full of penises. Who would ever think of shoes as phallic? Especially now. And like Dan’s psychotic former music teacher, since I’ve become tuned into his rhythm, I see him everywhere. Perhaps he’s writing his own blog about this middle aged stalker lady.
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