THE PEARS ARE IN THE COFFEE CAN AND MY PANTS ARE ARE HANGING OFF THE HARP

If you live in Toronto right now and you're going through a break up or something equally sad bad, then this weather is for you. It's like there's a perfect movie set waiting just outside your door every day, complete with thunder, lightning and tons of RAIN. So if you're crying by candlelight, ripping out the pages of your diary and eating ice cream, why not go for a dramatic walk/run through the rain for the full experience? It reminds of this classic scene from one of my favourite movies:



When I watched Ernest Goes to Camp as a boy, that scene always tugged at my heart strings. Nobody gave a shit about Ernest. They all used his ass.

Lucky for me I'm in a stable relationship and my cat is still alive, so I didn't get to run through the rain crying with no umbrella while a moody rock song plays in the background. But for interest's sake here's what I learned this weekend:

LESSONS FROM LEISURE - THE WEEKEND AS A TEACHER

On Friday I was at Comedy Bar and the bar's owner, Gary, taught me that whenever you fight a guy you always kick his shins first no matter what.

On Saturday I went to Andy's family BBQ, which proceeded despite the obligatory rain. I learned that family BBQ's are very important when you get older because they're the best opportunity for everyone to get together. No one can turn down a BBQ especially when there's a unlimited beers and endless meats and salads around.

At night I went to Pauper's to celebrate the birthdays of two co-workers. I learned that I enjoy Mixed Martial Arts, but only when it's on TV and not when it's happening outside the Beer Station involving a homeless man and some young guy who shouldn't have been punching a homeless man - I thought that was like an unwritten rule.

On Sunday I learned that it can rain all the time for two summers straight. I was going to go see a comedy show but then it poured for an hour so I stayed home, wrote what you're reading and made a sizable dent in Harlan Coben's "Hold Tight", one of the shittiest books you'll ever read. But much like The Real Housewives of Orange County, I seem strangely attracted to it and can't seem to put it down despite its cliches and horrible plot holes. There's mention of this character who was this guy's stoner friend and his name is "Weed". That's like calling a guy who does cocaine all the time "Cocaine" or "Powder".