THIS ISN'T THAT GOOD, BUT I MADE A PROMISE TO MY LATE PROFESSOR, DR. LOVE

I feel like a real toad for defending Dan Brown so much a couple weeks back, because I just finished his latest, The Lost Symbol, and the only thing I "lost" was $25.99 plus tax and the hope that I'd come out of it knowing more about cool mysteries. Turns out the book is exactly the same as The DaVinci Code only it takes place in Washington and the bad guy has tattoos instead of albinism. Oh yeah, and unlike "the Code", nothing really happens in this book except a lot of talk about pyramids and magic powers, but with no actual pyramids or magic powers. Well there's one pyramid but it's small, so that doesn't count, no matter how many times the book urges you to "look at things differently". It's pretty much a "you can't judge a book by its cover" philosophy, which is fitting considering the cover of the Lost Symbol looks awesome, while it's actually a colossal waste of time wrapped in skunk fur and covered in fart spray.

Lucky for me, my life doesn't revolve around books, but rather rock n' roll and tasty treats, so the aftertaste of The Lost Symbol was quickly washed away with beef and wine at a private wedding ceremony I attended on Friday. The reception was at the University Club, which is place for lawyers and judges to go when they don't feel like partying with all the dumbos out there at the Keg or wherever else middle-aged people go to party. It was decked out in Group of 7 painting and servers in little bow ties, so I was just fine with spending the evening in my suit, pretending like I got a big case on my mind. The bathroom had a shoe buffer!

On Saturday I off course watched hockey and then took to the streets for Nuit Blanche, Toronto's answer to Nuit Blanche, which like berets and food with butter, started in Paris and was copied by everyone. We weren't really gung ho about the whole thing so we didn't go very far. We made sure to check out our friend's laundromat kaleidoscope, which was juuuuuust great. Everything else was too busy and far away, except the CN Tower in our window, so we came back and watched the end of Saturday Night Live where Lady GaGa was being her usual, straight-laced self.

On Sunday Liv's mom took us for a scenic drive to the Forks of the Credit, but the weather was typically "crusty", so we spent a lot of time in the car and then getting Mexican food back in Metropolitan Toronto, home of your Argonauts.

It's Sunday night and I feel severely lazy, so I think this post lacked the brash opinions and razor sharp wit that you're accustomed to, and heck, I didn't even include photos. Don't blame me though, you don't even pay for this service. I'm the "Renter's News" of the Internet.