Back to Toronto after 10 days in the wilds with the friendly, neighbourly, sunburnt homo-savages at The Point. Many point form stories to relate:

Not one drop of rain fell. We arrived after the rain ended on Thursday night and from that moment on the weather was clear and warm, resulting in my half-Italian skin going as dark as a cheap cherrywood cabinet from Ikea. The nights were clear and we had amazing moon rises a few nights. We lucked out again!

The homo-savages were fun and friendly and ready with a smile and a wave. It’s such a different vibe to any kind of community I have ever lived in. Everyone shares: bottle openers, candles, bug spray, boyfriends, information about boyfriends, boyfriend’s tents, etc. Coming back to Toronto is always a shock since I now have to stifle a smile and not say “hello!” to every stranger on the street. I’d be locked up in seconds if I did. The campground was very busy the long weekend and the weekend after (Bear Jamboree) but extremely quiet in between, making it crazy, relaxing and then crazy again.

If you ever get the chance to party with Sloppy Joe of Sloppy Joe Video, I suggest you do. He’s fun. Serious fun. Goats are fun too. Firing crow-pecked cucumbers with a 10ft slingshot is fun. Corn mazes are fun. Small town, ultra-ameture backyard wrestling at fairgrounds is fun. Expect pictures.

I made a new friend. His name is Jack Daniels.

The stay was not without drama:

One over-stuffed Seasonal queen (she pads her skimpy white bathing suit with some sort of potato/yam) thought she could just walk into the pool on the Saturday of the busiest day of the year and get her usual loungers. Of course they were taken and she was forced to sit by the (shudder) far wall… She proceeded to wave her pretentious finger in my face accusing me of not holding back on the hordes of non-regular guests who were up hours before Miss Beauty Sleep to claim their chairs around the pool. Supposively I did this last year. What Queen Chlorine Shock didn’t realize is that another volunteer couple did that ONCE last year to much complaint, so the policy was changed to allowing people to enter the pool deck while the pool was being cleaned, they just couldn’t enter the water. I pointed this out to her with the same finger-in-the-face pointing. Within an hour, the entire campsite knew I had sassed her.

Wednesday morning we woke to find that our rear driver side tire had been slashed as well as our next door neighbour’s driver side tire. This was well before the Potato-Swimsuit Queen incident, so get that out of your mind. The investigating officer (a lovely Scottish woman with three facial peircings – ach!) used the word Hate Crime. If it was someone drunk or high from inside the park (lord knows who…) then that would be a self hate crime, I guess.

The good news was that the owners have offered us a small pop-top camper that has been abandoned for a couple years. We’re going to check it out this weekend. I bet after 3 years being sealed and under a tarp, it’s going to have some damage. How much is anyone’s guess. I hope there’s a body in it!!

In all, a fantastic summer vacation, thanks!

What have you guys been doing?

Sharkboy and I are walking up Church Street and we pass a woman outside an old office building yanking on a string that went up to a third floor window. I thought was just an old banner rope from Prides Gone By, but apparently it’s a doorbell of sorts! How very archaic!

I said, “I now know where to play ‘Nicky Nicky Nine Doors’ on Church Street.”

“What’s that?” asks Sharkboy.

“I’m sure you have a variation on this kid’s game, whatever you called it in Quebec: ring the bell, run off peeing your pants laughing.”

“Yeah, we called it ‘Ring the Bell and Run Off Peeing Our Pants Laughing.” He then went on to explain that he had a reverse game while living in Montreal. From the saftey of his apartment, he could use the two way intercom to comment on people’s attire and sexuality as they walked by. And it was all the more funnier when you messed with the masculine/femine articles. Oh those distinct society Quebecois!

I’m sure you all, my 5 or 6 readers, use to call this bell-ringing game something else?