We're not lost, we're exploring

After the Broken Pencil launch at Toronto Free Gallery on Thursday, only Sean, Alison and I set out for a walk. We went west over the bridge, then south into the industrial area, where we saw a lot of raccoons and old warehouses that haven't been turned into condos yet, then we turned east on Eastern Ave. It was the part of Eastern that's like a highway, with no sidewalk, but a broad concrete divider between the two lanes in the centre of the road -- so that's where we walked. "Funny place to put a sidewalk," Sean noted. The best thing was that we were not, in fact, the only party of hipster freaks walking down the centre of Eastern at 10:30 at night. There were 2 guys about half a block's distance ahead of us. One of them was wearing a suit, the other was barefoot in khakis and a t-shirt, and they appeared to be bickering.

Farther along Eastern we saw the above sign. Mmmm tasty! We also passed the Hell's Angels HQ, and then for the rest of the evening we kept seeing groups of guys on motorbikes zooming past us -- we must have seen two dozen of them -- so maybe some kind of meeting was going on.

We got agreeably lost on the Martin Goodman trail -- at one point we could see the downtown skyline spread out before us, all bright and twinkly, but we were surrounded by meadows and chickenwire fences and the Don, and we had no idea where we were or how to get back to transit-serviced civilization. So we just kept walking, until we unexpectedly found ourselves at the Distillery.

Waiting for the King streetcar at Parliament St., I looked up and noticed this: an eerily-lit mask peering out of an upstairs window. I pointed it out to the others, and they were all, "What am I looking for, here? I don't see what-- AAAAAIGH!" Spooky!