Well that was fun

sliding into Vancouver just as its citizens poured to English Bay, and finding our parking spot and room waiting for us at The Sylvia Hotel only feet away

from the festivities, whatever they were.

We

then walked out into the throng to wait for the fireworks to begin. Among the gazillions the cigarette, cigar, marijuana smoke and underaged drunkenness. Families and little old ladies with card tables and cards staked claim hours ago, and they all sat with their coolers of food and drink. Others squeezed along arterials through the crowd toward food vendors and other people, adorned in blinking bunny and devil ears, or blinking neon earrings and necklaces, so they could find each other.

What a fucking crazy scene.

No blue.

One guy next to us yelled, "Rock it Canada!"

So many people looked trashy.

Andrew says it's because the government dole is so good here.

I think maybe the not-so-cosmopolitan migrate from the sticks for this show

Whatever it was

We never asked

And it's better that way

Not to know—

When it was over the park rose and, we along with it, flowed inland, looking for food. A whole city clotted, reabsorbed, and again coursing sanguine.

Head after head, he'd not seen it like this, but it was Myong-dong every night.