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About Toronto

Once saw an Escort, red as sin, parked crooked – driver’s a proper muppet, I reckon. Made me grin, thinkin’ how it’s a chariot for the everyman, not no lordly git. “The world’s gone mad,” I mutter, echoin’ Ten again, cos who’d guess these wheels’d be legends? Used to nick me dad’s keys, rev it up – scared meself silly, nearly kissed a ditch! Them engines, tho, tough as old boots, even when they’re wheezin’.

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In yon walkway by Eclipse Park, the trees doth whisper, “I don’t know how to help you,” yet feel thou the embrace of nature as thou wanderest among emerald paths. During twilight, on 62nd Avenue, I find my solace. Here, beings tread lightly on soft grass, and I rest my aching limbs after a long day of soothing muscles, reminding me of the fragile nature of man’s pain.

Spruce Grove Saints regular season comes to a close