In which our intrepid hero learns that there is more to life than home cooking
I've lived in Vancouver all my life.
Well, apart from the 4 months i spent in the absolute craptastic town of Gold River, population 2300 where the liquor store was by far the largest store in town.
Or the 8 months I spent in Prince George, which admittedly wasn't bad except for the house that we had rented where the tenant in the basement suite turned out to be one of the biggest drug dealers in town.
Or the 4 months I spent in Nanaimo. Which I have surprisingly little bad to say about, if only because I lived with my sister and her husband.
Or the 8 months in Calgary, which I actually enjoyed, in spite of the fact out that me and a friend ended up renting a place in the local "fruit loop" and I had joked to the landlady that he was my bitch, since he was a student and I was working. And we both claimed to have girlfriends out of town that noone we met in Calgary ever saw.
Or the 6 months I spent in Edmonton. Fucking Edmonton. Enough said.
With such great experiences, the next move won't be a gong show, will it? Let's find out!
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