It’s Â pre-planned community. It’s rather lovely, actually. I mean, even if it’s suburban. Well, as suburban as a Toronto suburb could be, which is to say not really all that suburban at all because if I live in suburbs, I’d really like to have some land and maybe not have to pay $800,000 to live in it.Â But if you live further south of me, you’d realize just how made of ticky-tacky my community is. There are strategically placed parks and schools and and community centers and synagogues and mosques and sushi restaurants and bagel places and a Starbucks.
Yesterday I left my house to pick Isabella up from a birthday party. I plugged the unknown-to-me address into my GPS and allowed her and her crappy Australian accent to lead the way. But, you guys, MY GPS? I mean…I don’t even have the words.
So, naturally, I drew you a map to describe these events.
So, instead of logically having me pull out of my driveway, make a left, and then make a left three blocks down, it took me in a giant loop that involved a mothereffing TOLL ROAD. Yes, that’s right. I paid money to drive in a giant circle.
Dumbass Australian. I know she sitting there, mocking me. I mean, it least it she sounded all hot and Irish like Jonathan Rhys Meyers I could cut her a little slack, but, sadly, I think the Aussie is getting tossed to the curb today. Put a shrimp on the barbie. Or something.