This Week
My working view, first thing in the morning, every morning. Chucks ass hole is a lot worse in real life then this photo could ever describe.
Dave’s kitchen after a night of partying. Another good party missed.
Hamilton crack rocks. They actually do come in bright, sparkling colours, like this illustration by a local children’s book writer who happens to be a regular at the bar.
Sunday morning brunch
Boiled egg, pan fried tempeh, lettuce, Franks, cold salmon salad, spinach wrap.
Edamame, celery, carrot, corn and cherry tomato salad.
Dragon fruit aka dalmatian meat. I know I know, sick, and not funny.
Wellington St. N
Ooops. Someone forgot to take down their holiday decor.
One thing I can’t stand is when people leave up their Christmas lights all year long and then just turn them on during the holidays. How fucking lazy can you be that you can’t just climb up there and take them down so that you don’t have plastic reindeer and primary coloured bulbs on your lawn in the middle of July? They fade in the sun and it just look’s tacky as hell. This isn’t Florida, it will never look cool or be a ‘trend’, and there is no excuse. Paraplegics excepted.
This house in particular get’s an A for trying something new and incorporating Hamilton’s image into their outdoor holiday decor.
Turning the corner, we make our way onto Barton St. We decided to check out the Barton Street jail and get in there by pretending to do research for a school project. The exterior of the jail looks like a polluted Emerald City with it’s towering brown brick sections, neatly paved cobble stoned Ferguson St. (ironic because down the street, on the opposite end stands the Wesley Center) to the left, and steel factory smoke from a distance tying in the entire placid image of Hamilton’s finest.
Inside tells a different story. Everything is outdated, crumbling. At least from what I could gather at the main entrance. You are greeted by posters which stress that everyone must go through the metal detector upon entering. We finally get in after a confusing, and muffled conversation through the intercom. The buzz-haired, well-built lady behind the glass enclosed counter motions for us to come closer, skipping the metal detector. After repeating the procedures on how to get a tour of the jail several times, she slips us the number to the security office and instructs us to call Monday morning after 10am.
After hearing numerous stories about this jail from customers that have spent plenty of time there, I need to see it for myself. Some of them even offered to get themselves arrested just so I could have a legit excuse and someone to visit. How sweet.
Mary St.
Bonanza Bakery
100 Murray Street East Hamilton
(905) 529-2227
Awesome, awesome, little bakery in the middle of a residential street. The rest of the street is literally houses, and this little hidden gem keeps the parking tight. Small, extremely busy during breakfast and lunch (a lot of cops and fire fighters make pit stops here). Grab and go, as cheap as it gets, hot and cold stations, and the portions are incredible for what you’re paying; good, solid, home cooked food.
Breaking in to get a better view of the train tracks.
Kiss kiss. Bang bang.
James. St
Wild Orchid
286 James St. N
http://www.wildorchidrestaurant.ca/
Recommended for seafood lovers. Warm, open, atmosphere. Pricy but worth it.
Asian market off of Cannon St. (Cannon & James). Great for specialty tea’s and testing your pallet.
Cannon St. E
This is when we started to make our way back. It was like minus 12, and I don’t even know how I convinced my self this morning that I could bare a couple hours worth of walking in weather like that. I can’t even explain to you what happens to me in the cold. Not only does my body shut down, but my mind floats around, dreaming of heat, not concentrating on my surroundings to the least. I thought for the longest time it had to do with smoking, and killing my capillaries, but maybe I’m just cold blooded. Whatever it is, I know I turn into an evil, evil person in the cold. And I mean like a completely different version of myself. The cold is my kryptonite, no lie. The only thing that gets me back is a hot bath, so we walked back and that’s the first thing I did to revive my spirits before we continued.
Weird Stuff
1355 Main St E Hamilton
905-548-9111
Definitely one of my favourite places in Hamilton. Viktor, the shop owner who reminds me of a Norwegian Count, knows everything about everything in that little shop. Over the years I have found some of the coolest pieces to enhance photo shoots and others that remain in storage until I settle and can fill my house with them.
Complete human skeleton with an impeccable set of teeth.
Urkel anyone?
Ashante’s cool finds.
Back to Mulberry.
A reaction to…..
….this…..which is a blonde moment for the history books. Ashante has been watching too many Clueless episodes and playing with her dolphin and I…well I don’t really have an excuse for this one. All I’m going to say is White House.
To baka’s house we go.
Typical but cute.
Happy Birthday Shelly! The hottest 50 year old I know.
IT’S OVER. FINALLY.
Yukon Ron after a bottle of Yukon Jack, couple shots of vodka with lemon juice, probably about four bottles of Black ICE and rolling down three flights of stairs on New Years.
The Hamilton Farmers Market. More to come soon.
The view of my neighborhood from the back porch.
I love shit like this but I’ve made a promise to myself to stop buying and overcrowding my storage room with unnecessary, useless things that I will never use. My friends and family strongly believe I will end up on Hoarders one day and I’m starting to believe it so it’s time to nip it in the bud.
Pepsi Rick keeps it real.
- January 16 2012 | 1 Notes - Read More →
