If all the stereotypes are true, then...

Chinese men are unemotive. Chinese women are annoying.
Jamaican men are assholes. Jamaican women are bitches.
White North American men are fags. White North American women are dykes.
Easter European women are boring. Eastern European men are manipulative.
French men are pricks. French women are depressing.
Italian women are sluts. Italian men are childish.
Hungarian Jewish men are gullible. Hungarian Jewish women are beautiful.

************

Walked around Queen and Roncesvales today for the first time since I was too young to remember it. It seems that when the party's happening (it's Pride weekend in Toronto) I'm as far away to the fringes as I can get. Nonetheless, it's a strange looking corner on the extremity of the city, almost unbefitting to Toronto, since it's not every street corner that opens up to a massive lake. It's probably as close to "seaside town" as Toronto can get. Ended up eating various grilled pannini sandwiches at a place called Daddio's or something to that effect. The place was more or less a tribute to the movies and mid-century life, run by aging but nice artrock hippie geeks. They had names for all their sandwiches there, and we ate "The Godfather", "The Haight-Ashbury" and another Godfather. I guess it was the Godfather II. Anyway, we were talking about Jason movies for some reason and the counter clerk (who looked like a strange Pride weekend love-child of Ryan Larkin and Crispin Glover) piped in to confirm to us that yes, indeed, they had made a Friday the 13th in space. There was nothing totally special about the place, but the food was excellent lunch fare. The place is a bit of consumer art project, it seems, one of those throwback retro restos "gentrified for your convenience", as my friend Pete M. might say, in the middle of a run down edge of downtown.



I noticed that most parts of the city are relatively quiet (with the exception of some of the more Pride oriented sectors). The heat is rather terrible today, one of those barely tolerable spells that borders on intrusively uncomfortable. I suppose the festival will be braved by many despite the elements, as it is one of the largest parties in the city, and if not the largest, then certainly the most youth-driven of the bunch. As a bonus, it's very accessible to those who do not identify as Queer. You do not have to alter your personality to fit in, so long as you are tolerant and open to sexualities that might be different from your own. Caribana, on the other hand, is so hardcore Caribbean that you feel like a bombarasclat just being there. Being a Heeb with a predilection for pre-1970s reggae and a taste for veggie-patty wrapped in coco bread does not make you tight with dancehall yardies. It don't work for Matisyahu and it don't work for me.

Heat, smog...This is not the Toronto I remember from childhood. I guess a place can really change over the course of fifteen or twenty years. But hey, at least the Caribbeans and the Queers stayed!