I'm going to write this in point form, because writing it in paragraphs is just far too taxing.

1 – I was walking passed (not in) the XXX-Rated Sexy Hot Foxy Foxy Stoaty Video Store on Yonge and Wellesley.

2 – I, and a few others were suddenly showered with broken glass.

3 – The cause of the broken glass was a guy smashing his way out of the store (via the window on the left in the rubbish photo below) with a baseball bat.

4 – Then he turned to us and 'told us' in no uncertain terms that if we shouted for help he'd kill us.

5 – After a few seconds he ran off towards Wellesley station, I had to pass Wellesley station to get home and saw an ambulance and a couple of police cars.. I hope he didn't do anything horrid to someone.

Despite all that I did splash out on this..

On the subway this morning an awfully proper looking gentleman strolled onto the train, plonked himself down and pulled the following leaflet out of his fancy black leather briefcase..

I managed to stop myself giggling long enough to take a foxy/stealthy photo with my phone.

Then I burst out laughing.

Knew foram.

**FORUM:RD92T4MWMH5EZSWS1**

Oh, I crumbled a few days ago and shaved my head..

Apologies for the partial yet gratuitous nudity.

I don't think about death a lot, but I've just spent the last hour or so wandering the streets listening to Daniel Johnston and it made me wonder how I'd like people to remember me once I've gone, and what legacy I'd like to leave behind.

It sounds pretty simple and rather unambitious (if ambition has anything to do with this, which I don't believe it does) but all I'd really like is for people to smile, maybe roll their eyes, but ultimately understand that through everything I did my best to make people happy.

Even if sometimes I get it/got it utterly wrong, which is the case.