Well the Great Toronto Garbage Strike is finally over.
And despite all the screaming and wailing by right-wing ninnies we actually managed to survive. The Bubonic Plague didn't kill us before the Swine Flu does. And the rats didn't eat us.
In fact, the only real stench in the air was a lot of overheated anti-union rhetoric from a bunch of crabby whiners .....and their cheerleaders in our right-wing media.
Like living in Hell? Give me a break. Inconvenient maybe. But apart from having to haul our garbage to the dump by the dock on my bike, the only thing I really noticed was that my island was eerily quiet....
The ferries weren't working so the thousands of people who visit it every week didn't come.
The concessions were closed.
So you couldn't buy an expensive slice of pizza anywhere.
And so was this humble little amusement park.
Which was sad because 400 people...mostly students... work here every summer.
On the other hand I didn't mind having the nude beach practically to myself.
Because I'm shy about sharing that kind of beach.
Just like this little turtle...
Who took advantage of the peace and quiet to lay her eggs in broad daylight.
Which reminds me of the only really bad thing that happened during the strike.
My pet raccoon Rocket disappeared...and was last seen heading for the
To be honest, I don't really miss him that much eh?
But my dog is DEVASTATED.
Oh well. I'm just glad the strike is over.
Welcome back people.
Come home Rocket...
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UPDATE: Some Con hacks on the City Council are trying to sabotage the deal. Which only goes to show you that no garbage is quite as stinky as a filthy ratty Con...
