Did I Just Have Lesbian Sex?

Today we accomplished a Hamiltoe triple-threat: Lil John's Pizza (formerly known as Gorgis, pronounced "gorgeous"), McMaster University, and My Dog Joe. How do all of these Hamiltoe hotspots connect? They don't. But we were hungry, desperate for some theoretical academia, and needed coffee (Hayley's side note: apple juice).

Let's start with dinner. The Limeridge neighbourhood's most cherished pizza joint (formerly a dry cleaning facility, according to a reputable source - thanks, Mom) had recently changed names and we wanted to know the scoop. Our beloved pizza place, which had gotten us through many a late-night Monty Python - er, study session, was no more. Alas! Rest in peace, Gorgis....or...DO YOU?!? As it turns out, "Lil John's Pizza" is EXACTLY the same as Gorgis. Same menu. Same set-up. Same employees. When we spoke to Lil John (himself!), he told us that the only thing that had changed was the ownership. We rejoiced that we could still get our favourite pizza for just $6.99.  Huzzah!

 

LOVE OF OUR LIVES

Next, we took a trip to our alma mater, McMaster University. Let's get one thing straight - we love McMaster, more than one should ever love an institution. We travel there all too regularly, just to walk around and pretend to be students. Creepy? Quite possibly. We digress. One of our friends informed us about her Race Studies lecture, and we decided to go sit in...or so we thought. As Hayley hesitantly approached the professor at the beginning of class to discuss our presence, the following conversation took place:

H: "Hello, we - "
P: "After class!"
H: "But we were just wondering if -"
P: [mumble, mumble, mumble!]
H: "Okay...thanks..."

Despite this conversation, we decided to risk it all by remaining in class...only to find out several minutes later that we were in an Astrophysics class and that the actual Race Studies class was across the hall. Upon seeing our young, Congolese professor, Andrea decided that it was love, and proceeded to listen intently for the duration of the class, while Hayley inappropriately played M-A-S-H by herself. Oh, to be a McMaster student once more...

Finally, we found ourselves in the heart of Westdale at its finest lesbi...I mean, open-minded cafe, My Dog Joe. Shameless Zagat guide-esque recommendation coming up...right...now: If you go, get some freshly brewed coffee and a peanut butter cookie! And if you're traveling with Hayley or someone under the age of 10, opt for an apple juice and a brownie. Also, check out the local art on the walls!

All in all, another triumph for Hamiltoe. We ate, we learned, we coffeed.
Stay tuned, oh three followers; next up is a trip to Gallery on the Bay for some more local art, literature, wine, and cheese.

Chico and the Man

To begin our odyssey, we thought to ourselves "the GHA is so huge, such a colossal metropolis. Where to begin?" After seconds of serious consideration, an epiphany - of course! We wanted to start things off with a bang, so only Hamilton Mountain's most famous landmark would do. Devil's Punch Bowl? No sir. Sam Lawrence Park? Don't think so! That's right boys and girls - Hayley and Andrea paid a visit to Lime Ridge Mall.

Located just off of Upper Wentworth and (surprise!) Limeridge Road, Lime Ridge (different spelling, hmm...we don't know why either) Mall is a Hamilton institution. Wikipedia tells us that it opened in 1981, and who are we to question an online encyclopedia that anyone can edit? We have been going there to satiate our consumer desires since before we even knew what cameltoe was, thus it is obviously a place close to our hearts.

In an attempt to be more healthy this summer, we decided to start wogging (walk-jogging...emphasis on the walk) and swimming - immediately after our trip to the mall. Because of this, we showed up in clothing not quite up to the standards of Lime Ridge Mall (we'll let the picture speak for itself), where the prime demographic is scantily-clad 12-18 year olds and wearing sweat pants to go shopping is actually worse than having cameltoe. Nevertheless, we avoided the judgmental looks from the teenagers and pressed on to achieve one of the most difficult tasks known to womankind - looking for a swimsuit. Lime Ridge has a wealth of shops, however, so we were cautiously optimistic that we would find this grail.

DON'T JUDGE THE WINDBREAKER

First, we headed to Canada's own department wonder, The Bay. That is...the Hudson Bay Company. Yes, the same Hudson Bay Company that was bartering for furs 300 years ago. Clearly they haven't given up...swimsuits are OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE, omg. We don't know who has money to buy swimsuits for over $100, but whoever it is would you mind making a donation to Hamiltoe? We, uh, the cause really needs it.

Swimsuit shopping was a success, and after lingering a bit too long in the change room to hear some Kenny-G-went-to-Spain tunes (typical of too many department stores), we proceeded to the Solo Mobile booth, where we were schooled in matters of security. Apparently, it is not permitted to take the long-distance feature off of a phone plan without a form of I.D. "Sure," we said, "because Andrea's actually a super-villain named Chico, who's come here all the way from Mexico to sinisterly change a phone plan from long distance to local." Phone Man smiled, dazzled by our wit (or because he thought we were crazy...could've been either, really).

Thus concludes our first journey. We laughed, we shopped, we won a phone booth employee over with our Hamiltoenian charms, and we can't wait until Christmas when we oh-so-inappropriately visit Mall Santa, like we did as Hamiltoe youngsters. Maybe he'll get us $100 swimsuits...

It's Hammer Time

Shortly after completing our second degrees (combined running total: FOUR), we found ourselves unemployed and moneyless. With our friends spread out across the country, nay, the globe, we decided to embrace our current situation and embark on our own journey. This journey will be like no other. Starting immediately, we will be traveling around our home and native land, highlighting and exploring its many charming and sometimes sketchy hotspots. We've decided to combine this journey with our philanthropic tendencies. Well, give me an example of these tendencies, you might say. With Hayley's history of vaginal promotion and Andrea's reputation of snobbery, we shall promote Hamilton as a cameltoe-free society. In short, Hamilton has been called many things: the Hammer, Steel City, the Armpit of Ontario, and most recently...Hamiltoe. We call it home. Join us, dear reader(s?), won't you?