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So, yes, last night I worked my way down to King St. to join Steve "Conan" Trustrum and some members of the Sunday Game (currently on hiatus, although considering the scarcity of the Spycraft game, not for long) for An Evening with Kevin Smith: Smack My Podium Down.

Yes, I know that most of you (the Charlie Churches at least) don't dig Kev-Boy, but I'm a fan. So, after a disappointing dinner at the Peel Pub (you want a tip, waiter boy? Try getting me my RIGHT ORDER. How's THAT for a tip?) we sashayed over to RTH for the festivities.

I enjoyed myself, anyway. Really, it's all dick and fart jokes, when you get down to it, but what's important is he amused me, and mocked every one of the bitches who tried to hit him up to read their script. "Just finish it, okay?"

Mewes looked different. Much more subdued than I recall. And brunette. He cleans up REAL good. Who knows. I might just watch their Degrassi episodes.

I was amused, but had to leave to catch the bus.

Good thing I left when I did, too. Got to Union and asked when the next Milton bus left.

"Three minutes," was their reply.

Sweet Jebus. And it was the local, too, not the one that takes the 427/401 to Meadowvale and goes from there.

Bed by 1:30. Fun.
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