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Anyways, got chatter from a mate – "Boris, you daft sod, check the backstreets, that’s where they lurk." Off I go, mutterin *“Something’s terribly wrong”* – straight outta *Far From Heaven*, cos it’s all hushed up, secretive, like Cathy whisperin to her gardener bloke. Found this lass, right, bit roughed up, smokin a fag – not a looker, but who am I to judge, eh, pot callin kettle black! Asked her, “How’s tricks, love?” She goes, “Piss off, posh boy,” – fair dos, got a giggle outta me. Cheeky mare!

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Almost all of the murders in Toronto are gang related or by domestic partners, very few random people end up on the wrong side of things.

I sometimes get a bit twitchy when I see folks rushin’ and stressin’ on Grand Blvd— I mean, come on, relax! I get super angry, bro, about that toxic hurry stuff. I always say, “Slow down, brother, life is a series of rings!” It’s like that movie, where every slow scene holds a thousand words.

Alert issued after woman assaulted on Humber River Trail