O Canada. O Cold.
Plied with promises of fun bonhomie free beer, we agreed to travel with Charlie and Malinda to the bitter cold of Canada in the dead of winter, specifically Carnaval de Québec in—wait for it—Vieux Québec. For those who didn’t spend a year at finishing school, that’s Old Quebec.
Over the course of a few days, I watched my spit freeze in the air, was trapped on a sleigh ride with Rusty after a Beef-A-Reeno bender and almost managed to burn down a B&B.
This despite the fact that I was very clear with Charlie that I liked my spit viscous, my sleigh rides smelling of lilac and my places of rest to be non-combustible hotels.
