Toronto, Canada.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.

But I must be dreaming out loud, because somehow the Lord has smitten us all with this awful plague.

Seventeen million pounds... sorry... kilograms... of snow, eh?

I keep oscillating between believing that global warming is bullshit and believing that I should be burning my wool clothing. I still can't decide.

Toronto seems to be having an identity crisis. It thinks it's Oslo. Perhaps it's the early winter blast. All I know is that everything here is clean, cool, well designed and ridiculously expensive.

I love it.

Chicago, USA

A complete train wreck.

The Jerry Springer show isn't high culture. You pretty much know what to expect the second that you walk in the door. That being said, it's impossible to truly understand the absolute depravity of the human condition that exists on that show.

The people on stage are not the real attraction. It's the audience members.

Tattoos on necks. A complete disregard for cleanliness and decency. Obese retarded people.

We sat in front of a homeless vagrant who kept belching and singing.

I still have no idea what the show was about.

There was plenty of fighting. Plenty of public nudity. Plenty of interventions waiting to happen.

But in the end, it was rather boring. Because you expect the unexpected... there's no surprise. It's all ridiculous. All absurd. All predictable.

Jerry Springer has been doing this show for 17 years now. I have no idea how he does it with a straight face.

I guess it's easier than being mayor.

Austin, USA

Austin, Texas has always been a vibrant combination of youth, music, energy and technology.

However, the word got out.


Suddenly, all these people who were told that "Austin is cool" have moved here.



The city is ripe with high-tech, high-rise condos. There are hip pan-asian health food boutiques. Everyone has a California drivers license, blond hair and excellent teeth.


It's like parachuting in to an episode of The Real World.


The whole city is obsessed with maintaining that edge, a remarkably difficult task.


Unfortunately, becoming 'hip' tends to outprice the truly hip away.

It's a double edged sword. Austin used to be 'cool', but there was extremely little to do.



Now, it seems that they've paved parking lot, put up a paradise.

Los Angeles, USA.

I stumble across Google's new Streetview and realize that I can wander around my neighborhood in Chicago even though I am sitting on a park bench roughly 2 thousand miles away.

We live in the future.

Am I the only one who is completely blown away by this?

Houston, USA.

"Do not reverse. Serious Tire Damage!"

I know that I should be deeply concerned about this, but thanks to the miracle of something called a 'loss damage waiver' there's really no consequence to hearing what the sound of four perfectly good tires blowing out at once would sound like.

Would they all pop at once?

Would the rental car company employees actually notice if I return the car on it's rims?

These are the ridiculous theoretical questions one asks oneself when it's 430 in the morning and one's brain cannot properly function.

There's no amount of coffee that can counteract the effects of three hours sleep. I guess eventually the brain catches up to the rest defecit. Perhaps it happens after breakfast? Perhaps it reaches equilibrium somewhere in the afternoon... perhaps it takes an entire day of Cheetos and VH1 to recoup?

The hallucinations hit once I get into the terminal.

It's a cow. Wearing a spacesuit. Waving the flag.

Houston, we have a problem.

Sacramento, USA.

A few off hours in beautiful Sacramento.

I figured I'd go say hello to the man in charge. Tell him how great a job he's doing.

One of the best things about the American system of government is that the people are truly empowered to challenge their elected officials to a hearty conversation in the halls of the legislature.

So, I walked in like I owned the place...

Felt kind of like John Connor....

It's not every day that you're more afraid of the 'secured' than the security.

New York City, USA.

The words "massive explosion" are not ones that you want to hear in the same sentence as "congested business area" or "right down the street".

There's a giant hole in the ground about thirty feet away from my window.

Apparently, it's was a buildup of steam.

I know nothing about how steam works. What I do know is that it took me ninety minutes to convince the police to let me into my hotel last night. The corner of Lexington avenue and 41st street is destroyed .

Room service tasted like asbestos.

People in New York are able to deal with anything. I expect someone to be outside selling T-shirts later on this afternoon.

New Jersey, USA.

"In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream. At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines. Sprung from cages out on highway 9,Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line. Baby this town rips the bones from your back. It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap. We gotta get out while we're young... 'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run."

Montreal, Quebec.

Three days. Two bachelors. One murder.

An amazing weekend in French Canada. A collection of my best friends and a room full of strangers wearing white.

All in all, a truly memorable weekend.

Montreal is without a doubt, the most fascinating place on earth.

I can't begin to explain all the highlights. Perhaps it was the thirty thousand people in the park for the Manu Chao show at the Montreal Jazz Fest. Perhaps it was the all night party at the Pound. Perhaps it was just the moment I realized that it was all actually happening.

Of course, narrowly avoiding getting shot in the streets of St. Henri was definitely unforgettable. We stumbled back to our place and heard some loud bangs. I figured it was just Canada Day fireworks.... then we saw the police cars and ambulance pull up alongside the building.

I'm extremely lucky to have such good friends and wonderful timing.

Chicago, USA.

They say that the truth is stranger than fiction.

It's not everyday that you can honestly say that you "tripped over a drunken foreign midget" last night. But it happens.

I really didn't see her behind me.

Perhaps she was trying to hide.

Perhaps she was trying to bite my knees.

Perhaps she was hoping for a massive insurance company payout.

Or perhaps she was just a really sweet little person minding her own business.

Either way. She hit the ground like a really small bag of potatoes.

Then, she couldn't get up. Like honestly, could not walk.

There comes a point where all you can do is look at your friends and try to get a read on the situation. Get some guidance on how to deal with what's going on. All I could see was wide open mouths. Sunglasses falling off of noses in disbelief.

I felt like I had killed an Oompa Loompa.

Suddenly, from the sidewalk... a frazzle of activity. Our little friend gets up... starts mumbling in drunken Spanish... screams out "Happy New Year!" and waddles away to get another drink.

I was done for the night.

Santa Monica, USA.

I love hotel people.

They are always smiling and always nice and always trained to make you feel like you are the most extra special person in the whole wide world.

They look interested in your rambling mumbo jumbo.

They care about how you feel.

They want you to have the bestest day of all time every single day in every single way.

They are deeply concerned about the weather.

They are deeply concerned about your towel and pillow preference.

Anything you say is treated as if it is the word of the prophet.

Walking through doors is like parting the red sea of door-holders and valet servants.

"Would you anything else Sir?"

"Uh huh."

Chicago, USA.

Mirrors just reflect the simple surface image.

They show you exactly what you want to see.

Chicago, USA.

I can't get the song "Night Birds" by Ryan Adams out of my head.

It's haunting. A tender ballad that explodes in a cachephony of reverb as the final verse rings out. A song where you can really feel the emotion. I think that it's his best work.

Meanwhile, we find ourselves in the midst of Chicago, a temporary beachside resort.

Days full of bike rides down the lakeshore and baseball games in the sunshine. Nights where the ceiling is punctuated by hundreds of LED lights, washing the lounge in synchronized style.

Summer is ready when you are.

San Francisco, USA.

There must be something in the water.

From the gold rush to the hippie movement to the dot-coms, San Francisco has always been at the center of American innovation.

I find it incredibly hard to sleep here. Not because of some pulsating urge to create but rather because of a somewhat-validated fear of the ground crumbling beneath my feet.

Everything's a trade off.

Boston, USA.

Ok. So America is in the midst of this nutrition craze.

Every food product on the market seems to be hyping up some nutritional information in order to sell massive quantities to good-intentioned folks who think that a Grande is a small.

Enter chocolate bar.

It's no small stretch of the mind for one to realize that chocolate bars aren't that great for your body.

However the bright people at chocolate-bar company have learned that by putting a "45% less fat" label on their artery clogging product, they'll sell more candy to those who really shouldn't be eating more candy.

45% less fat than what? Gravy?

They don't quite say. Which is ok.

People believe what they read and they rarely ask questions.

Chicago, USA.

A Social Experiment.

Two cups full of water are left in an office ... one labeled "Poison" and the other labeled "Not Poison".

People who walk by and are looking for a glass of water almost exclusively grab the cup labeled "Not Poison". Why?

It's a question of source validity.

For some reason, people believe the stranger who labeled (and, quite possibly also poisoned) the cups is telling the truth.

What would you believe?

Newark, USA.

Dear America.

Thank you for the increased security at the nation's airports.

Thank you for placing this clear and concise message that will undoubtedly make the evil foes of freedom think twice about packing fireworks in their carry on luggage.

Way to go, team.

Mission Accomplished.

Chicago, USA.

There's this ridiculous billboard up in the middle of downtown here in Chicago.

It went up a few days ago. Since then, it seems like every happily married couple in the city has been having second thoughts.

It may be the perfect advertisement.

It shows some pretty hot human bodies.

It uses humor.

It speaks a basic truth.

It has a great call-to-action.

It must be a sign of the times.

Sure, it makes me laugh.... but it makes me upset. "Till death do we part" has become "Till death or until something better comes along do we part".

That's pretty fucked up.

Chicago, USA.

The power of social networking becomes apparent when you start to think of all the actual people who are involved. No place is better to study this phenomenon than the center of an arena full of screaming Justin Timberlake fans. Twenty thousand screaming females. Twenty thousand posts just waiting to be uploaded to twenty thousand MySpace pages. Twenty thousand wireless leashes connecting twenty thousand opinions to one another. "Oh my God" gets digitized and flash-banged across the planet. You are not what you eat. You are who you know. Suddenly just the act of 'being there' makes you the coolest kid in class the next day. The not-so-subtle irony of posting this diatribe on a syndicated blog is not lost on the author whatsoever.

Chicago, USA.

The spring thaw happens.

The rhthym of life shifts from 6/8 into a steady 4/4.