Well gentlemen, after a grueling trip through some of the lowest and darkest places in Toronto, through the subway, riding on buses with some of the most miserable scum I've ever seen, and a taxi cab driven by a man who has lived here for over 13 years and can barely speak the language, I have my after action report:
It's not all that bad, once you get into the mostly white enclave that is her school.
Driving down Hwy. 115 towards Toronto
The trip was probably the worst part. I took the instructions I was given to an incompetent woman at the GO Transit after driving myself there, the GO Transit station handles both train and bus fares, and has terminals for both. I told her exactly where I wanted to go in Toronto, and she charged me $15 and gave me my ticket. I came back and asked her, "is this for the 5:40 (PM) train?" to which she replied, "no, it's for the 5:21, it's waiting there now, get on it."
I should have clued in then, I assumed the train was running early, and thought nothing of it. I took my seat at the top of train 2224.
The corn has not been growing very well due to the cold summer.
As the train began rolling there were few people on the train, along the way a few older whites, a young white couple, and a dozen assorted blacks and Asians hopped on at the different stops. I had assumed, being somewhat of a novice on the GO Train system (last time I went I was with Sarah and we went to the ROM in Toronto), that my destination, one "York Mills Bus/Subway Terminal" would be part of the train's route. As the train passed through Union Station and kept on, I began to have some doubts.
On the train, beside a Union Pacific.
About 2 hours later, I was near Hamilton, way off from my destination. Something had gone wrong. As it turned out, I was never meant to get on a train in the first place. The woman at the desk and myself had forgotten to notice that the "35" was actually a bus route. York Mills was not part of the train system, and I was evidently screwed. I asked a man at a desk at the Appleby station near Hamilton how to get to York Mills. He told me I needed to go back to Union, take about 3 subways and arrive in York Mills. The time at this point was near 8:00 PM, and the last York Mills bus to Sarah's school left at 9:40 PM. I had no time to lose.
The subway was one of the worst experiences of my life. The first two were alright, I spoke to an older man about construction and whatnot, and while I was telling my unfortunate story to him, a dark skinned Indian gave me a pamphlet with all the times for the different buses. Turned out that there was a bus leaving Yorkdale at 10:40 PM, which gave me just enough time to make it (Yorkdale was closer than York Mills and the last bus had already left York Mills).
The last one I was quite literally the only white on board. One nigger was sitting across from me, another beside me with a door in between and one diagonally from me. They were all staring at me, nodding to each other and speaking unintelligible Ebonics. I realized they were all wearing identical camouflage shirts and I thought I was going to have to fight my way out of there. What I ended up doing was putting on a grimace, white knuckling my subway schedule and staring at the one across from me dead in the eyes the entire route. They all looked pretty worried by the end of that. They didn't bother attacking me. They wouldn't have gotten much, anyways. I travel light.
It was a filthy bus terminal. There were a group of shitskins sitting directly behind me dancing their crude dances and singing hop-hop.
After arriving at Yorkdale, I bought my ticket, which was only $4 dollars, and patiently waited for my bus. I went into the public bathroom and noticed that the popular graffiti tag these days was "teenagers have no future." and went to business. I also noticed a pair of sig runes carved into the ceramic tile on the wall.
10:40 PM rolled around and no bus showed. I asked the man at the desk what was happening and he told me that it was running late. I spoke to a young white man about the busing system and he told me he didn't think a bus ran this late on a Sunday. I took a look in my pamphlet and to my horror realized that the bus I had waited for only ran Saturday on weekends. Distraught, I went over to the man behind the desk and got my money back, he was truly sorry, and pointed me in the direction of an ATM. Looks like I was taking a cab.
The cabbie was a dark skinned central Asian. He charged me about $32 from Yorkdale to the campus. Upon arriving, Sarah was nowhere in sight. I went to the woman at the desk, an obese niggress, and asked her to call Sarah. She did, twice, with no answer. Eventually I got the negro guard (a very old man, who asked me questions like: "is she white" and whatnot) to break almost every rule in his book and took me up to Sarah's room. Sarah was not in that room, but thankfully she was just next door, watching the movie "A Princess Bride" with her friend Cassandra. She was pretty happy to see me, I was over 5 hours late (it was around 2 in the morning by this point, which is why I didn't get many photos). The only real interesting bit of depravity I saw, was while I was waiting down in the lobby, when a large group of smokers who were outside erupted into chants of "party on floor 6" and barging their way into the building. One guy even took his shirt off and a few were grabbing at me trying to pull me into the fray. These kinds of parties, as it turns out, Sarah would not nor ever want to partake in. The only party she had gone to (that her friends dragged her to) was an all girl (and the guy who took his shirt off) party.
Having negro children is active.
Being with Sarah, and seeing the life she's living there, put my mind mostly at ease. She's practically filled her life with work, athletics and is starting a card club. She's lectured most of her friends about being promiscuous and I totally underestimated her.
Composition of the population.
Shalom! Saw this Khazar on the way back.
Something white men apparently need.