I went home to Toronto for a few days and found myself making plans with too many people and then only following through with a few. Morty‘s one of ’em. I’ve known him for a decade. It’s always comforting to be around those who’ve been around before you’ve been around the block. Before the banal, before the baggage, before the blogs.
This vine on his ceiling has been growing for five years and we’ve only just met. Last time I saw anything dangling in his bedroom it was two ladies eclipsed by a closed door.
Now he uses his boyish good looks and Upper Canadian charm to coax salad from seeds. He fed me a kale leaf plucked from the ancient Chinese clay and tilapia rig he’s got because he’s the G.O.A.T.
Know what else is great?
The fact that he gives out free unadultered advice to weirdos.
And since I hear he’s single, maybe he just needs the right one to call.