Horoscope Squatter

Tuesday, 2:00 pm, somewhere near Pape on the Bloor-Danforth line. Who is this douche clearly reading over your shoulder? I’m sorry, what’s your sign? No seriously, you can tell me and I’ll read your horoscope outloud for you, its no sweat, seriously. Okay, Mr. Sagittarius, do you happen to know the answer to eleven down? PERSONAL BOUNDARY, you say! Of course, how did I not get that? I swear, it was on the tip of my tongue. Say, you wanna meet up for lunch later? Hey, I know! Why don’t you come up to the cottage for the long weekend and meet my entire extended family? Now FUCK OFF AND GET YOUR OWN FREE NEWSPAPER! There’s only an entire pile of them under your seat there….