There wasn’t a cab driver in Cobourg that didn’t know that address in the 90’s. Some of the best times, with the best people happened right there. I don’t remember the exact circumstances of how I ended up being invited over there, almost every night, but I think it had to do with Mickey and the boys eating at the restaurant all the time.
It was a constant party there. I mean it. Someone was drinking there every night of the week. It was crazy. We did a lot of stupid shit at that house, like building a potato cannon and lobbing whatever fruits and vegetables we could stuff into it over the houses towards the lake. It was a few streets back, so I doubt any of them made it, but when you are hammered at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, your trajectory knowledge of Lysol propelled produce is not at it’s peak.
I remember the day that Rocket and I finished the cannon. We were so excited, that we couldn’t wait to go to the store and buy potatoes, so we raided Mick’s fridge and cupboards. we got peaches, lemons, apples and potatoes. We had a cut off hockey stick as a ramrod, and an electronic BBQ sparker as our ignition source. It was pretty slick, let me tell you. Continue reading