The Delta Chelsea

That’s where we are spending Saturday night this weekend. I’d like to take this moment to thank the McBrowns for that. I guess this means I owe you guys a foot massage or something.

Anyhow, like I said before, we are staying at the Delta Chelsea in Toronto for Saturday night. Kind of a little honeymoon extension, seeing as we didn’t get much of one last week.

Looks like a hotel to me.

The Delta Chelsea holds a little bit of my heart, and has since I was a kid. I was maybe ten years old I guess, and that was the last time I’ve even seen that hotel, let alone stayed there.

It was one year in the early eighties, and my dad and step-mom packed us six kids into the Honda Civic station wagon and booked her for the big city. We were pretty excited, because we were going to do all sorts of cool shit. Ontario Place, maybe the ROM, Centre Island, and we were going to be eating in restaurants!!!. The world was our oyster in every way imaginable.

This trip was also going to provide some alone time for the adults, because the hotel had a free daycare for the guests.

Bullshit, right?

That’s what I thought too, until I met the girl that was running the joint there.

She was my first real crush.

I don’t even remember her name. I don’t need to. I remember her essence, and that’s all that matters.

This one’s much nicer, but roughly the same thing.

She introduced me to Elvis and Kenny Rogers…wait for it…with Dottie West. Those were the only two cassettes that were there with the old tape recorder. From Elvis in Memphis and Classics were what I listened to with that extremely hot chick always sitting close by. I was totally smitten, and I don’t care who knows it. I would make up lies, just to have a subject to talk to her about, and for some reason I thought this beautiful high school girl would totally go for the scrawny, gawky ten year old that was yours truly. You can add delusional to that list now too I guess.

So to make a long story short, When it was time to go, I cried. I don’t think I had ever cried like that before. I know I haven’t cried like that since. I honestly thought that my world was over. I probably told my dad to just leave me there, and I’d live at the hotel forever. I was fucking distraught is what I was.

Add about two dozen other heartbreaks over the years, and I found that I was quite hardened to the fact that girls didn’t like me. I was so homely that Mom had to tie a pork chop around my neck to get the dog to play with me, and I was so overtly forward as a child, that most girls got scared and ran away. It didn’t stop me from trying, but it made my heart sort of immune to the breaking up part.

Anyhow, I’m very excited to get back to the Delta Chelsea, and see if the same girl is running the daycare. If she is, I may try to talk Mrs. Birdman into a threesome with her. I mean, come on. Do you think she isn’t going to be happy to get it on with a forty year old, now that she’s around forty five or so? Of course she is, and it will also help me work through the feeling of loss I felt those many years ago. Yay for therapy.

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I saw was the sun through yellow curtains, and a rainbow on the wall,


P.S. The first week of Dude Write is over, and I got six nods. Apparently I should have been pandering to you guys for votes or something. I’m not going to do that, mostly because I can’t bring myself to do it, but also because I am not the best writer over there.

I’m one of those people who gets a message on Facebook to go and vote for someone’s kid, dog, or spouse, so that they can win a shitty piece of jewelry or a free photoshoot, and I go vote for someone else. Fuck you, and your goddamn cheating ways, if your baby was really cute, you wouldn’t have to beg, would you?

“But Birdman, everyone else is cheating too.”

Like I give a shit. I don’t play poker when I know someone’s cheating, why should I compete in a competition full of cheaters? The answer is that this isn’t a real competition. This is a bunch of great writers, that are trying to get people aware of their brand of awesome. I have seriously found at least six new blogs that I love, and can’t wait to pick away at them. I am honoured to have even got those six votes that I got, but more honoured to have had a couple dozen new readers on my page. Pretty awesome shit, if you ask me.

But wait, I do have a huge favour to ask of you.

Hold on, it’s not what you think. I would like you to tell me your favourite post (if you have one), for me to submit in this weeks competition. I have some that I absolutely love, but I want to put one in that appeals to everyone. You can submit it to me in any way that you like. If you have my number, text or call me. If you don’t have it, contact me, and I’ll give it to you.

Thanks friends, I really appreciate all that you do,


Hold on again. Did I mention Paypal before?

I’ve taken down all of the ads. I’m just going to stick with free advertising from now on. What I’m going to do is add a Paypal button. Don’t feel like you need to use it, but if you just came into a huge settlement on your insurance claim for when that kielbasa got vacuumed into your bunghole, and you felt like shooting a sawbuck my way, you could do that.

I have had ads on here for a while, and I made precisely $0. I figured that this way, I can make $0 and have a lot less annoying ads on here. You also never know. One of you could win a shitpile of cash, and feel the need to repay me for all of the hours of mirth and merriment that I have undoubtedly treated you to for all these many months. Probably not, but it’s worth a shot.

Anyhow, as soon as I figure out how to do it, I’ll be getting that up here.

Love you,

BM (BTW, that doesn’t stand for bowel movement)

8 thoughts on “The Delta Chelsea

  1. Okay. First of all, why’d you have to call out us cheaters and why do you have to be all “goodie goodie” and rise above the rest? Fucker.

    Now, if you get that threesome on Saturday? Or ANY threesome for that matter? I will get you that blow-job I promised (see how I wrote “get you” and not “give you”? — just take note of that) AND a magical mythical animal of your choice…

    Oh, and by the way? Every single real man alive who had a crush, as a kid, will relate to this line: “I don’t even remember her name. I don’t need to. I remember her essence, and that’s all that matters.” You nailed that!

    By the way, if she IS still running the day care program? She is like fat and ugly now… but that doesn’t mean you still couldn’t coax her into a threesome — in fact, you likely have a better shot!

    • My good gawd, I like the way your mind works. My lady says it shall be a phoenix, but I’d rather have a minotaur. Cheater.

  2. PS. This comment makes me tempted to have a threesome on purpose, so you’ll be forced to provide us with a mythical creature! PS…my vote is for a Phoenix, but I would settle for a unicorn.

  3. I hope you guys enjoyed your stay at the Delta. So, was the same chick still running the day care? That would be awesome… maybe more sad… if she were.

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