It was another Canadian Sunday in August of 1993. When the end of my potato-probation came, I was hoping to get some easy unemployment insurance to...
It wasn’t like I only spent time inspecting potatoes and suffering from sleep deprivation. Since everyone was back from their respective colleges, some of us did...
The potato sorting factory boasted a “serviceable” cafeteria. Odds are the burgers had more soy than actual meat, but anything tasted good when lunchtime came around. ...
“You’re living in your own private Idaho.” – B-52’s I had made the conscious decision very early not to get an apartment in Brandon again. You...
“You’ll write?” “Constantly,” Corinne assures me. We hold each other one last time. The day had finally come where college was officially over, and our collective...