CRAZY ADVENTURES II

I drove a borrowed Carolla off my sister-in-law from L.A. to Vancouver in 1985 to meet someone on a plane...who didn't bloody arrive, who wasn't even on the plane.

The Canadian border police informed me that there were no handguns or unlicensed firearms allowed and wondered if I had any in my car.

I told them I hadn't known that about Canada, that I didn't own any firearms and that because the car was borrowed any firearms that may or may not be found therein would not belong to me. I told them I hadn't completely searched the vehicle before embarking.

They searched anyway...and halfway through I realised, waiting in their waiting room, I DID have rather incriminating cannabinoidal evidence and paraphenalia in the glove compartment! Shit!

Canadian copper said all was well and I could go and enjoy my visit. Whew! Go Canada!

Peace Park sucked however.

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Count me in on the journey, don't expect me to stay.