Here's where the actual valid traveling tips come in to play.

Okay, first of all? These fuckers have NO sense of humor! DO NOT SMUGGLE BAGS OF BABY POWDER OVER THE BORDER! Not that I've ever done that.

Also, if you cross the border via Buffalo, just before you get to the first big toll booth near the border ($2.50, I think), you'll see a bunch of signs on the right that say "Duty-Free Currency Exchange." Yeah, I know, Canadians have like, different money than us! Who knew? Anyway, instead of going through the toll booth, FOLLOW THE SIGNS. There's a buildling to the right of the tolls - go there. A big burly cop with a power complex and unnecessarily dark sunglasses will approach you, tell you how big his dick is, command you to be impressed and feel inadequate, ask you a few nosy questions about what the hell you're doing in HIS parking lot, and eventually let you park.

Once inside, you can exchange your money, pick up every single kind of hard liquor that exists, and then BAM! You're outta there like a jewel thief; congratulations, you didn't have to pay the $2.50 toll, AND you're prepared to play Monopoly with your colorful new Canadian money.

You'll be stopped one last time before you leave the U.S., being asked the same nosy questions. What are you doing here, where are you going, who are you seeing, what are you taking, blah blah blah. "Clothes, comics, and a giant stuffed Irish talking cactus" didn't even get a raised eyebrow. I have no idea what kind of training these people are put through, but I must say, I was impressed.

Did you know Canada has lakes? Great ones, in fact.

I stopped off at a roadside diner to grab a bite and use the restroom, and found a very odd difference between Canadian and American bathrooms. So odd, I was afraid I'd stumbled into the wrong room...

... it was CLEAN.

And while I was inspecting the surreal cleanliness of the restroom, I noticed...

... that it was nearly nine o'clock. OH WAIT! That's not what I noticed!

Yeah, believe it or not, even if you're driving to chilly CANADA, leaving your left arm dangling out the window? Bad idea. Now mine is a lovely shade of olive brown, whilste my right arm looks like what a nerdy, reclusive comic artist's arm should look like: paste.

So the clean bathroom got me thinking... maybe Canada is REALLY America in a different dimension.

But I didn't think that right away.

In fact, the first thought that entered my head when I crossed into Canada was: "SHIT!!"

See, I was supposed to be in Toronto within about an hour and a half of the border - 86 miles, to be exact. But when I crossed into the country, the first sign I saw said "Toronto: 144."

If you guessed that it took 74 kilometers for me to figure that one out, give yourself a pat on the back.

So here's Toronto at night (blurry, eh?), and I got there just in time to party with someone you all know and love...