A re-enactment of 8,000 years of Indian history (including 3,200 years of Sino-Indo trade relations).

Gettin mah mothaland on, tha mothaland bein Toronto. I'm also breakin out my new clothin line, BlaurnClaurn™. Hit dat shit.

Here's mah grandmama. She gives a really hard time to all her grand daughters because they don't know how to cook and clean properly, but she's ultra tight with me and mah bros. Indian cultural goodness all ova mah domepiece, 365/24/7.

One of my cousins, pictured here, used to be a nice Hindu kid but somewhere during college, he fell in with the wrong crowd and converted to Irish soccer hooligan. It was a bit of a shock, but we all realized, in due time, how advantageous having a hooligan in the family could be. My other, more unkempt cousin, also pictured here is rather smart and I'd say he was pretty influential in helping me become the omniscient chordat I am today (at least that is what I wrote in my college admission's essay).

Yo, let's go to Tim Hortons in a waegon and we can go to Taeco Bell and bring a baeg and study Kumon while watching some hosers play hockey while we engage in underage drinking in this great peninsula where the legal drinking age is a healthy 19 years, eh.

Normal.Weird.Normal.Weird. Time to blow this popsicle stand. (It's also time to recognize the inherent superiority of western civilization... later Canada.)