Escape From McGangBang Island.

I feel like Snake in that old badass 80's flick "Escape From New York", or, possibly even Snake in that less badass 00's flick "Escape From L.A.", except that instead of fleeing from explosions and bad guys while trying to rescue the President, I've been fleeing from greasy food and strip malls while trying not to let my meals slide through me faster than what should be humanly possible.

Like this, if this were my butt.

But I made it! I'm in Toronto, on my way to Montreal, New Brunswick, and, finally, Nova Scotia to track down, tie up, and kill the Wizard that made this coin that made me go 4 days without real food.

Thankfully, being back in Canada means a whole lot less of this:

McGangBang Burger

... seriously. I wish I made that name up.

And a whole lot more of this:

Poutine. Canada's response to KFC's Double Down.

I think the only reason poutine doesn't fly too well in the States is because when you order it the person behind the till usually hands it to you in styrofoam, rather than meat.