The guy who moulds some of my plastic wheel parts hit a moose one night while driving near Huntsville, Ontario. The moose and the sizable truck he (my supplier) was driving were both ruined beyond repair. He figured the moose owed him something for the damage, so he got another vehicle and hauled the dead moose to his storage building, hung it up in the cold, and spent the next few months eating it bit by bit.

That's North Ontario for you.

My cousin, Stephanie, once had a boyfriend named Curt...tall, good looking man with a beard. One night she was awoken by noises Curt was making in a dream. It sounded like he was engaged in some kind of struggle. As she watched curiously, he suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flew wide open, and he blurted, "LOOK AT THE ANTLERS ON THAT TRUCK!!!" He then flopped back down again and resumed sleeping quietly. She asked him about it in the morning, and he had no memory of it whatsoever...

They also had a friend who was known to all his acquaintances as "Da Beast", but that's another story...

- LH