Bathurst Street

handwritten signs of Honest Ed’s. The iconic establishment was initially opened up as a discount store in 1948 by Ed Mirvish but has since become one of the cities most well known landmarks for tourists and locals alike. Located on the corner of Bloor and Bathurst, the kitsch department stores twenty-three thousand bulb sign isn’t the only interesting thing about the place; the merchandise inside ranges from tube socks to gold Elvis busts, each advertised with a unique hand painted sign. It was hard news for

assembling. Little Italy Business Improvement area is a district in Toronto, Ontario in College Street West. It is in west side of the Yonge Street and south side of the Bloor Street. The Little Italy is situated in College Street from the Bathurst Street on the east side to the Shaw Street on the west side. The College Promenade Business Improvement Area is situated at the west side of the Shaw Street and

It's without a doubt that the feature race at the Clipsal 500 Adelaide was one of the craziest V8 Supercars races to date, however I seem to be one of the few labelling it "Crazy" rather than a "Joke". So I shall explain why it is not a complete joke. While their was a lot of confusion over the race start, I will focus on the fuel drop rule instead. The Facts: During certain races there is a required amount of fuel that must be put into the car during the race, this is often referred to the as

Street railways were created and they were the most aggressive expansion in the 19th century. From the 1880’s to the 1890’s street railways took up at least six miles from City Hall in Boston. The service of the first railway began in 1852. The first street railway in Boston would go between Harvard Square, Cambridge, Summerville, and Union Square. The increase in the street railway brought excitement for the entrepreneur’s as well in other cities in America. Eventually the street railways

Close by the giant textile mill row on row on row of drab terrace houses huddle together as if to fend off the bitter cold of a winter night in December of 1811. Night obscures the narrow streets of the industrial village of Holmeside as morning’s hesitant light pokes through the canopy of dismal clouds. Inside the mill, workers have been toiling for hours. They rose from their beds early and put on their work clothing. The lucky ones ate a crust of bread and drank the remains of yesterday’s milk

other with metalic blue eyes. The people looked to be teenagers like me. The kid with metalic blue eyes took 1 glance at me, then at the girl next to her and took off. She jumped through the small window in the corner and disappeared through the busy streets. The other girl, with golden hair, chased

Of all the people and things that have influenced me thus far has to be the most amazing lady that I have ever met, my grandmother. She’s the kind of person who has thoughtful discussions about which artist she would most likely want to meet in life whether musical or artistic, the kind of grandmother who always had time for her family and the kind of advocate to voice her opinions on the world and life as I’ve come to know it. Growing up with such a strong role model, I developed many of her enthusiasms

about that person, it becomes racism. Being a malicious looking black man, walking the streets at night may give someone the idea that you’re a rapist, killer, robber, or even a stalker. Nearly everyone has experienced these same emotions before and each has

the Streets Culture in urban communities, also referred to as inner-cities, are growing increasingly violent. In the article, The Code of the Streets by Elijah Anderson, he begins to take an in-depth look at the root of the evil. He deduces that economic factors, parenting and the troublesome environments largely influence the violent norms within this culture. Anderson notes that two groups coexist simultaneously in the inner-cities which he labels as the “decent” and the “streets.” Although

Skecthing Gustave Calliebotte’s Paris Street; Rainy Day I can smell the rain on my jacket as my fingers numbly make their way across the pad, trying their best to capture an instant in time on a piece of yellow, college-ruled, notebook paper, despite my now apparent lack of artistic ability. As I am watching the scene unfold, I hardly notice the people walking around me, gazing at the same thing I am, before they move on. Cuddling under an umbrella, a man and his wife are casually strolling