Captain Morgan knifes Admiral Nelson in the front. Diageo, makers of the rum best recognized for its pirate mascot, successfully argued in federal court that its character was infringed by rival distillery Heaven Hill—which failed to defend the look of its Admiral Nelson on the basis of being a historical figure. Captain Morgan’s company pointed out the admiral is depicted as blatantly younger than its 17th century inspiration, Horatio Lord Nelson, who was older with grey hair and missing an arm.

Hudson’s Bay shareholder calls for a sell-off. Despite the despair in the air at Sears Canada, another department store company stock just spiked, thanks to activist investor Land & Buildings Investment Management shouting that there’s way more value to be found in selling off its fancy real estate, which includes NYC's flagship Saks Fifth Avenue. (HBC already sold the building of its primary Toronto department store to Cadillac Fairview.)

Spadina now belongs to Rexall. The northeast corner of Spadina and Dundas, built in 1922 as the Standard Theatre (and later the site of the Victory Burlesque) before settling into being most recognized as a Royal Bank, is the next location for the drugstore chain—adding to the one a few blocks north at College, not to mention the nearby conversion of Ye Olde Brunswick House. Perhaps the notion of Rexall moving into the endangered arts complex slightly to the south isn’t so far-fetched.

Kellie Leitch is still lurking. The unsuccessful Conservative leadership candidate rebooted her rhetoric by tweeting a Toronto Sun column by Candice Malcolm, summing up the legacy of Justin Trudeau’s Syrian refugee program as “A battered wife and a bloodied hockey stick.” The author noted detractors were more outraged by the column than the subject—based on reports of a Fredericton newcomer who claimed he didn't know wife-beating was against the law. (Malcolm’s husband Kaz Nejatian, a former Jason Kenney staffer, has offered comparable incredulity on similar matters.)

Carly Rae Jepsen wins in the end. The most successful Canadian Idol contestant turned into a poptimist cause célèbre when she repeatedly failed to follow-up the commercial success of “Call Me Maybe.” Since actual tweenage girls don’t tend to idolize singers thrice their age, she's probably better off being fetishized by eternal adolescents. The thinking was manifest Saturday night at Roy Thomson Hall, when Jepsen fronted the Toronto Symphony Orchestra—whose conductor Lucas Waldin assumed the audience was younger when pointing out that they might recognize “Claire De Lune” from Twilight. But the concert also did the trick in generating a glowing New Yorker review:

Seven-year itch for a nine-minute reality show. A local version of the then-popular Jersey Shore got closer to reality in 2010 when a casting call generated sufficiently ridiculous club kid stereotypes. Maryam Rahimi, who posted the original casting call on Craigslist, had her innocent notion turned into a montage of verbal conflict between would-be cast members by producer George Tsioutsioulas—creating a firestorm in the halcyon days of social media outrage. Chances are, few would’ve remembered Lake Shore's trainwreck this well had episodes actually been produced.

“How my family came to be the most hated family in Toronto (at least for 24 hours).” Julian Humphreys, the life coach from wife Catherine Jheon’s Toronto Life article “We Bought a Crack House,” lashes back with a response laying out everything in his head about the experience. (The facetious GoFundMe to pay the family’s debt ended up raising $4,798, which will go to social agencies.)