“edited” by AL SOUTH
M Yep, hi. If you look at the time, you can see it’s pretty late at night. I was sitting here watching Game of Thrones on my Galaxy tab, and I see something flashing on my wall, like a strobe light. FLASH, FLASH, FLASH. I was like, what the fuck is that, because I’m up on the 10th floor. I thought maybe it was a SPY DRONE. But when I went and opened the curtains to look, instead I see a police car with its lights flashing. Not the old kind of lights, but these ultra-bright halogen flashing lights that were fucking blinding to look at even from 10 floors up and about two blocks away. Are these new? Because they’re pretty fucking obnoxious. Montreal police: even our cars are assholes. How’s that for a new slogan? [BLEEP!]
M Between the HIPSTERS who think they’re God’s gift to the world, and walk around like they own the place, and the HASIDS who think they’re God’s gift to the world and walk around like they own the place, the Mile End area has become unbearable. Although at least the Hasids aren’t wearing gay fucking running shoes and skinny jeans and ridiculous sunglasses. Seriously. What a lousy area to try to shop in. [BLEEP!]
M Sometimes I see things I like better than the things I’m supposed to be liking. [BLEEP!]
F Hi. I wanted to pass on some advice to the guy who talked about being DEMORALIZED by his JOB. The more I talk to people, the clearer it is that nobody is happy with their jobs, and most of the people doing the hiring are disgusting. What I do is I PRETEND. I go to work and I smile a lot, and I tell everyone that I’m great and that work is great and how nice everyone is. I do my job just enough without really working too hard, but talk about how great it is to be working there—which it isn’t. But my employers think I’m HAPPY, and so they like me and never second-guess me when I call in sick or have to leave early. And all the while I’m thinking to myself that they’re complete pieces of shit, and the first chance I get I will screw them over like there’s no tomorrow. So that’s what you need to do. LIE. It won’t make you like your job more, but it’ll make the bastards you work for happy enough not to notice that you’re not really working. Good luck! [BLEEP!]
M Yeah, I don’t know how to tell that WORKER’S BLUES MAN this, but all jobs are shit. Needing money to have fun is not anything new. So unless you can MARRY RICH or inherit a lot of money, then you’re fucked. On the plus side, so is everyone else. It’s just that you seem to want to be a little whiny bitch about it. [BLEEP!]
F To the guy saying there is a lot in this city but you need a lot of money to do them—the best things in life are free! You have beautiful parks, there’s the ORATORY, the Old Port, St. Denis, St. Lawrence, you have lots of festivals that give you free shit, interesting newspapers, beautiful nature walks. It’s all free. It’s just a matter of not finding things boring. Maybe you are boring? [BLEEP!]
F Who was it that said “If you’re in ADVERTISING, kill yourself”? Because I am, and I think I might. [BLEEP!]
M Yes, I don’t want to get involved, really, with anyone else’s problem with NAKED NEIGHBOURS leaving their blinds up. But I very much do want to say thank you to the FIT SWEETIE across from me, because almost every night she comes strolling into her bedroom, drops her towel, and then spends about 10 minutes OILING her tits. Well, maybe it’s not 10 minutes, but it’s definitely long enough for me to get what I need out of it. So thank you. And maybe that woman complaining about the other guy could try to take advantage of seeing some free cock. One day we all get cut off. May as well look while you can. [BLEEP!]
F Yeah, a FABRIC ALLERGY? Really? Good excuse. It seems a lot more likely that he’d have a fabric allergy than just be the sort of person who gets off on the idea of everyone seeing his dick? God, you’re stupid. [BLEEP!]
F Hi, this isn’t really so much of a rant so much as a thought I had about all the LOST STUFF that people never see again. And how I wonder what happens next to it. Like, I lost a HAT today and went back to look for it, but it was just gone, and I wondered if it got picked up, or thrown out, or what happened to it. It’s a bit SAD to think someone might suddenly be loving something that someone else is sad to have lost. I had that had for years. It was my dad’s. Shit. I hope someone else picked it up and takes care of it. It was always a bit too big for me, Anyway, it’s sad. I’m a bit fucked up right now. Not because of the hat, or anything. Just because it’s Saturday. Anyway, if you found a hat, sort of floppy-brimmed brown hat, let me know. Sometimes people put things they find on parking meters so the person who lost it might see it if they come back that way. That didn’t happen with my hat. I’m rambling. Sorry. Bye [BLEEP!]
M I’m sorry for sort of talking low, but I’m sitting on a TOILET in a restaurant men’s room having a dump. And that sets the scene for you. But to my right, that’s where someone wrote I LOVE ROCK SOLID COCK on the wall. And this isn’t even a shitty restaurant, either. It’s fancy. Not fancy-fancy, but fancy for an Italian bistro type place. Not cheap. So I’m now wondering, did some guy, while taking a shit like I am still trying to do think, “I must tell someone I love cock or I’ll explode.” And then he wrote it down like it was that lame secrets web site and suddenly he felt LIBERATED? I just don’t get it. Okay… I need both hands now. Gotta go. Bye. [BLEEP!]
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