“edited” by AL SOUTH

F I fucking hate the F1! And everybody that comes in for it. [BLEEP!]

M Not even officially summertime and I’ve already gotten my first glimpse of PUBLIC FORNICATION while walking over Mount-Royal. Nice. [BLEEP!]

M If the NSA is monitoring everyone’s communications—and I do believe that they really are—then that means the U.S. Government knows already about all the shit everyone has done. Like if they made a DRUG DEAL or bought some black-market guns, or traded CHILD PORNOGRAPHY on their computers. So if they know all this and not every single motherfucker doing all these things gets a raid done on them, then isn’t it a good argument that the U.S. Government is complicit in all those crimes? So either the U.S government has to also go to jail, or no one has to. Think about that one. [BLEEP!]

M Yeah, what is this shit about Rob Ford saying his fucking CABLE WAS OUT, and so he had no idea the cops just happened to have raided the building where he smoked up his crack? They hauled off all kinds of cellphones and computers, but just two people and no DRUGS or WEAPONS so far, which is what they said they were looking for. I guess all the drugs and weapons are hidden on SD cards, right? This is really an obvious Rob Ford-orchestrated hunt to destroy evidence on his drug use. First he tried to murder those two black dudes that were in the picture with him, and now he’s trying to clean up all the proof. Everyone knows Toronto police are owned by the Fords. So obvious. Toronto is so full of shit. [BLEEP!]

M Hi, I called you about half-an-hour ago about the Toronto police Rob Ford thing and I think I may have said they only took cellphones and not any drugs or guns, but I just saw that they took a lot of drugs and guns also, so maybe forget that part of my first call. Peace. [BLEEP!]

M This is a big shout-out to the guy that just drove me in his Trans Am, a fucking RUST BUCKET from the 70s, with his JELLY ROLL ARM hanging out the window, with one of those gross tattoos, yelling at his girlfriend or wife or whatever in the car. Muffler from another planet and the Quebec flag hanging off the back of the car. You sir, make your province proud. You’re a true patriot. Thank you for leaving the B.O. from your armpit 12 feet past in your dust. [BLEEP!]

M Hey there seems to be a misprint in the Best of Montreal. Pauline Marois is voted fourth Most Desirable Woman in Montreal? Are you fucking kidding me? I’d rather stab a burning needle in my URETHRA every single night for the rest of my life than spent one single night with that disgusting woman. Peace. [BLEEP!]

M Hey, yeah, hi. Listen, I’m the guy who called about those CRT monitors that people leave on the street with the notes about that they work, and I just want to say that exactly two seconds ago, I passed a guy walking down the street in the ghetto CARRYING A FUCKING CRT MONITOR. I obviously don’t know if he took it off the street or anything or is just moving it and it was already his, but I want to believe he found it and took it. So how about that? Just when you think you have it all figured out, BOOM. CRT monitors on the move. Any other evidence supporting this would be appreciated. What’s next?! [BLEEP!]

M Just saying no one knows the biggest MAP of the world in the world is in Montreal. Just wanted you to know. Not many people know that. I’m not saying where it is, but it’s the biggest map of the world in the world, in Montreal. [BLEEP!]

M Yes hi, this is Eddie. I’m a grumpy old man because I have to throw out stuff that I want to keep and it’s not my fault. I mad with Pauline Marois and the other liars, criminals, gay homosexual men and terrorists because they do it by choice. Thank you. Bye. [BLEEP!]

F If you are truly trying to find your freedom, you have to teach your spirit to move without GRUDGE. You must give up past transgressions. To hold your anger inside or let it bend you into a MONSTROUS FORM will only weigh your spirit and chain you to the now. I plant my anger in fertile COSMIC SOIL and watch it grow, a row of delicious fruit trees, forgiving and ripe with kind energy, which I feed on and which nourishes me for the long road I have still ahead. Let your anger drop from you, let it be the rotted fruit that feeds the worms who absorb it and transform it into something rich with electric good. I ride the back of the HATE WORM along a glowing path toward the sun. My thymus gland is a five-star resort of fulfillment. This is the change we all have to make, but the gatekeeper toward its success is a vile and plodding evil forcing its priapic temptation inside you. Don’t eat its slow death. Please contact me. We need to grow a garden of goodness together. Thank you so much. [BLEEP!]

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