Backpackers Ate my Balls

It's raining in heaven. If, of course, you consider Montreal to be heaven. Which I do. My friend LetNoManJock is in Northern Ontario right now and has just reported, in my inbox, that it's fuckin' SNOWING over there. I cannot stress enough times how much I am SO. NOT. LOOKING. FORWARD. TO. THAT. HERE.

I've had a bit enough of that kinda weather here. Because it means people start lacking civism amont the living. When it rains, like Chris Corda says, people are packin' up in abribus. They smoke and they try to pierce your eyes with their fuckin' umbrellas. They rub their soaked back packs against you. They can't see shit with their hoodies on. The worst is in the bus, for back packs. I really wish this "accessory" would disappear from the global scene. It's impossible to look good with that shit on. I mean... what the fuck are you carrying that requires you to hang around with that ugly piece of nylon around your shoulders ? You dress all swell and you can't even backpack-match ? How do you expect to color match such an horror ?

All this to say, get rid of your horrible backpack, stop trying to poke my eyes with your umbrella frame and watch where the fuck you're going. Thank you.

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It was a friend's friend's birthday on Tuesday and I invited myself over to spin. Mhotel has changed owners and is now called the Passage or something like that. They had Technics 1200 but no needles. The place is really classy and interesting, and the DJ booth is oddly located just front of the entrance, so you can spin & greet all at once. And drink.

So I drank a couple of Rev before going, just to get myself "in the mood". As I was setting up my shit, people started pouring in and I started rockin' the floor. Not too much, because they still haven't installed their double windows and the folks on Rachel St are whiny, but still, it was pretty decent.

The new owners were so thrilled to see their place half filled that they made an incredible row of shooters for us to drink.

Mr. Moto showed up with Mr. Hairdresser, and Miss Glass came as well, plus lots of other fun friends such as Mr. Dead Cat and his lil' bro. There was this girl I've been running after for about six months, and she was pretty friendly for once !

We migrated to Cabaret à Mado around 1:30 and I let her drive my car since I was drunk from the numerous gin tonics people paid me. She was impressed. Cabaret was half packed, with cheap dance music blasting loud and 17 years old girls from the 450 area code dancing their asses off. I danced onstage to "Mr. Vain"... and got tired fast. I had to wake up really early the following morning for a course I have at UQAM with this crazy dude from Cameroun.

I said goodbye to everybody, and fuckin' went to sleep.