"Yo ho ho and a bottle of thiiiiiis."

Life just isn't the same without pimp dance parties.

My upstairs neighbors have procured themselves a drum kit.

There is a cruel, spiteful god running this universe.

Today I went to the grocery store and purchased one (1) can of refried beans and one (1) tube of cookie dough. I think I've hit rock bottom, but it's so delicious here.

Winds from NNE at 39 km/h, temperature -14 degrees, feels like -26.

And yet all the stores have phased out their winter clothing in lieu of BATHING SUITS.

???

Even when the snow/hail/sleet/rain is pounding against the glass, and when I'm nursing the bruises of two spectacular falls from The Ice, and when I can't remember what it's like to have properly working fingers, Montreal feels like home. Lately, I think it's because of my russian.

Tonight I am eating something entitled "wiener wrap" for dinner.

I think when people off the street try to come it means your New Year's party was a success.

It's going to be an excellent year.

I remember one hot lazy day at the beginning of last summer. I was sitting outside on the front porch, probably with a computer and a corona, watching the streams of people come and go. It was the kind of day where the air hums with a low murmur of content conversation, where moving is impossible, but it's that special kind of day where you can get ( Read more... )

The night exploded into snow and now the city glitters.

!!!!

Obviously my upstairs neighbors are world-class clogging champions, because that's the only explanation for the god-forsaken stomping that occurs at all hours of the day.

They also have a lot of orgies too, judging by the moans.