Sunday, April 29, 2007

This neighborhood has gone to shit Part II

Deep woe surges within me as I come across another fine specimen of Montreal yuppiedom on the very same bleak Sunday. After my first encounter, it occurs to me that yuppies can not only out reproduce me, they also outrun me. So I take it upon myself to infiltrate their jogging paradise called the Mount-Royal. In a way, I myself have succumbed to that trend. But I persevere, knowing full well that many more trials will be endured before my unrelenting spirit wavers. I struggle to take every back country trail I can find so as to be alone in this overcrowded oasis. But because my heart rate can’t handle the harsh relief of the stray paths, I am obliged to return to the fold. The spicy eggplant sandwich that I had eaten earlier on does not seem to help much either. From one of the lookouts, I decide to take the long and winding stairs down to a lower level. I usually sneak or even impose my way through leisurely inconsiderate slow walkers but I decide to calm down and go at a cruising speed behind one particular pair that took the liberty of walking side by side in order to block everyone for six flights of stairs. Suddenly, an unholy sight strikes me into submission and I remain in an unshakeable trance for the remainder of the downward trek. There it is. The beast itself is looking at me through the back of these two heads that crowd my vision. Although my wish is not to inflict torment onto the reader, I will nonetheless do so without any guilt or reservation. They have matching black caps with an orange and red fiery motif. And they have their names on the back of each respective cap. And I suspect that these demonic sounding appellations are none other than each other’s pet names. Oh the humanity! Not since joint email addresses have I witnessed something so gruesome and vile! To that, dear reader, I leave you to reel in the realization that we share this realm with a god forsaken breed. And breed, they do.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

another thought has occured to me upon reading this other fine testimony of a great encounter with the unimaginative...
i love to find new bands and/or music styles, whatever (i'll get heavily bashed for saying so, no doubt about it) and i probably take great pride in it too, but i've always made a point not to be pretentious about it because there really is no reason. until i write a revolutionary song or album, i am nothing more than a fan and listener of something that other people have heard before and that more will hear after me... so i hear stuff and try to share it with those who are interested in it and i love to hear others sharing stuff they've discovered too, i guess that's how it works... but i find myself becoming the biggest pretentious prick when i see these creatures you've described so well before, liking these things and then telling me about them!!!
oh! what have i become???

Dementor said...

Joint email adresses!?

where!?
how?!

I want one!

Karl Hungus said...

What!?! Really? I didn't know you could get joint email accounts either! How do I get one? Shipwreck, will you share a email account with me?

Karl Hungus said...

I once had a girlfriend who's father bought us matching sweaters for Christmas.

I wore it once.

Hamma said...

Duke,

Your writing style has me dizzy with pleasure.

Karl Hungus said...

Quick! Do her now, while she's stunned!

Dementor said...

The pen is mightier than the sword!

(pas pen comme crayon en anglais, pen comme dans : pen dans bouche, pen pen dans bouche, pen dans bouuuuuche)

Dementor said...

T'as un pen de loger dans bouuuuucheu, t'as un osti d'gros penis de loger dans bouche! hey!
pen dans bouche, pen pen dans bouche oui pen dans bouuuuuuche

Barbarosa said...

pen, pen pen dans bouche!

Barbarosa said...

I did not know so many of you had been lucky enough to escape the wrath of the joint email address.