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by Jon Dy I like winter in Montreal because you are guaranteed to get less bird shittings on your car windshield. There are a number of reasons why I'm not so fond of winter. First, I would like to bring upon you the issue of walking on the sidewalks of wonderful Montreal in the winter time. Here's my opinion: It frickin spanks some very bad bum cheeks!!! And no, that's not a good thing. I know some of you people actually live here in MTL or at least have visited, so you might know what I'm talking about. One thing I hate about walking down sidewalks in the winter is the whole slush factor, which extends to more than just getting splattered by passing automobiles. Rivers actually form on street sides, causing pedestrians to either jump over them using other people's car bumpers as stepping stones, getting soaked to the calves in murky slush, or trying to hop over it, but slipping and falling and breaking a bone or two or ten. I mean, is there anything deadlier than traveling in snow, slush and icy conditions? The answer to this is negatory. Here, have a listen... Here I am walking to class, and not only do I have to fight off this limb-numbing temperature and wind chill factor, but I also have to pay much attention to where I'm stepping so as not to slip on an undercover patch of ice. To do so, I kick the ol' groin muscles into play, tightening them up because with one slip, I could easily pull a groin or two or three (I may suck a the whole biology thing, but any idiot knows we have three groins). I swear, if the human body had ten groins, I would be the guy with ten pulled groins! I'd say it happens often enough, especially when traversing icy terrain. Then what's next, I have to have a groin or two or three amputated and walk around with prosthetic groins? I think not. What the groin tightening method does, is it forces me to walk somewhat like a waddling penguin with a carrot lodged up it's bum bum. So here I am, walking like a vegetably violated penguin, my limbs are so numb that I could actually cut one arm off and not notice it (yeah, it's happened to me more than just a coupla times), my calves are working overtime because of walking on an unstable sheet of snow, and my face is even more numb than my limbs, which sucks because I can't feel the liquid flowing from my nose like a river runs down a mountain slope on a lovely spring day. I think the thing I'd hate more than walking down a snow covered Montreal sidewalk in -40 degree temps would have to be being stuck in a prison cell with a large "bitchless" man named Bubba Luga, known by his gang-bang buddies for his gentle touch and loving embrace. Ohhh how I quiver at the very thought... Of a penguin with a carrot-filled arse (yeah, I'm still thinking of that too!). In a matter of weeks, all the snow will melt, giving people who are stuck in silent moments something to small-talk about. "Oh the weather's beautiful outside!" If it weren't for weather, what would we fill the silent voids of our lives with? While it might be great that the heaps of snow melt away with our annual venture into spring, there's bound to be unwelcome surprises laying beneath the sheet of brown-tainted white snow. Potholes. What the fuck is up with potholes? As Canadian comedian Mike Patterson would say "There's no POT in dem holes!" No but seriously, what's the deal? Is it a government conspiracy to create potholes in order to slow us vicious Quebec drivers down? Is that what's going on? 'Cause with Quebec being the pothole capital of the Milky Way and all, it's very plausible. Can it be that months of cryoexpansion (in my world, that word exists) in the nooks and crannies, cracks and crevasses have eaten away at our roads, thus creating these chasms in our highways and byways? I mean, some similar-sized craters have been manufactured by visits from celestial bodies from outer space I kid you not. Rumor has it that the Barringer Meteor Crater in Arizona was in fact created not by a giant-sized meteor, but by the harsh winters of decades past. (Please note: I'm not quite 100% sure if this rumor was actually a dream or not, but I'm sure someone told me this once when I was like really, really young, but I don't remember who that was, and to be honest with you, I'm not even sure I had exited the womb at that point, but I tell you to believe me when I say that this rumor is as good as gold, and is as sure a thing as the bird shit on my windshield.) I mean it when I say that I love Montreal, and I like winters here, but if one more goddamn snowflake falls before next winter, I will be forced to reconsider my hateful feelings for Bubba. Well, in a few words, that's all I have to say about the well-documented global issues of harsh winters, prosthetic groins, veggie-violated penguins, pot-less potholes, and a man named Bubba Luga and his bum brigade. Here's wishing you all a merry spring, and a happy and joyous new season! |
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