Had I realized to do so when I arrived, (and had I the gall, which I probably don't) I would have snapped a picture of every single lingerie shop I have seen since I arrived here in Montreal. Chances are, I would have more lingerie-shop pictures than the total number of trip photos I have actually taken. They're everywhere, and not just chains like "La Senza" or "La Vie en Rose", but tons of independent names. Then there are the sex shops, tastefully interspersed among regular neighborhoods as if they were no less normal or essential than the wine store or the patisserie shop. Next you've got the fact that everyone here is incredibly attractive. Single men, if you're willing to learn French, you may have a shot at one of the many gorgeous Québécoise babes... but you'd have to compete against the equally hawtsome Québécois boys. All this can only amount to one product:
The Québécois(e) love to LOVE.
Perhaps this would explain why every day we went out for a walk we saw at least two or three pregnant young women. Buns in ovens; they're fairly ubiquitous. With an overall negative birth rate, the fastest growing population in Canada (through birth) is certainly the French part. I surmise that it's all part of a diabolical scheme to slowly but surely outnumber the English part of Canada! Either that or they just love to love... ... I REALLY need to get home soon.
Posted on June 3, 2006 08:14 PM
Oh God! I need a blunt instrument to gouge out my eyes with, and then to dig out the part of my brain housing that memory with. Why oh why have you subjected us to this? I don't think there was a big enough warning posted alongside your post to sufficiently warn your audience... ugh.Posted on June 3, 2006 10:03 PM
I should be shopping for undergarments there; I am having no luck here.
Just seeing the title of the song brings it ALL back to me. After seeing it only once. A while back... oh dear.Posted on June 3, 2006 11:35 PM
Chris, for pete's sake, don't be ridiculous. Everyone knows that you use a sharp instrument to gouge your eyes out with. You use a blunt instrument to beat yourself into unconsciousness and induce amnesia with. DUH.Posted on June 4, 2006 08:16 AM
I felt that the severity of my trauma upon witnessing this atrocity called for a more severe approach to forgetfullness. Thus the blunt instrument in place of the usually sharp one. Also, amnesia is usually a temproary condition, I wanted a permanent solution to my unwanted memory. :)Posted on June 4, 2006 12:52 PM
We'll get you an appointment at one of those brain-zapping places from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.Posted on June 4, 2006 05:54 PM