Thursday, May 19, 2011

Tabernak!

I’m pretty excited to go to Montreal this weekend for Pouzza fest. I’m gonna be up there doing my best impersonation of someone who can play the guitar and sing at the same time and I’m gonna check out the sights and smells of French Canada with my friends in the Ste. Catherines, Elway and the Holy Mess. Who else? I know my friend Joe is gonna be up there. Let’s conduct a quick Google search…

Hmmm. Yeah. That’s about it. There are some other people that I kind of know and some folks that I’ve been corresponding with, and of course Joe Queer, who I don’t know but kind of want to observe from a distance, but the folks I mentioned in the first paragraph are the people that I’m gonna be going to get poutine with, the people I’m going to the all nude diner with and the people that I’m gonna go to that weird place where you stick your dick in the tube and the woman behind the glass that’s molded in the shape of tits works a bellows until you jizz into the public ball emptier. Oh, you’ve never been to Montreal? Well, let me walk you through the culture a little, ya know…just to get you ready for everything.

Montreal is awesome. Let’s just get that out of the way right now. It’s one of the uniquely weirdest places on earth. Here’s why: English and French Canada maintain a mutual respectful disdain for one another (and it really is quite polite in the way that only Canadian generalized mutual dislike could ever be), while the French, the classic, or ‘old school’ French from France, outwardly and rudely dislike the French Canadians, to the point where they’ll pretend that they don’t even understand Canadian French when it’s spoken (the notable exception to this, of course is the cursing, which everyone agrees the French Canadians have taken to an almost profound level of creative artistry. ‘Tabernak!’ Is the go to if you’re looking to exemplify the vulgar canon of the Quebecois and I guess it means tabernacle. Our curse words are all about sex and poo, but theirs are all about religion. I don’t know. Seems weird to me too, but whatever. If you’ve ever watched a bearded French Canadian with no shirt, holding a violin, piss-drunk in the snow, accidentally stub his toe and scream ‘Tabernak!’ at some stranger over the course of his nightly staggerings, well, you’d know that it’s a pretty cool word).

The upshot of all this disdain is that French Canada has a real plucky and ‘fuck all y’all’ attitude.’ It’s a very culturally self-propelled place. The fashion is really unique. The haircuts are ahead of their time and the whole city of Montreal, which is beautiful, has a vaguely ‘mad max’ kind of vibe as a result. Oh, and the food is totally awesome.

Poutine is becoming exploited by gastropub dipshits all over the US, but it started out as the 2AM go-to in Quebec. It’s fries covered in cheese curds and brown gravy. You drunkenly shovel it past your mustache at 3am with a plastic fork while packed in, 6 dudes to a booth or small car, or alternately while walking home. It’s delicious and every place in Montreal claims to have the best poutine. Most of them are correct. The other gastronomical feat that Quebec has mastered is the sexy breakfast.

Sexy Breakfast was introduced to me by my friend Sam the morning after a show in Montreal a few years back. It’s a diner where you can get bacon and eggs or poutine (I got poutine) and everything about it is normal except for one thing: there’s no windows. Why? Well, because the waitresses are buck naked. No panties, no bras, just a little apron for the checks and a pot of coffee. It’s wild. When the coffee at the next table gets refilled, you’ll likely find yourself staring right into someone’s asshole (it’s up to you if you think that’s awesome or gross or distracting or curious or whatever). The crazy thing is that there’s really nothing else to this place as far as I could tell. It doesn’t sell dildos or lapdances or anything. It’s just a diner with naked waitresses. As usual, Montreal keeps it weird.

Finally, there’s the dick-tubes. These establishments look like a cross between a peep show and a dentist office. You go into a highly sterile clinic type place, and there’s a glass partition that’s got a mold of a woman’s naked body in it. There’s also an apparatus which is clearly designed to put your dick in. So, a woman comes out, writhes around behind the glass, puts her body in the mold (presumably so she can, for example, put her tits in where the tits of the mold are and you can touch the tit shaped glass, which looks like tits, but has to feel like feeling up a statue), while this reverse hose thing sucks you off. I’ve had friends who have done it and they’ve all referred to it as both awesome and weird. I’ve been in the places for a ‘consultation’ just to see everything for myself but I’ve never done it (for two reasons. Reason one: it’s expensive. Reason 2: I’m not sticking my dick into some tube that a zillion other losers that fuck blowjob machines stick their dicks into every day, regardless of the cleaning regimen that they endure) and I’m probably not gonna do it this time either. I mean, my old lady is gonna be with me, and she sometimes lets me touch her without a barrier of molded glass between us, which is a nice personal gesture for a wife to offer her husband every once in a while during a working vacation.

Anyway, see you folks in Montreal. For the rest of you, have you voted for BSC for best local blog in the reader’s poll yet? If not, go here. It would be truly great for a free web based publication that haphazardly tosses terms like ‘dick tubes’ around to get recognition in a long running metropolitan weekly, would it not? Of course it would.
Tabernak, y’all. Tabernak.

19 comments:

MA said...

As an Englishman, this makes me very excited to be visiting Montreal next February with my (classic French) girlfriend.

Neilchair said...

Agreed, sir. I would also add: Most horrifically confusing/terrifying/soul-grinding place to try to drive.

Candice said...

i was excited before but the sexy breakfast has pushed me over the edge. J'ai tellement envie, j'ai la moule en feu!

boringdan said...

Also- schwartz's has the best smoked meat sandwiches in the world. See you on the other side (hopefully not of a glass tube)!

PS verification word is calch which sounds both mildly French and vaguely dirty.

BEEXtrix Potter said...

^ oh christ

Duncan said...

I fucking love Montreal. Poutine has to be one of the greatest gastronomic inventions ever. Although, the French pretending not to understand French Canadian isn't just an act: as rude as the French are, Quebecois can be impossible to understand, even for fluent French speakers.

bill_stickers said...

That Joey Queer comment was gold.

Matt said...

Montreal is a strange, strange place. I went there for a long weekend with 2 of my friends last winter and had quite the time. We were taken to a strip club by a guy we met at a bar, who then proceeded to try and shake us down for money for "showing us around". We had to pretend to go to the ATM before we could make a break for it. We also met a guy named Gary outside our hotel who said hew as a "getter", and anything we needed we could call him for. We called him twice for pretty simple requests and he came through with nothnig. Worst "getter" ever.

Robb said...

Poutine sounds vaguely Amish amiright?

Matt if your simple requests were anything other than painkillers/low tier hookers then I suppose it's your own fault as that's clearly what anything meant

Sean said...

i wanna go to the sexy breakfast place and just hangout, paying for refills for whoever's at the booth next to me....

Sean said...

anyone excited for Jesus' return tonight at 6 PM?

..... now is that Eastern time... Central... or whatever?

Drunken Acorn said...

Anyone else hungover from all the Rapture partying last night?

Sean said...

Ok, I've got to say it....

I think Tom Delonge WAS abducted by aliens (or some other-worldly/universal being) and is now using Angels and Airwaves as a means to spread "Their" message to millions.

I have reasons for thinking this, but they are far too long to type right now, and I am a little freaked out as to what just happened to me during this whole "rapture" deal.

I am not a religious man, either.

BEEXtrix Potter said...

(tune of something vaguely naazty) Im a naaaaaazty naaaaazty type o' blaaaaaaaack man, im a naaaaaaazty nAAAAAAAAAAAAzty type o' blaaaaaaaack, maaaaaaaaaaan/Ima naaaaaaaaaazty naaaaaaaaaaazty type o blaaaaaaaaack maaaaaaaaaaan, ima naaaaaaaaaaazty naAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAzty type o blaaaaaaaaaack, maaaaaaaaan/ima naaaaaaaaaazty naaaaaaaaaaaazty type o' blaaaaaaaaaack maaaaaaaaaaan, ima naaaaaaaaaaaaazty nAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAzty type o blaaaaaaaack, maaaaaaaaaan/ima naaaaaaaazty naaaaaaaaaaaaaazty type o blaaaaaaaaaaack maaaaaaaaaaaaan, ima naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazty nAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAzty type o blaaaaaaaaaaack, maaaaaaaaaaaan/ima naaaaaaaaaaaaazty naaaaaaaaaaaaaazty type o blaaaaaaaaaack maaaaaaaaaaaaaan, ima naaaaaaaaaaaaazty nAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAzty type o blaaaaaaaaaaack, maaaaaaaaaaaaan/Ima a n--

Anonymous said...

Nice show yesterday at the foufs for the pouzzafest. Glad you like Montreal!

Anonymous said...

I drew you a picture.

It's A-Me, Martucci said...

Bren what's up with this recent irritating subgenre of Brit/European horror thrillers in which malnourished, dirty-diapered adolescent/teen hood chav faggots somehow inexplicably pose a legitimate threat to grown-ass adults? Them; Eden Lake, 'F'; etc etc

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeex

It's A-Me, Martucci said...

Cherry Tree Lane ugh that may be the worst

It's A-Me, Martucci said...

Damn Catherine from your pic ya look like the typucal Montrealian brunette fox but goddamn if that 'about me' section doesn't make me wanna thump you and any children you may have really hard on the nose