by Roxane Hudon
YO LADIEZZZZ, so it’s the third week that women are using my now INFAMOUS (sure, why not) Peter Pan quote to go on some kind of rampage against poor, little Montreal men in the Rant Line section of the Montreal Mirror. I feel like since my quote seems to have instigated this woman-rage, I should respond to these rants, reach out to my MTL LADIEZ and defend my MTL Peter Pans. 514-ONE-LOVE. (more…)
by Roxane Hudon, obviously.
As you grow older, you start to realize that New Year’s Eve is always awful, it’s always a shit show, it always sucks. So, you have two possible solutions: stay home and hide under the covers while everyone suffers a horrible night out on the town or, since all your friends seem willing to risk it, go out anyway. Fuck it! Maybe this year, it’ll be fun! 2011 was a silly, silly year, why not end it with a silly, silly night! So here are a set of guidelines that will maybe, just maybe, ensure you have an OKAY to average night out on the town, after which you will wake up in 2012 with no regrets, all your friendships intact, money in the bank and no stranger sleeping next to you. (more…)
1. Your parents will ask you questions you cannot, under any circumstances, answer in any way. “What does your friend’s older brother’s girlfriend do for a living?” “I have no idea.” “Do you have proper virus protection on your computer?” “I don’t know.” “What’s the interest rate on your student loans?” “A percent of something…..” “Do you know if…?” “No I don’t.” At first, you’ll be irrationally annoyed but then you’ll feel bad that you aren’t interested enough in life, responsibilities and people to know any of these things. (more…)
by Roxane Hudon
I’ve spent most of my life thinking that I’m way smarter than most people. This has lead me to make a lot of awful decisions and do a whole lot of really stupid things. But this year, at the ripe age of 25, I’ve realized that I am an idiot. I’m really dumb. Maybe at one point in my life, I was actually as smart as I thought I was, but clearly not today. (more…)
With my breath acquiescing into the wheeze of an elderly man and my legs starting to burn (I should have worn shorts), I stopped beside a Martial Arts dojo I had seen a hundreds of times before. Under a massive sign in the window that read, “Lian Yee Health Club: Wing Chun, Kung Fu, Aikiki, and Tai Chi,” was a television screen playing several demonstrations on a loop: Karate chopping wood, scissor kicking wood, head-butting wood. These guys fucking hated wood. Pine, spruce, birch, it didn’t mean shit; it was going to get knocked the fuck out. Near the end of the loop however, there were two men, who I assumed to be the resident experts, battling against each other. I’m guessing they ran out of wood. The whole fight was pretty even but there was a moment when one of the guys, with cold, robotic precision, takes out his opponent’s legs. The latter then falls down to the ground. Each time, though only for an instant, I see a look in his eyes as he drops – he looks almost serene, as though he were about to fall into the arms of a loved one rather than a musty old martial arts mat. Apparently he’d reconciled himself to the comfort of giving up the battle; of finally, after years of constant training, meditation, focus, sacrifice, commitment, letting himself go. (more…)
You see some miserable faces in a 24 hour coffee shop at 3 am. Just plain miserable. Not wrinkled countenances haunted by mysterious pasts nor youthful expressions of romantic anguish. Nope, none of that shit. Just pure, dull misery.
It probably didn’t help matters that I was staring at each of these poor bastards periodically while trying to avoid focusing on my studies. I’m an English student but I won’t tell you what I’m working on because you’ll have to maintain eye contact at the right times, say “that’s interesting” at precise instances and then intuitively know when it’s socially acceptable to change the subject after I refer to “juxtaposition” for the fourth time. So I won’t bother you with that. I remember a girl once told me she worked on “Goat Hooves in Shakespeare” and, through sheer politeness, I forced myself not to laugh for a full five seconds until she finally broke down into an evil cackle. Then I killed her. Little joke. Humour is a good thing to maintain at 3am in a 24 hour coffee shop. (more…)
by Katie Heffring and Emily Heffring like so:
One plus one equals four hundred and seventy-three text messages over a course of three months
The spaghetti soaked her hands as it slipped through her fingers… staring, waiting, smoking. (more…)
