M I just finished reading the Rant Line™ and I noticed that nobody talked about the White Stripes’ concert. It was an amazing show, and to all the people that missed it, shame on you. There was a VIRTUOSO in your midst and you missed it. [BLEEP!]

F Hey, this is to those members of the Mensa Society who were at the Sigur Ros show last week and found it absolutely necessary to break that perfect moment of silence. If you ever show your faces out at any show ever again, I’ll know who you are and I’ll beat your ass. I’ll beat it so hard! I’ll beat you back to the fucking medieval times!! [BLEEP!]

M In answer to a question, OBEY is a

company that pays people to put up those posters—either in cash or in clothes. That’s why you see them all over town. [BLEEP!]

M Hello, Montreal, this is a LOCAL STREET BUM. I’ve been a street bum for six years now and I’ve got something to say to everybody out there, okay? First things first, to the CHANGE JINGLERS—those are the people who stick their hands in their pockets and jingle their change as they pass me—and the people who pretend I do not exist, as well as the people that feel that it’s necessary to insult me, do you get a sense of pride from this? I’m honestly curious here. Do you actually feel more manly or powerful after belittling a fellow human? Does it make you feel better? I want to know. And to all those people who give me smiles and “No, sorry” and change, thank you very much for acknowledging my presence. It gives a great sense of honour to me, because you guys have no idea what it’s like to be a street person. I wish that for just one week one of these rich bastards could be on the street sitting on their ass for four to five hours straight, saying, “Spare change, spare change.” Tell me that’s not a fucking job! So to the next person who tells me to get a fucking job, get on your fucking knees and give me a fucking job. It’s been a while since I had one. [BLEEP!]

M The reason Montrealers are so mean to McGill students from out of town is because you are the RUDEST individuals we’ve ever had move into our neighbourhoods. You sit out in front of your places drinking till 1:30, you have little pow-wows, you talk as loud as humanly possible—as if you’re on a cell phone at all times—and you show up drunk at clubs, come in, party your faces off and then walk home and tell the entire neighbourhood every stupid little thing that happened to you. You’re gross, you’re disgusting and you don’t even know how to dress well. And on top of it, you stand around all night at the clubs, looking at us like we’re looking at you thinking that you’re hot, but unfortunately we’re just trying to figure out how the hell you decided to wear what you chose to wear that night. [BLEEP!]

F The only piece of advice I can give to out-of-town McGill students is: watch and learn. Look around you. What the hell is different between you and everybody else? [BLEEP!]

F Why do Montrealers hate McGill students? Well, every September we deal with an influx of over-privileged, drunken FRAT FROSH JOCKS who puke on our sidewalks, yell outside our windows and invade our bars so that we have nowhere left to hang out. You’re all attending some PSEUDO-IVY LEAGUE school that most of us don’t have the funds to go to. Plus, most of you even refuse to speak French. We have been invaded by McGill students for decades and you’re all the same to me. [BLEEP!]

M Well, it has just been confirmed what I’ve always suspected: a lot of FOOTBALL PLAYERS are gay. [BLEEP!]

M I’m calling for blanket immunity. People go off their MEDICATION for a reason—because of awful side effects—but then what happens is that you get paranoid. How do you fix the paranoia? You drink JACK DANIELS. What happens then is you get fucking mental and enraged. I don’t know if I called the Rant Line™ this week, but I’m asking you guys to disregard it if you heard a bunch of RAVING. In that state, I’m fucking retarded. I don’t remember anything this week! I can’t afford to be like this! I used to box with THE HILTONS, for fuck’s sake—I’m lucky I haven’t woken up in jail yet. I need to find an alternative—maybe beer is better than Jack? But it’s like The Exorcist, and the spirit’s name is Jack. [BLEEP!]

M Yeah, here’s my rant. Why do COPS ON HORSES get to drop the biggest loads of shit everywhere without having to pick it up? I got two little Shih Tzus, I always got bags in my pocket, but I’m up on the mountain, I had to step in a pile of hay fucking horseshit—this shit’s fucking ridiculous! [BLEEP!]

Next week: Open forum