by JACK OATMON

Montreal! My heart swells to hear her name! Perhaps the only city where, instead of getting chased down and given a fine for skateboarding, cycle-cops give you shout-outs on your manhole-gap-to-intersection manual. True story. By the by, fellow thrashers-slash-party-crashers, we’re soon to have our Friday nights covered, thanks to Peer Pressure, known purveyors of fine, quality booty-shaking events. Starting on August 11, they’ll be spreading their bad influence to HQ Club (812 Rachel E.). In the meantime, the L.D. (lowdown, that is) from the D.L. (Jones, that is), is that Peer Pressure’s first anniversary will see Cosmo Baker and Low Budget joining A-Rock and Hatchmatik at les Saints on Sunday for some happy-birthday tomfoolery, so throw on your birthday suit and prepare to get shitfaced and lippy.

Yes, Montreal! Indeed, when thousands of queers flood into town for grand-scale debauchery and general scantily-garbed shenanigans, how many other business communities take the laudable official policy of “word up, let’s get stoopid”? That said, Pride sees more than one-too-many parties to mention, but my pricks… er, picks of the glittery litter are as follows: You g-g-g-gotta go to local fave Plastik Patrik’s two free Sex Garage outdoor concerts at St-Denis and deMaisonnneuve. Saturday’s got Gravy Train!!!!, the Call Up and Frigid live. (Pssst! Sunday, downstairs at le Parking, Frigid’s secret guest is Tommie Sunshine. Holy moley! Come wearing bondage…) Sunday’s Sex Garage will be the biggest reason I’ve heard to miss Piknic since that time the zombies attacked the medieval guys at tamtams. We Are Wolves. Need I gesticulate?

Ah, Montreal, penultimate location to find confusingly beautiful people, second only to downtown Barcelona (sorry, everybody, but I cannot tell a lie). And just where do these cuties congregate to get their eyeballs vibrated out of their sockets by the world’s premier electro and noise outfits? Voyeur, at the SAT, that’s where. This Saturday, August 5 is the seventh installment, with England’s foreboding, shifty-eyed trio, Motor, who live up to that weighty moniker with grisly beats that suggest a soundtrack to a bipolar breakdown. The video game on their Web site is dope too. The music changes in reaction to the player turning, jumping and running over pedestrians or whatever. WhyAlexWhy? and Jordan Dare are on the wax.

I ask of you, where else than in the 514 can a guy get bought not one but two $200 bottles of champagne for thoughtfully complimenting an errant economist on his smashing socks-shirt match (okay, okay, so I was rolling with the two sweetest lasses in sight, but it was still amazing fortune)? Lovely Montreal, we salute you for these and other such gifts, including, but not limited to, the stoop at Euro Deli, Gilles Duceppe, Plateau haircuts and Wednesdays at the Museum of Contemporary Art. Huzzah!

Speaking of ol’ Gilles, I saw him representin’ at Outgames and the Pride Parade, along with various other politicians. I noticed the regrettable lack of our Prizz-ime Ministron. Oh well, we didn’t want him there anyway.

FELICITATIONS, OUTGAMES! jack.oatmon@gmail.com

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