THIS WEEK: Meat, Morrissey, Mr. Montreal!

PLUS: Men with hats!!

M Hi Rant Line™. I’m just calling about this picture in last week’s Mirror of the Satellite Maps. This has got to be the most BORING band I have ever seen in my life. What the hell are the two guys in the middle doing in a band at all? They look like SOCIOLOGY PROFESSORS from McGill. You describe them as fucking “mood-rich, slow-fi, alt-folk/chamber rock”—what the fuck is that shit? We’ve gone too far with the hipsters, we’ve gone too far with the indie rock! Please never mention the Satellite Maps ever again. Ban them from the Earth. Thank you. [BLEEP!]

F You know what? Fuck Morrissey. He won’t play Canada because of the SEAL HUNT policy. I’m all for the fucking seal hunt. Although he’ll play in TURKEY at the drop of a hat and Turkey has no animal rights whatsoever. Dink. [BLEEP!]

F Yeah, this is to the girl who thinks she’s cool for eating MEAT—well, for eating veal, actually. I hope someone eats your BABY. [BLEEP!]

F I’m going to have a gigantic roast of BEEF with creamy, creamy smooth mashed potatoes with tons of gravy and Yorkshire pudding—a ton of Yorkshire pudding—and peas and I’m going to listen to the Clash. [BLEEP!]

M Hey guys, didn’t you know that Keith Richards is actually a transvestite? Yeah, yeah, he’s transgender! And he has a parallel career. Under his other sex, he has a career under the name Amy Winehouse. Thank you. [BLEEP!]

M To the ladies asking about Joey from Final Flash, you can find him on his DJ night at Rockettes on Tuesdays. He gets pretty drunk so even if you are disgusting, at least he’ll have his BEER GOGGLES on. [BLEEP!]

F Saturday, I met this really hot guy named JACK. Jack, with the blond hair, blue eyes, red shirt. I was that little Asian girl you invited over to your house. First, I said no, now I regret it. So if you still want to sleep together, I’ll be at B-Side. Okay, bye. [BLEEP!]

M I’m overjoyed to see HATS on men coming back in style. It’s almost the type of hat my father might have worn when he went to work in the morning, you know? Saying CHEERIO and stuff like that. I’m looking at one right now in an advertisement, at Le Complexe des Ailes, and the gentleman is a young fellow and he’s wearing one of those hats that might have been worn long ago. I was hoping maybe that the Mirror could get in touch with the OLDER GENERATION out there and ask them what the importance of hats were to them. You know, people in their 80s or 90s. Get in touch with the people that had hats way back when. Anyway, God bless. [BLEEP!]

M I’m sick of this French numbering system, putting everything together like it’s on a goddamn ABACUS. Like, we’re the generation that managed to put 100 gigabytes onto a microchip and we still say 98 as four 20s plus 10 plus 8. You know, I’m done with it. [BLEEP!]

M Hey, so I’m reading the Mirror when I see this picture promoting the new version of Fame and it’s allegedly set in a high school for performing arts. And here are these dancers in stockings and high heels. Now, I don’t know what kind of school for the performing arts this is—or perhaps it’s a school for aspiring strippers, actually, that might make the movie more interesting to see—but I went to music school and the DANCING GIRLS were not wearing that. Looks more like they’re dancing for tips instead of dancing for some sort of education. Oh well, enjoy the movie. [BLEEP!]

M I have a feeling that if I hear that SONG one more time, I’m going to blow my fucking head off. [BLEEP!]

F I’m calling because the people of Montreal need to know that they can tip their piercers and tattoo artists. I work in a shop and people are CHEAP. If you can afford a piercing or a tattoo, you can afford to tip. I mean, you tip your bartender, you tip your waitress, you tip your haircutter, why not your piercer or your tattoo artist? That’s it. Thanks. [BLEEP!]

M Yo, this is for that cum-hungry cumbucket of a motherfucker who was pissed off that I was pissed off that a club was allowing people to SMOKE. Firstly, you piece of shit, why would I stay home, you’re the hungry smoker-of-a-bitch. And thanks for informing us about drugs and alcohol, you slut. If you like smoking so much, how about you and your overweight slut friends in SKINNY JEANS go outside and smoke like any other normal person? Hello?! So lesson of the day: you’re a smoking slut and should continue smoking until the day you die of cancer. [BLEEP!]

M Hi Rant Line™. My name is Mike but you can call me MR. MONTREAL. And I’m calling you because I don’t know who else to call. I don’t really have friends anymore. I grew up in this city, born and raised. I love this city. And I want to ask you people, do you think I’m wrong for calling myself Mr. Montreal? That’s what I want to ask you—do you think I’m wrong to be born and raised in this city and claim my fucking name? I love you, Montreal. I was a 13-year-old boy 10 years ago this time of year, beginning of October, who RAN AWAY from home. And I live in this city, on these streets, that I’m walking down in the rain tonight. I love this city and I don’t give a fuck. Correct me if I’m wrong and I love you. I know who I am and I love you. Good night, Montreal. [BLEEP!]

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