Curse Bell!

I arrived safely in Montreal on Saturday, to find a suspiciously clean apartment. I'm a little concerned that a single thirty year-old with a bong can keep house better than us, but no matter. All my energy is currently concentrated on wishing Bell a painful and drawn-out death. I even hope that Alexander Graham Bell is being prodded in the ass by Satan, if there's an afterlife. Heck, I'm even thinking of switching to a religion with an afterlife so that I can fervently pray for this event.

Yes, I'm having technical and billing issues... why do you ask? Is it because I've been repeatedly stabbing a stuffed beaver in effigy of the Bell mascots? And I want to dance in their entrails and make a hat out of their little beaver livers? Because I am. National animal, or no national animal, the next beaver I see industriously chewing down a sapling is getting punted into the next field.

But it hasn't been all rage blackouts and psychotic thoughts. La Roomate and I hit up the free movies downtown with friends to see Bon Cop Bad Cop, and we wandered through Lush and ended up buying a few massage bars. I also finished my Bobbi Bear, with Fu Manchu, but sent him back to Guelph. I'll post pictures once I figure out how to transfer them from my new cellphone. Until then, I'll be constructing a small ranch house out of cardboard boxes, and wondering how I ended up with 8 sticks of deodorant.