Woke up early for our hostel’s shitty complimentary breakfast, got drunk, and hit the streets. A block away from our hotel was a small park at Place Emile-Gamelin with over-sized Chess sets. We started a game and were discussing how cool it was that Montreal was safe enough for something like this to exist unsupervised when a supervisor came over and told us that we were supposed to sign up to play or something. Oops.

We decided to take Gavin’s advice and walk the length of St. Laurent. Along the way we passed by both Schwartz’s and the Main. Although everyone had recommended having a smoked meat sandwich, there was a debate over where to have it so we decided to split up. Everyone who had the smoked meat sandwiches at Schwartz’s was fucking astounded.

I headed for the Main because I’m a vegetarian and Schwartz’s didn’t have poutine (meat-based gravy, I know, but I had to eat something Canadian-y; get off my fucking back). Just like Anonymous Q. Mootenstein claimed, it was served by a “surly assed waitress” and it was fucking delicious. The only carnivore at the table made the mistake of opting for the chicken sandwich, so we’ll never get to settle the “which smoked meat place is better” debate.

(My girlfriend is half Japanese so she had to resist the urge to rape and pilage as we made our way through Chinatown.)

Continuing down St. Laurent we passed through a bunch of different ethnic neighborhoods, but the only one that really stood out was Chinatown because it wasn’t dirty, smelly or overpopulated, which is a radical departure from every other Chinatown I’ve ever seen.

We ended up next to the river in Old Montreal, which had a pier and a ton of tourist-y shit…

…like interracial families running rampant on quadracycles. Although taylor advised us to avoid the stuff that was obviously for tourists, we decided to rent a couple of quadracycles.

My friend made an interesting point when he noted how strange it is that human beings will pay significantly more money for impractical means of transportation.

It’s a rule amongst New Yorkers that anytime you go abroad, you must have pizza and invariably shit on it. We ordered this pie from Restaurant Palais Montcalm, some joint near our hostel, and it sucked dick.

On a suggestion from, the Fool, who was nice enough to email me a long list of shit to do in Montreal, we hit up the bar Blue Dog.

The fact that we had to pay a cover sucked, but the place was alright; moderately priced drinks, a crowd that wasn’t totally shitty, and a dance floor.

The DJs we’re decent, playing a mix of old funk and new pop. I wasn’t feeling the latter, but you really can’t trash on DJs who actually have a sense of humor because they’re so rare.

Lesson of the Day: Canadians are Babies

No wonder you people have a welfare state. You guys can barely wipe your own asses.

Now, there’s nothing pussy about having alarms in subway cars. The underground is the number one breeding place for crazies so shit is constantly going down there. We have the something similar in New York so I can understand having an alarm for a medical emergency or a fire…

…but bullying? Really? Didn’t you people go through elementary school? Do you still cry for your mothers when you scrap your knees?

These were the open hours of an ice cream shop and yes, they vary according to the weather. I guess it makes sense to close shop if it’s raining, but you close early when it’s cloudy? Do clouds make you “le tired”?

And then we have these two full grown man-babies, blowing bubbles off their balcony. Unless they’ve just taken a fist full LSD followed by a medicine cabinet full of ecstasy, this is completely unacceptable.

Related posts:

1. A NEW YORKER IN MONTREAL: PRELUDE
2. A NEW YORKER IN MONTREAL: DAY ONE
3. STREET CARNAGE IN MONTREAL
4. A NEW YORKER IN TEXAS
5. MISFITS VS DANZIG