fantastic that you should find yourself here. im here, you're here. please feel free to 'perooze' this here stuff. its full of fantat. check it out. and i hope afterwards, you realize, that, ive touched you deep in your heart. and that ive touched your moms, deep in their pants.

12.16.2004

cereal is good, serial is good

ah. it indeed has been a long while since I have brought to you the pleasures of my life. but friends, this has been a tumultuous time for le shal. much has happened. many idiots have been involved. weeks filled with the obscene, with the low IQ'd, with the stench of idiocy. much mess was made and cleaned. much problems have arisen, and have crumbled under the will of le shal. however, not without the help of many. le shal is seeing the end of these tremors of uncomfort and has returned with many a story to tell.

here is one.

many times have I brought you the escapades that pursue me during my time in the underground expanse called the montreal metro system. and friends, I tell you, this next one is frightening to the point that you will think three times, maybe four, before you ever lick a metro platform floor again.

after a night of work, i was relieved to be out in the fresh air, enjoying the short walk from office-habitat to metro-station. plans for the rest of the evening were swirling in my head, and the prospect of eating dorito's and hot dogs was pleasing my pants. i pushed through the heavy entrance doors and stepped onto the empty escalator and let it carry me down into the depth that is the city bowels. the ever-evolving fantasy of midgets running the escalator system once again played in my head. i stepped off the metal staircase and walked around to the turnstyles. i swiped my pass and smiled at the lonely attendant as i walked thru.

as i reached the stairs to the platform, the prospect of being home felt even better. maybe it was the transition from the cold outdoors to the warmth of the tunnels or maybe it was the littered floors that reminded me of the recent experiances with the over-stayed-guest-of-a-recently-departed-roomate. either way, i was happy to almost be there.

now, my normalities when metro-platform-standing-locationing or M.P.S.L invloves me planning out my whole trip on the metro, including connecting metroes, in advance. therefore, i stand in the right places so that my final destination's exit is in front of the metro car that I get off of at the end. nerdy i know. but i get home faster than you do.

so, i walked to my regular bench and sat down. i noticed the man with the coke bottle glasses was there again. i noticed his purple lunch bag, his armful of dvds and his intensely red face. i reached into my trusty bag, filled with all my essentials, and pulled out my literature for the ride. as i settled into the words on the page i glanced up and saw a well dressed man on the platform across. he was admiring one of the six foot posters that are plastered throughout the system, advertising one french film or some obscure technical school for the obesely retarded. as i looked back to my book, a funny thought occured to me. i giggled a giddy school girl giggle at the prospect and looked back up at the man.

he wasn't admiring anything.

not unless he was admiring the steady stream of urine that was hitting the wall and ground in front of him.

yes you heard/read me correctly. a man. a man in his late twenties. a well dressed man was urinating on a metro platform. and after he was done relieving himself, he zipped back up and sat down as if it was normal.

are we on earth? do we live in a toilet? who does that? what thoughts were going through this mans mind while he was unzipping, peeing, and even after. did he get away with something? shouldnt he be punished? are there people to police this kind of thing? can i report him? i mean, its not like he was peeing in a bush with a three hour rest-stopless trip ahead of him.

there have been so many times that i myself have been wanting to urinate while in a public place. but i have kept my pee inside, until my friend the toilet or urinal comes around. but apparently its okay to let it flow when and where i choose. and so, my friends, as the world spirals down into further depths of insanity, with its streets filled with renegade 12 year old thugs, 13 year old hooches and the metro peeing man, don't be surprised if one day, upon the bus or metro , you hear the friendly spatter of liquid-splash. for it will be your dear chum, le shal, exercising his civic rights.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

sometimes the bladder can't wait for the presence of a toilet bowl. i know this from first-hand experience. strategically placed locations around the city are filled with remnants of my pee. will this madness end? not on my watch.

5:15 PM

 

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