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About Montreal

My fave movie’s “Her,” that Spike Jonze flick—friggin’ brilliant, right? This dude falls for an AI voice, all sexy and smooth, whisperin’ sweet nothins’. Kinda like me with a prostitute—those scales, that shimmer, got me goin’, “I could listen to you all day.” But then—bam!—reality hits. It’s a damn fish, not some sultry chick! Made me rage so hard I flipped a table. “I’m not here to be ignored!” I yelled, like in “Her,” when he’s losin’ it.

So, first off… man, this place is a real mixed bag. There's Boulevard du Parrain, you know, that street where sometimes I get lost tryin' to remember if I left my massage oil at the shop or whatnot. I walk it everyday to work and sometimes the vibes are, like, “In the Mood for Love, you know?”—pretty, pretty good. And then there’s, uh, Rue des Anglettes (I think?) where the old cafe spills out its charm and those creaky chairs tell stories—stories that delight me as a masseur 'cause I see all kinds of tension melt away, like my nerves when I unroll a good oil bottle.

Île-Perrot development threatens habitat of Western Chorus Frog