Carre St. Louis

The vernal wicked is on! Carre St. Louis is so hot right now. A few of last summer's regulars roam the soggy veldt, bum's roar majestically from various corners of the enclosure, dog walkers and dope dealers, head bangers and nursing seniors all convene in some sort of Blur-y ParkLife. This is like a farmer's almanac for the urbs: if Guilhomme drops his pants and yells at you, you can know Spring is oooon! He dropped his pants. Be there for around 3.30, and I'm sure he'll reiterate his sentiments for you too.

Yesterday, we met a few people who'd convened to reach accord with their lives. A fed-up construction worker who was tired of the teamsters and local gangsterism asked us for some advice between pulls on his stogie. Steve and I said, Go West. I was pushing for the Island, as subcontractors are swamped, some as backlogged as 2 years, and the lifestyle is wondrous. In the end, it seemed like we talked him round into selling his truck and making the plunge. A dude pulled up opposite us while we were talking to the disgruntled wide-neck. Turned out he was just moving back from Newfoundland, but'd gone to school in Ottawa. When pressed, he said Lisger. I asked if he knew Carolyn Jack, and he'd said he'd dated her! Turns out he was Mark Gilespie, the guy who'd purportedly later ventured into erotic entertainment under the alias Luke Loader. Well, I was tickled by this coincidence, but then, that's why I go to that park: to meet people. Other notable CSL personalities: Rollerblading Leprechaun (does crazy stunts, other than wearing hot-pants almost exclusively. Catch him at Tam-Tams), Sideshow Bob, Trenchcoat Predator (he was doing laps, probably with a colouring book under his coat), a random air-guitar guy who was wearing earphones with severed wires, someone walking her rabbit... and that's just the superficial layer. This park gets involved!