My Impertinence

I have already been in love with the city of Montreal both by the city and by its inhabitants. But that time is behind since Montrealers believed that he could seize the rest of Quebec to achieve their social project. Many times, Montrealers shouted from the rooftops that the rest of Quebec understood nothing of Quebec and that we had to be evangelized. Poor little me… I have 21 years of schooling and I don't understand… neither does my neighbor. We're going to have to sit down on the school benches to take “comprehension 101” courses. I heard from the spouse of a Montreal sculptor that the weapon of artists was art. Does this mean that the other pros will be able to furnish firearms or bladed weapons. It's disarmingly logical or perhaps a bit gypsy… well… well. Politics, sports, cinema, theatre, shows, television, and so on, have become the “comfortable places” of these pseudo-Montrealers. How can we believe these proselytes of the tabarnak, the stie or the kalice who, aft...

When I turned sixty, I said to myself: “Here I am in a separate category”. But I never thought that older people would be marginalized so much. There are those ... I should especially those, but not all ... who try to impose their laws according to the place they occupy in the group. Their apartment in multiple residences, their place in the bus, their seat in the restaurants, their space in the car and I would add the sidewalks, the stores and the cinemas… are the strong points of their cavalcade. I have to stop, I'm going crazy. It must be said, the matriarchal regime was well established even before feminist groups showed up. I go beyond saying that the majority of feminists have claimed the same power outside the home as they had inside. The mothers on my street always had their husband's pay on Fridays at 5 o'clock. They administered without conditions. I inherited and adopted this culture and I'm not dead... at least not yet. Except that today, I realize that thes...

I told you that my "ZESTE", my favorite cable channel, had been taken away from me. I found it… I found my Nigella and its beautiful little dishes. Since this was a test show and the "sell-out" time had passed according to my cable provider, the system cuts the line automatically. Long live high technology of which I am a servile follower. Customer service has understood the great pain I am experiencing and have agreed to reactivate my program. There was one condition... sacrificing another channel. Well, imagine that I agreed to lose a famous channel… DISCOVERY… What is discovery… don't know, but what wouldn't we do to recover Nigella. Yes … I am a great romantic and I am unable to remain inactive in front of a nice lady who is lost. I see myself with my friend Paul, a valiant knight also it goes without saying, delivering all those who are deprived of their "those". Life is beautiful … minstrel sings us an ode to reunion.

It starts raining. A few drops fall on what I have left of my hair, because I have just left the hairdresser… my sister who is my hairdresser thinks I look better with short hair… but I am already missing at least half of it on my skull. I want to take my bus… O.P.S. but the storm is ahead of me. A deluge, nothing less. A lady who arrives with a bang…like a storm…laughs. I'm like, "Hey, she's laughing at me! but no, she asks me with a smile if I have my umbrella, because she would like to take shelter. I feel generous ... She is waiting for the 802, too, 802 which finally arrives! The lady and I line up to get on, but with so many people waiting… it's going to be a sport. I am. She thinks I'm gallant, but no, I don't want to box everyone to make room for me. The woman, we let her pass and we follow her with a look of a husband … like a little dog. A composition role that suits me well. This lady and I are still chatting when a drunken man parks right next to me...

In the early 1960s, we were all students partying on St-Jean Street in Quebec City during "THE" Carnival parade. We were huddled together on a sidewalk less than 5 feet...ahem...hey guys, watching the parade of "parade floats" and majorette "bodies"...it was really the bodies we were looking at. The perfect spectator's equipment consisted of 2 things… the cane with its energy drink… gin and orange juice… and, I give you a thousand, a vuvuzela… Quebecers and their carnivals are always 40 years ahead. .. But let's be honest, there aren't many spectators who remember this equipment, because the cane and the vuvuzela don't mix well. You'll try to get your cane screamed in your ears with a 130 decibel device when you've drunk your cane. The 5 minutes of soccer that I saw, including the advertisement on the vuvuzela, made me understand why the times of madness on the part of spectators and players. Surely they didn't take their "...

Few months ago , I felt like seeing Nigella on my Zeste. She cooks with so much sensualism that all I can think about is eating. Fortunately, I control myself. What was my surprise to find that my cable company had taken away "my show". Rage, anger and disappointment, I spoke to my TV set which has 42 inch plasma. My Nigella Lawson is said to be one of the leading lights of English cuisine. His cuisine is joyful, delicious, uncomplicated and yet very refined. Alive and sparkling, she... I see her with her pink or turquoise sweater... cooking for me... she is no longer there... a mourning to live for a week perhaps! A week is a long time in a man's life! But come to think of it...I also won't be seeing Katie Lee Joel from the Chiefs fight for a few days either. Oh, woe! This referee who has a look to melt the freezer and its contents will not be in front of my screen. I'm in depression... But again, no more Claudia Bassols, this Spanish actress who tastes everythin...

Full of the unexpected and above all of adventure, the 802, my occasional means of transport, is a curious bus route, especially because of its passengers. Women and men, young and old, rich and poor, beautiful (also beautiful, depending) and old (also old, depending) rub shoulders, rub shoulders, look at each other and above all comment on the behavior of others. passengers. The best performances are given between 4:00 pm and 5:30 pm. First, the passengers sweat all day and, if I were racist, I would say some and some, more than others. To believe that we don't have the same "nose"... too easy. Now the best places are in the center. It's like the arena of UFC...for those who don't know, it's about fights where everything is allowed except the blows in the "parts"...Free hand wrestling (to hold on to something), pankration (to get rid of the "gluers") and boxing (to get out through the door or the frame, it depends) are the usual means. But...

I noticed that the two words are said with the same pronunciation in French and in English. As I am always in the why ... because I know the how ... the statement leads me to ask myself this question above all to know which is more important, the egg (read soccer) or the hen (read sucker) in other words the team or the player. Here it is... THE QUESTION... I have a few "minutes" of listening to the famous Mundial and I have read some articles in the newspapers and on the internet. I confess that I really like what happens outside of the game. Again...the why...because the show is there...yes, yes, it really is. You could call it the mundial of the sucker. It is clear that football players have quibbles, quarrels and hassles in their blood. France, England and Italy, and many more to come, have players who like to work their jaw muscles better than their leg muscles. Their head being reserved for the shows on the ground, that is to say the tears and the gnashing of teeth witho...

Headphones in my ears, the music smashes my eardrums like when I was twenty. I continue to love Frankie Valli whom the Jersey Boys replaced with twice as many musicians and backup singers. I want to stay up to listen to this stupid song, but a white-haired man who thinks he's younger than my own gray hair offers me his seat. It's no longer my stupid song that I listen to, it's this man's face that annoys me and diminishes me. A young woman who reads my thoughts, gives me a smile that has the effect of a balm on my wounded pride. On his waistcoat that hides a huge chest, it is written: "Appearance is more important than knowledge"... Finally, a truth to ponder. A place becomes available next to this woman, a place she offers me ... without waiting, I sit down ... I rejuvenate. My neighbor who talks to me about her work and her boyfriend always ends her sentence with her beautiful smile. Two rules run the human being: "The 20 to 50 year olds who are in the....

An adult fantasy...a blog! Telling people what I think...telling some truths. Demagoguery irritates me and I know what others don't. I will say everything and you may be confused .., due ... due! The irony is a vehicle that looks like a buffet...there are hot dishes and cold dishes. You will have it on the menu. I have a weakness for helping the less fortunate! I'll tell you about it... P.S. a reader named Linda... a common name you tell me... tells me that I make mistakes. She's right, but I just want to make sure she reads everything. I have great values.