I always hated "The Story Of The Blues"

"Full time twat", more like.

I consider advertising for friends

My existing friends - who I have collected over the years much as a collecting type might collect rare butterflies, jewels or spiders - are insufferably selfish and have chosen to stay where they are (e.g. London, Amsterdam, New York, Sydney, Bedford, San Fransisco, Little Tew, Glasgow, etc) rather than moving to Montreal so they can be my friends at my leisure and at my convenience.
Because they are all bastards, I am going to have to replace them all - but the question is: how?

I have met a few wankers over the last two years, but none of them have been in Montreal (which is where I live - there were a couple of close 'wanker!' calls in Toronto, mind you, but what did you expect?); one particularly gigantic wanker that springs to mind is*:

Mr Dave, of Dave and Dave Estate Agents, London . This vile little man was the freeholder of the flat I have just sold in Brixton. A deceitful, avaricious, dishonest little shit; if you find this post by searching for him, drop me an email at nonworkingmonkey@mac.com and I'll tell you why you should avoid all dealings with him if you value your a) sanity; b) self-respect. (Subsequent note, April 2010: I won't testify, give evidence etc, so don't ask, but I will happily make you feel that you are not alone with the little sod.  If you are buying a flat/house etc and this man owns the freehold, tread very, very carefully.)  With any luck by now he's afflicted by anal boils, but just in case - if you happen to live near him, could you slip a note under his door that reads: "You, sir, are a cunt"? Cheers.

But: to the point. I am in Montreal, which is remarkably wanker-free, so it is relatively easy to meet people you would like to see again. I need English friends for the same reasons I had my English friends in England (lunchtime drinking, sending each other photographs of enormous cats, talking about Rhubarb and Custard, etc)**, but it is quite hard to find English people in Montreal, so I am going to have to advertise.

Here is the advertisement I am in the middle of composing; I may post it to "Craig's List" or similar. Who can tell. OK here goes.

WANTED: English (from England) people in Montreal needed for lunchtime drinking with English (from England OR British from the British Isles, e.g. Scottish, Welsh - also Irish, North or South) person, also in Montreal.

I look good in a fez, enjoy absinthe, pulling on my small clay pipe and eating Hula-Hoops (when in Great Britain). I like Canadians a lot but most of them do not get most of my jokes (and it is not because I am not funny).

YOU are not an idiot, and get annoyed when people tell you they think your accent is cute. You do not only 'hang out' with other English people because you know that just because you are English does not mean you have anything in common with each other. You may well be called Tony, Paul or Helen. (If you are called Julie or Marie-something, you are definitely French Canadian and will not be able to deceive me.)


It is OK if:

You have Marmite in your cupboard and/or buy it from Fouvrac on Laurier Est for $3.75 for an appropriately bilingual jar

You can't answer when they ask you what kind of tea English people drink all day

You might have heard about The Sparrow but don't want to look like a massive cock by going in and ordering Bubble and Squeak in an English voice

The idea of being called an 'ex pat' makes you a bit sick in your mouth

You can speak French, what with living in Montreal and all

You do not secretly wish you were in Toronto

You think the CBC is a bit rubbish and think the Canadian dragons are wetsies

You find it mildly entertaining that Michael Ignatieff is no longer on BBC2 being an intellectual, but instead possibly going to be the next Prime Minister of Canada

You like drinking at lunchtime

It is not OK if:

You cock on about how great England/the UK is the whole time like a spazzer

You order British food online

You do not have any Canadian friends

You wish you were there, not here

You keep Googling "expat clubs Montreal".



What do you think? Will it work? Any tips?


* Eagle-eyed readers will have noticed the removal of my previous reference to this person.

** NB: this is as much for the person I am marrying as it is for me, as he does not like talking about for e.g. fishfingers and the Observer magazine or what-have-you.

I like this

I couldn't agree more

I make some comparisons

I have a friend visiting from London! It is quite the thing. We go to a cabane à sucre and drink pints of maple syrup straight from the bottle whilst gnawing on meat pie and fisting beans into our mouths; we slide backwards dowhill on the ice; we play directionless charades in a log cabin, and we drive across an ice bridge:

















But whilst we are enjoying the many and manifold delights of Canadia, something becomes apparent, and it is this: all the small things I notice about what is different here are exactly the same things that my visitor notices! It is great. It is possibly because she is from England, and so am I.

Toothmugs

When I am rinsing out my mouth after brushing my teeth, I spit the water in the basin and then sup like a hungry gnu from the tap.

I do not own a toothmug. If there is a cup/receptacle by the sink, it is for the placement of toothbrushes. (3-piece bathroom sets are beyond the pale to my mind, although quite normal here, even amongst people who have been to school.)

Friend (upon entering bathroom): Ha ha ha! A toothmug!
Me: I know!
(We hoot with laughter.)
Canadian: This is funnier than drinking straight out of the tap?

Note: I suspect this might be something to do with English snobbery - the type that leads us to think that things like double glazing, fitted carpets (or indeed anything comfortable) is slightly vulgar.

Duvets vs. comforters

In my land, which is England, the duvet exists so that you do not need multiple sheets, blankies etc. Here it is usual to call it a 'comforter' and you put a sheet underneath said 'comforter' so you don't have to wash the 'comforter cover'.

I am enraged by this! The whole fucking point of duvets (or "contintental quilts", as I believe some people still call them!!), is to get rid of sheets and blankies in the style of old person's houses and wash the 'duvet cover' as one would a sheet, etc. And I am enraged mainly because I hate this spare sheet with all my being; I get tangled it in and it makes me angry like this: grrr.

Gigantic hobs/stove tops

Electric rings mainly, with about a foot of space between each ring that serves no purpose (other than giving you more room to put things). "My God, it's so ... NORTH AMERICAN!", exclaims my guest. And she's right: they're just big, like everything is, possibly because there's so much spare space to chuck around on for e.g. gigantic hobs and ice rinks.

Top loading washing machines

"Weird. I hate those. They break your bras". Yes, exactly.

Washing up liquid dispensers

... in a sort of unit with a little thing that holds your sponge. Rubbish, hard to fill, squirt their washing-uppy jizz all down their own sides, get clogged up, provide ample opportunity for sponge thing to breed bubonic plague-type diseases and are almost everywhere in Canada, like hockey, Tim Hortons, healthy people, clean air and 3 litre bottles of Maple Syrup.

Update!!! Elizabeth of British Columbia writes: "I just can't picture this. Can you provide a photograph?" Yes, Elizabeth. I can. Here it is:











But this is just the beginning!! Coming soon: why there are no number plates on the front of cars, and why Canadian ads all feature a combination of the following:

1. Jingly jangly acoustic music;
2. Astonishingly patronising voiceover supplied by one of the four voiceover artists working in Canada today;
3. Women in the kitchen offering up 'meal solutions' to their ungrateful families.

It is very strange.

Pip pip!