Montreal was a great vacation! But, before I get into the nitty gritty of the weekend, I discovered, like an animated Ghandi in his high school cafeteria, I was blessed by the gift of Rhyme.

Standing outside a place on St. Laurent in Montreal, waiting to get into Lodge Taverne with some overly enthusiastic McGill students, I was struck with the lyrical epiphany.

Waiting to party where da ballz 'aven't dropped. The girls look like sluts but theyz cherries ain't popped.


The follow up track came the next night when faced with folks snorting blow.

Snort Snort it's cocaine. Up my nose and to my brain


The hits didn't stop there! Because I'm a lyrical gangsta!

Poor baby snores. Our cries she ignores - but, when we push her ovah she falls on da floor. WHAT!


Rhyming is exhausting. I need to take a break.