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- YOU'RE WRONG!
- An Irregular Column
- by Mykel Board
- I was more out of place than a leg razor at a lesbian bar. It
- was the great ANARCHIST UNCONVENTION in Toronto. I figured
- there'd be lot's of sex, beer, and free food. And the best part;
- I could cause some trouble. Maybe the last issue of MRR had a
- report of what went on. Here's the truth
- I rode up there with Mike Gunderloy, editor of FACTSHEET
- FIVE. Mike's an anarcho-capitalist who believes, among other
- things, that highways should be privately owned and you should
- have a choice between driving on those that require a license and
- those that don't-- the latter presumably more expensive than the
- former.
- Mike planned to distribute a leaflet from some Chicago
- Anarchists. They didn't like the way things were run at the
- convention. They objected to senseless "death-demonstrations"
- that trashed things for no reason. They said that the
- organizers spend time raising money for food and future meetings
- and all of it winds up being used for bail. Besides rioting
- could give anarchists a bad name. The Chicagoans also objected
- to completely open workshops that included seemingly irrelevant
- topics. "What if someone proposes to give a workshop on 'Why
- Anarchists should join the Churches?'" They asked.
- The Toronto newspapers gave the convention a lot of hype. "15,000
- Anarchists, skinheads and Nazis to descend on Toronto," they
- said.
- Local politicians called for a full scale investigation of the
- city. How could they let a bunch of mostly foreign scum use a
- public Civic Center for their nefarious purpose? Organizers
- planned the auditorium for selling stuff, another big room as a
- daycare center, and the small rooms for a bunch of "workshops"
- on all kinds of things. The banana-colored journalists were
- outraged. Because of all the publicity, Mike and I decided to
- cross the border near Montreal, then drive on to Toronto.
- When I arrived I heard people shouting numbers. "Eight! Six!
- Forty two! One!" They said. They were all shouting at the same
- time, but each of them said a different number. I peeped into
- the room and saw that as they shouted, the people kicked up
- their legs, opened their arms wide or tilted their heads to the
- right or to the left. Everybody moved in unison, but no two
- people did the same thing at the same time. I looked at my
- schedule to see what this was. "Anarchist Aerobics Workshop,"
- it said.
- I went to find the "bomb making" workshop listed as being in
- room 723. Of course there was no room 723. All the other rooms
- were numbered randomly and those numbers kept changing every
- five minutes. I tried to find the men's room, but there were
- only two "person rooms." Hardline anarchists objected anyway.
- It was fascist to assign a specific function to a specific room.
- Each room should be allowed to seek its full potential and not
- be hampered by arbitrary human restrictions. That was
- "animist." People pissed in ashtrays and shat in coffee urns.
- None of that is true. I wish it were. Instead of anarcho-
- weirdness, I got hippies. Long haired, barefooted, patched
- clothed, hairy legged, dope smoking, love-in hippies. Punk
- hippies, homo hippies, lesbo hippies, veggie hippies. The free
- food was lentils and spinach-- mmmm boy! I went off to Colonel
- Sanders and spent the three days of the convention with a chicken
- bone in my mouth.
- You'd think that might rile up these organo-veggie hippies. Ho,
- ho, not the Canadians. They are so proper and polite you could
- gag. Steve B., one of my many hosts, said he saw a Canadian
- anarchist with a button that said, "QUESTION AUTHORITY. . .
- PLEASE." If it weren't for the Americans there, you could've
- never gotten a decent riot out of these folks. Fortunately the
- Chicago anarchists were right and there would be lot's of window
- breaking.
- The entire city reeked of veggies. Their big politicos were "The
- Kentucky Fried Five" who graffitied the local you-know-what.
- How radical! My hosts, Sean, Ruth, Al, and Ron were otherwise
- fine folks, but they just would not chew the bone. Two
- Californians and a Brit also stayed at this house. The three of
- them were part of the "vegans", an extreme veggie sect who wear
- veils over their faces so they didn't inadvertently inhale any
- insects. They carried their own Soyburger mix with them, just in
- case the local stuff was tainted. Of course they ate bread.
- "How could you eat bread?" I complained. "Don't you know that
- the wheat used to make that stuff is factory farmed? First it's
- cut down ruthlessly, while still alive, with no anaesthetic.
- Then it's herded like cattle up tiny shoots where it's
- sadistically ground into tiny slivers and packed like sardines
- to be cooked for your pleasure."
- They weren't too pleased with me.
- There were lots of homos up there. Besides the natives, came
- California computer wiz, Tommy J, and the truly flaming Tad K
- from Kansas. Tad took me to my first homo bar in Toronto, but
- it was too early for the action to have started. Over nice
- Canuk beer, Tad told me about his new band, THE GRATEFUL DEAD
- BOYS. An album should be out soon called, "Young, Loud and On
- Acid." The most interesting homo there was Bruce LaBruce,
- editor of JDs magazine and future guest editor of the all-homo
- issue of MRR. Bruce is the founder of the "homocore" music
- movement. He lives with this artist girl named Candy and their
- little female dog-- a pug. They make 8mm movies.
- Speaking of movies, he's got a sure winner you'll want to see.
- Dave D., of MDC stayed with Bruce while he was in town. After
- the MDC show, a punk girl stumbled up to Dave. He took her with
- us to Bruce's house. The girl varied in consciousness from semi
- to un. Because of her heavy use of eye make-up, you couldn't
- really tell if the lids were open or not. Back at the house,
- Bruce showed me his collection of film noir porno videos.
- Through the open door I saw Dave carry the crewcut girl into the
- bathroom.
- During an extremely arty blowjob on the TV screen, we heard Dave
- call out.
- "Bruce, come here quick! Bring your camera!"
- Dave and the semi conscious girl were in the shower. Dave had
- his face nuzzled between her legs and was licking furiously.
- Bruce ran in with the camera. The dog followed. I didn't.
- From the bedroom I heard running water, a gentle moaning, a
- slurping and an occasional yapping. It's all on film. That, by
- the way, was one of three MDC stunts that raised my opinion of
- the band 100%. Another was how they got into the country in the
- first place.
- You see, M.D.C. was banned from Canada for either politics or
- beastial sexual practices, I'm not sure which. In any case,
- they chose to brave the border to play for the anarchists. The
- band flew to Syracuse NY then waited in the airport for more
- than six hours. A Canadian finally picked them up and brought
- them to the U.S. side of an Indian reservation. That
- reservation spans both the U.S. and Canadian border. No national
- cops are allowed in. From inside the reservation, Indians canoed
- them across the river to the Canadian side. There, in the
- woods, they again had to wait in fear of helicopter cops.
- Finally they were brought out by I-can't-tell-you-who to play
- for the @-boys. Those guys have balls! (For proof, just ask Bruce to
- look at the movie.)
- Now let's back track. Let's go into the community center where
- all these "workshops" were happening. The organizers posted a
- schedule on the bulletin board. Vertically were listed the times
- of each workshop, horizontally were the room numbers. I looked
- down the schedule and saw the "wymyn's" workshop. (They like
- spelling it like that because "woman" has the word "man" in it.
- They want to avoid that. Get it?) In parenthesis was the
- notation, "wymyn only."
- Fortunately, there was a blank square under this listing. Even
- more fortunately, I had a pen with me. I filled in the square
- with a fake "Klanarchy workshop." In parenthesis, I made the
- notation, "whites only." I hope they would appreciate my biting
- satire. Within half an hour, my graffiti was crossed out.
- Within a full hour the entire poster was torn down so no one
- could read through the crossout.
- I went to a workshop called "Loving Alternatives." I liked the
- name and was attracted to the fact that it was being held right
- next to the "Animal Rights" workshop. I figured there should be
- some pretty wild alternatives if they combined the two. They
- didn't.
- About 50 people sat on the floor in a big circle. A bulky girl
- started things by explaining how she had formed this
- "arrangement" with her boyfriend so he could see another girl on
- Mondays and Wednsdays and she would get Tuesdays and Thursdays.
- Pretty daring, huh? Then people talked about their own ideas.
- The big problem was making sure that at all times the
- relationships involved "love and understanding."
- "What the fuck does love and understanding have to do with sex?"
- I asked. "Why should sex with someone involve love anymore than
- eating dinner with them?"
- Oh boy, did they get mad. I was just a stupid male, with a male
- understanding and girls felt the connection more deeply. I
- could just never understand how a womyn felt. Even the guys
- yelled at me for being "a man."
- The nasty thing was how I wasn't allowed to defend myself. This
- was an anarchist workshop, you see, so they had very strict
- rules. They couldn't have a leader or a moderator. Each
- speaker had to pick a person to follow him/her. You had to give
- everybody a chance, so you had to pick someone who hadn't spoken
- before. Of course, you weren't allowed to pick two boys in a
- row, because this would be sexist. You could never answer a
- challenge, because you had already spoken and you had to give
- someone else a chance. It was maddening!
- "Who does that guy think he is?" they'd say. "He doesn't see the
- beauty and mysticism of sex?" It got worse from there.
- Whenever I would try to defend myself, someone would shout, "You
- had your turn, let others speak." Eventually they got tired of
- yelling at me and started talking about themselves again.
- A great moment came when a pretty blond dutch girl spoke about
- how she was "an incest survivor." (Don't you just love these
- new phrases? I guess I'm a "suburb survivor".) Anyway, you
- could just smell the feminists' hackles rising slowly from
- wherever hackles raise. "Those evil men," they were stewing,
- "abusing their own relatives like that. Typical of penis
- mentality."
- The girl continued, "I was attacked by my sister. . . " Those
- hackles deflated and lay limp. I couldn't hold back the smile.
- Gradually, the workshop turned more and more into a group
- psychotherapy session. People took turns telling about their sex
- problems and what they did to overcome them. Each story tried to
- out-sensitize the others. Sometimes there was applause.
- One sensitive looking young man, who, if he wasn't barefoot,
- should've been, meekly raised his hand. "Right now," he said, "I
- am in pain." He brought his clenched hands to his chest. I
- gagged and left the room.
- Outside the building was a park-like space where some people
- frolicked in the garden and others tried to sensitive the nearest
- stranger into having meaningful sex with them. Tad introduced me
- to blond girl named Alex. He met her at the last @-fest and they
- became good pals. You'll read about my special "aura" later, but
- it was working then, because Alex said, "Hi," then walked away.
- Lisa Seagul, ARTLESS's first guitar player and composer of
- "We Want Nuclear War", walked right by me. I grabbed her.
- "What are YOU doing here?" she asked.
- "I got a ride." I said.
- Bob Z walked by. (Remember him? He's the guy who got $22,000
- worth of postering tickets from the NYC sanitation department?)
- Bob had a knapsack full of beer. He offered me one. We sat
- drinking on the grass. Bob finished his beer. I set mine down
- for a second. It was the same second that a pair of Toronto's
- Finest chose to pass by. They saw the half filled can in front
- of Bob and then opened his knapsack. Another beer, same brand.
- Yep, Bob, the ticket magnet, got another one, $53.75, for MY
- beer. Of course, Bob threw the ticket out-- or framed it.
- Bored with the playground, I hooked up with Tad K., Bruce LaBruce
- and this reporter for Canadian TV. We went drinking where it was
- legal. Over drinks we discussed anarchism, politics, sports and
- stuff I don't remember. I do remember making a rapier-witted
- remark that struck them cold. I can't remember what it was, but
- it must've been good, because Tad answered, "Did you have a hair
- transplant, Mykel?" There was a split second of dead silence and
- the conversation continued as if the question had never been
- asked.
- It's taken me a long time to figure it out, but I realize that
- people who try to embarrass you with physical remarks are
- admitting they've lost. It's like the "your mother wears combat
- boots" game that little kids play. Stephan, singer of THE
- FALSE PROPHETS, pulls this all the time.
- "So Stephan," I ask, "How come The False Prophets play at over 21
- clubs with big bouncers and rules that keep out punks and let in
- yuppies."
- "You're short and you're losing your hair." replies Stephan.
- Anyway, back in Toronto, Tad eventually went off to look for
- boys. It was getting late, so I went hunting up some chicken
- wings. I could've waited on line for three hours for the
- evening's free service of lentil guts and cabbage brains, but I
- decided against it.
- That evening the first Americans were arrested. The locals said
- it was immigration and not the Toronto cops who busted them.
- They drove a car with American license plates. Immigration
- stopped them and said that they must've lied at the border.
- Their reasoning was this: If they had told the border patrol
- that they were coming to Toronto for the anarchist convention,
- then they would not have been let in the country. Since they
- WERE let in the country, they must've lied at the border.
- Because they lied at the border, they were under arrest.
- "Pretty good reasoning," I thought, "those guys should be
- anarchists."
- During the day, I heard people talk about "the orgy house." It
- was also called "Cathedral B" and was supposed to be a hippy
- anarchist sex house. Boys and girls of all ages and preferences
- lived there and supposedly strangers were welcome. Of course I
- headed right over. I went with Tom, Bruce, Dave MDC, Tad and a
- couple of other folks. As I walked in I could smell the stewing
- Brussels Sprouts. I had hoped for something more fishy. The
- first floor was packed with pretty girls. They looked at my
- leather jacket, my leather army boots, and my face and sneered
- once for each. The reflection in their eyes said, "Cow
- Murderer!" when they looked at my jacket. It said "Man!" when
- they looked at my face.
- "I'm not a man!" I wanted to say, "I'm a myn! Do you think men
- are just incomplete women? Hah! We're independent beings with
- thoughts and feelings of our own!"
- I didn't say any of that, though. After all, I wanted to get
- laid. I went to the downstairs room where all the girls were.
- They didn't seem to be DOING anything yet, but I figured it
- was only a matter of time.
- "Hey, get out of here," said a pretty one with a crewcut, "this
- is the wymyn's rooms!" She gave me a look like I was wearing a
- CRASS shirt to a SKREWDRIVER show. I apologized and went
- upstairs to the boys.
- Tommy J, and Dave D. were already there. Maybe it's something
- about me. Bruce says I radiate a certain "hostile aura." In any
- case, when I walked in the room a cold silence fell like an
- Iranian airliner on the crowd lying on the floor. People
- suddenly grew intensely interested in things like cleaning their
- nails, or puffing up their jackets to make them better pillows.
- Tom & Dave MDC nodded hello, slightly embarrassed to know me. I
- waved back, took the hint and returned to the vegan house to
- drink some beer.
- Later I found out that, after I left, there was indeed an orgy
- at Cathedral B. In fact, Tom himself started the boys' part
- with some "cute guy with braces." Not only was there an orgy,
- but there was nearly a riot.
- The "bad guys" in the Toronto scene are not the baldies, but the
- hair-in-the-air crew. I met some of them at a NO MINDS show,
- and they seemed nice enough. I drank their beer and hung out
- with them. They told me they worshipped me. In any case,
- they're not very popular with the anarcho-homo crew, that's for
- sure. Now, I wasn't at the orgy/riot at Cathedral B, so I can't
- say exactly what happened, but here's what I heard.
- It was late. Tom and his new friend were starting the action
- upstairs. Suddenly the door opens and the hair-in-the-air crew
- stands hostilely on the other side.
- "Look at those guys," says one of them, "that's disgusting!"
- "Yeah, what a bunch of sick fags," said another, "I think we
- should teach them a lesson."
- They went on like this, their statements gradually increasing in
- hostility. Most of the homoboys ignore them. Dave MDC got up
- from whatever he was doing.
- "Hey, these guys aren't kidding!" He said. Suddenly the happy
- homos realize that they might actually be in danger. Dave faced
- the bad guys.
- "You'd better leave," he said. What happened after that isn't
- clear. There was some sort of confrontation, with a group of
- hard line hair people, their softer line supporters, Dave and
- the B-boys. Eventually the hairboys left and the orgy
- continued.
- While those guys were deep in fudge packing, I was deep in
- conversation back at the vegan house. The California veilfaces
- explained their particular brand of anarchism.
- I said I thought it was ironic that all these anti-censorship
- people suddenly spoke out of the other side of their @'s when it
- came to things like SKREWDRIVER concerts. (If you don't know,
- that band has been in the U.S. They had as much trouble getting
- here as MDC had in getting into Canada. They're having an even
- MORE difficult time playing. Most of the A-punks say they'd
- fight to stop any of their shows. Fortunately the NO MORE
- CENSORSHIP DEFENSE FUND is putting up the money to hire a hall
- for them.) [This is NOT true. It's just another example
- of Mykel's "humor." --TY]
- Anyway, I told those vegans that I couldn't understand that kind
- of pro/anti-censorship hypocrisy.
- "We've made sure they can't play in the open in England," said
- one of them with a funny accent. "They have to make special
- meeting places. Then someone comes to check 'em out and takes
- them to the concert."
- "That doesn't seem very anarchistic to me." I said.
- "We're anarcho-fascists." came the reply.
- To be fair, I actually liked those guys, despite the horrors they
- later inflicted on me. They were smart and funny and could
- commiserate with me, as they seemed to be the only OTHER folks
- at this @-party not getting laid.
- Anyway we drank ourselves to sleep. The next morning, the
- vegetable people were off to go to an "Anarchy and the Military"
- workshop. I went to one called "Queer Anarchists."
- At that workshop a lot of homo boys wore dresses and didn't
- shave their faces, presumably in solidarity with the homo girls
- who wore dresses and didn't shave their legs. The anarchist
- rules were the same from one workshop to the other. Only this
- one was even more unfair, since we had to give the girls an
- equal chance and there were only about a half dozen of them.
- Most of the girls look like they were the type who stand to
- piss. I could tell the most militant because she didn't sit
- on her chair, but squatted on it, like a panther ready to
- pounce.
- One of the older gentlemen started off saying how these young
- homos now days don't respect their elders. The older folks are
- doing all this AIDS work and the kids don't want to hear from
- it. They just want to disco. They're not responsible enough to
- protest for more money for AIDS testing. They don't listen to
- their elders. A younger guy apologetically said he couldn't
- demonstrate for AIDS funding, because they use the money to test
- drugs and drug testing kills animals. The others nodded in grim
- agreement. It was quite an anarchists dilemma.
- I didn't wait to be called on.
- "Hey," I said, "Maybe the kids are right. Maybe it isn't the
- most thrilling thing in the world to establish your identity
- from a disease you can catch. It's bad enough to label yourself
- based on where you stick your penis.. . . er. . . whatever you
- have to stick, but to base your self-image on a sickness is
- pretty lame."
- That got 'em mad, but they were too polite to yell.
- "Oh, he's just a bi-sexual," said one of the dressboys. "I hate
- bisexuals. They're all liars. They're just queers who don't have
- the balls to admit it."
- "I'm afraid that's not right" said another, "They're just
- straights who think it's fashionable and politically correct to
- say they're bi."
- Being neither Canadian nor an anarchist, I didn't wait to be
- called on to defend myself. "Why bother with labels at all?" I
- asked. "Why not just say that you like whoever you like, you
- want to do it with whoever you want to do it with, and that's it?
- Why CALL yourself something?"
- A guy sitting in the corner responded. "Well personally," he
- said, "I like the label ANDROGYNOUS. I feel that way I can
- express both parts of myself. . . "
- A person is androgynous if they could be either gender. Someone
- in the middle; like David Bowie in his prime or the people who
- go to THE CURE concerts. This guy needed a shave and showed
- lots of curly chest hairs. He was as androgynous as Hulk Hogan,
- but that was the label he picked. Jee-sus!
- The squatting girl raised her hand and called on herself to
- answer.
- "I LIKE being a lesbian!" she said, "I'm proud to be a
- lesbian. It gives me an identity, a way of reaching solidarity
- with my sisters. It carves me a place in the struggle."
- She adjusted her sitting position to give herself greater vocal
- effectiveness. She often spoke in italics.
- "MEN," she said, "especially STRAIGHT MEN are the enemy
- when I make myself a lesbian. They just don't understand.
- There was a womyn's workshop and some MAN wrote something
- obscene on the poster because it was WYMYN ONLY. Then I
- heard about this OTHER ASSHOLE who tried to bed down with
- the lesbians at Cathedral B. THEY just don't understand.
- We're LESBIANS and we need our space."
- Applause.
- I left.
- I did get to see a couple of good bands when I was there. I
- didn't get to the MDC, MR. T EXPERIENCE show. I saw NO MINDS,
- the fun all-girl FIFTH COLUMN, THE LAYABOUTS and FAIL SAFE. All
- these are really good Canuk bands, who might get to play in the
- U.S. if the Canadian parliament passes "The Free Trade Bill".
- FAIL SAFE, by the way, is the only punk band I've ever seen with
- a blind guitar player. He goes a long way toward proving my
- theory that cripples are generally better than "normal people."
- Oh yeah, this Free Trade Bill is a law introduced into the
- Canadian parliament that repeals the duty on goods crossing the
- U.S.-Canadian border. It would make U.S. records, books and
- other goods cheaper in Canada. It would also make Canadian
- goods more available in the U.S. (I could finally get that
- VILETONES single, for example.) What's really odd about this
- thing is that the lefties are against it. D.O.A. played a
- benefit to help defeat it. The pink-tinged labor party sang the
- Canadian national anthem in parliament as a protest against it's
- introduction. They said (with straight faces, presumably) that
- Canada would loose "it's national identity" if it were passed.
- Can you imagine all these lefty nationalists? These guys saying
- "my country first, and fuck freedom of access?" Can you imagine
- DOA wanting to make it hard for MDC to play in Canada? I wonder
- how many other Canadian anarchists are against free trade.
- Politics does make funny bedmates-- no?
- On the next to last day of festivities, there was the giant party
- in the park. If you weren't around in 1966, you didn't have to
- be. The Toronto @-people brought their own time machine. When
- I got there, a bunch of them beat on drums, oil kegs and who
- knows what else. Another barefoot crew was wildly dancing to the
- drumbeat, carried off to mental Grateful Dead land. There were
- boxes of green things and pita bread for those who wanted to eat.
- Off to one side, another bunch of folks discussed the next
- convention. It'll be in San Francisco. They also discussed the
- demonstration scheduled for the next day. The U.S. had shot
- down that plane, so they had a good excuse to riot. I didn't
- hang around for the discussion. I'd rather go shopping than
- rioting.
- Overhead, two blimps circled. One was from Goodyear, the other
- from a Canuk company called OV. These companies paid the bail
- bill for the anarchists in exchange for being allowed to
- advertise at the gathering.
- A stage was set up. An all girl band played and they invited
- lot's of people on stage to beat on things. The hot weather let
- people pull off their shirts. Couples were making out on the
- grass. Under a tree, Tom prepared his latest find for future
- drilling. Alex, the girl that Tad had introduced me to, came
- running up to me through the crowd.
- "Hey," she said, "when Tad introduced us, I didn't realize you
- were MYKEL BOARD."
- I smiled an "aw shucks" smile and kicked the dirt with the toe of
- my boot.
- Alex called to another girl.
- "Hey Collette," she said, "this is Mykel Board. LET'S GET HIM!"
- Before I knew what hit me, they tackled me. Alex pulled at my
- shirt. As I reached up to keep it on, Collette went for my belt.
- It was the second time in a year that I was to become an
- attempted rape survivor.
- When I let got of the T-shirt, Alex pulled it up over my head.
- Trying to keep my pants closed with one hand, I reached up to
- save my shirt with the other. It was too late. Alex took my
- arms and pulled them up over my head. She managed to pull the
- shirt completely off me while Collette fumbled at my waist.
- Then she sat on me. Collette grabbed my legs. By this time
- another girl, Becky, had joined the gang bang. I managed to roll
- over onto my stomach. While still fighting for my pants, I
- realized that Alex had gotten a marking pen from somewhere. The
- girls held me down. Alex used my back as a public billboard.
- "I support the struggle of oppressed wymyn everywhere," she wrote
- indelibly. Then they turned me over. Collette sat on my pelvis
- and Becky held my hands. Nearby, Bruce took movies and Mike G.
- smiled. So much for male solidarity.
- Alex drew two arrows on my chest, one pointing to each of my
- nipples. The base of the arrows came down to my stomach where
- she printed, "These are tits too!"
- "OK," I shouted, "you've had your fun. Now give me back my
- shirt."
- "Nope," said Alex, "you've got to walk around the whole city like
- that. It'll help you pay back some of the shit you've been doing
- for these past years." She stuffed the shirt in her pants'
- pocket and ran.
- Later at the festival, Tad managed to corner her and grab the
- shirt from her pocket. "I always wondered what it would be like
- to get into a girl's pants." he said.
- The victory was short lived, though. Alex soon stole it back
- and-- to my knowledge-- still has it. Was that it? Was that
- the end of my torture at the hands of sadistic anarchists? You
- bet it wasn't.
- I want back to the veggie house to get something to cover my
- upper body. The vegans were waiting for me.
- "Hey Mykel," they said, "come on out to the car. We want to show
- you something."
- I should've smelled a rotten turnip right then, but I was still
- stunned from my attack in the park. I walked out to the car.
- They took out the box of "instant Tofu-loaf mix."
- "Uh oh," I thought. I was right.
- Again I was tackled. Right there on some stranger's front yard.
- One of the veggies must've eaten a lot of spinach, because he weighed
- almost 200 pounds. It only took one of him to hold me down,
- while the Brit opened the box of Tofu mix. Sean squeezed my
- cheeks to force my mouth open. The stuff tasted like salted
- sand. I choked on it as it filled my mouth and spilled over
- into my hair, over my chest, in my ears. Meanwhile, the regular
- residents of the house were happily snapping away with their
- instamatics.
- Anything else? Oh yeah, there was a riot. They burned flags.
- The papers said, "We told you so." A bunch of people got
- arrested. Lot's of money was used for bail. I went to a Blue
- Jays game with Steve B & Al. The Blue Jays lost.
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