Sunday, August 01, 2004

For S.
Riding on my way back home, I see a bunch of fire trucks on my street. Shit, the Plateau arsonist has struck again, I think. Getting closer to home, I pass the local ice-cream parlour, and what do I see but about ten firefighters, stripped down to their tight-fitting T-shirts, all lapping away at their cones. Strangely, there was no gaggle of drooling women around, but I think the message hadn't been broadcast.


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