Arts &
  Arts Culture Analysis  
Vol. 19, No. 6, 2020
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Robert J. Lewis
  Senior Editor
Bernard Dubé
  Contributing Editors
David Solway
Louis René Beres
Nick Catalano
Don Dewey
Chris Barry
Howard Richler
Gary Olson
Jordan Adler
Andrew Hlavacek
Daniel Charchuk
  Music Editor
Serge Gamache
  Arts Editor
Lydia Schrufer
Mady Bourdage
Chantal Levesque Denis Beaumont
Emanuel Pordes
  Past Contributors
  Noam Chomsky
Mark Kingwell
Naomi Klein
Arundhati Roy
Evelyn Lau
Stephen Lewis
Robert Fisk
Margaret Somerville
Mona Eltahawy
Michael Moore
Julius Grey
Irshad Manji
Richard Rodriguez
Navi Pillay
Ernesto Zedillo
Pico Iyer
Edward Said
Jean Baudrillard
Bill Moyers
Barbara Ehrenreich
Leon Wieseltier
Nayan Chanda
Charles Lewis
John Lavery
Tariq Ali
Michael Albert
Rochelle Gurstein
Alex Waterhouse-Hayward

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Former lead singer of the legendary 222s, arguably Montreal's first punk rock band, Chris is now a freelance writer based in Montreal. You can check out his writing at where he combines the sardonic humour of David Foster Wallace and the deliciously contrived irreverence of Anthony Bourdain.


It just irks you. You've been out on the town, got a decent buzz going and the gods are telling you that it's time to donate a heaping helping of spunk to some lucky barfly. But you're not on your game, your jokes are landing flat and the broads recognize you for the big loser that, deep inside your heart, you already know you are. But it doesn't matter. You're sporting wood that won't quit and going home to pull your pud or slip it to your wife just ain't going to do it. What you need is a whore and you and everybody else knows it.

So if you’re in Montreal you walk to Ste-Catherine and St-Laurent -- an obvious location -- to see who's out working. There are the usual assortment of fat chicks and beastly transvestites. You consider what it would be like to put ol' Roger into the mouth of a shemale. Drunk as you are, you nevertheless decide to save that experience for another day.

You cruise on over to Ontario E., feeling dirty and digging it. After a couple of trips around the block, you spot a streetwalker who looks kind of clean and maybe even pretty. You know she's got class 'cause she still has some of her teeth. You work up the nerve to approach her and let her know you're looking for a date. "Fine," she says, "it's $60 for a blowjob and $120 if you want full service -- oh, and an extra $20 for the room." You're floored! That's a lot of money for a 20-minute roll in the hay, teeth or no teeth.

"One hundred and forty dollars" you shout. "Who do you think you are, the Queen Mother?" Predictably, she gets all self-righteous, tells you it's the going price and that you would be smart to just keep on moving unless you're in the mood to get killed by her boyfriend. So you approach a couple of other girls and the process repeats itself. You give up and go home discouraged. Your boner still rages, life is unfair. What can you do?


Sound familiar? Of course it does. But listen fellas, you don't have to go through this humiliating ordeal. Go to your nearest search engine that’s devoted to the culture of streetwalkers and the fine citizens out there who engage their services. Functioning as a sort of Consumer Report on sex workers, there are open digital forums where Johns can exchange tips and advice on the local streetwalking scene. It's a helpful resource if you're just starting to learn the marketplace. They've even got a glossary of streetwalker lingo so you can decipher all the latest whore code and impress friends and relatives. Did you know that BLS stands for Ballsucking? I'll bet you didn't. Or that YMMV stands for Your Mileage May Vary?

But the big question that's never far from anyone's lips is also probably the most pertinent: just where does one go in Montreal for that ever-elusive $30 blowjob? Well kids, all you've got to do is log on, become a member (it's free) and you'll learn from other interested parties that the area around Hochelaga and Ontario currently offers a virtual smorgasbord of bargain prostitutes eager to chow down for a bit of pocket change.

Now maybe it's just my impression, but the digital pimping websites seem to radiate a lot of love. The contributors really appear to care for one another and are determined to make sure that the John community is well-treated by our city's harlots. You know, if a few of these posts are to be believed, some of these sex workers can be pretty nasty sometimes and not all of them are always 100 per cent honest with their customers

For example, if you're concerned that you're paying for a girl but really just getting blown by a guy with a wig on, then keep your eyes open for Nathalie, a convincing transvestite who works the Ontario Street circuit. Or even more diabolical, beware the Japanese chick who works the peep shows downtown. Even though she offers the best and most reasonably priced BBBJ's (Bare-Back Blowjobs) this side of Papineau, she'll try to steal your wallet with one hand while she warms your balls with the other. And, by the way, that foxy blonde BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) down over on Huron who looks like she's HM (High Mileage) is actually anything but! In fact, she's LE (Law Enforcement) so don't go anywhere near her unless you're feeling self-destructive and hot to get busted.


Contributors also tend to wax philosophical about their hedonistic pursuits. For example, Woodchuck -- a frequent contributor -- recently shared a love experience he just had with a girl named Lynn. On the advice of a taxi driver named Marcil (a great guy) he went down to the Winston Churchill Pub to hunt for something he could blow his wad into. Within a few minutes he met Lynn (a real average-looking girl) hanging out at the bar and, after consuming about $100 worth of drinks, they went back to his hotel room and got off together. She performed the whole works for him and Woodchuck reported back that it was like a GFE (Girlfriend Experience), except that the whole package only cost him the $100 bar tab--about one-third of what a professional would have charged. He urged other contributors to consider going this route some time as well.

Woodchuck also said that Lynn was every bit as good as a hooker because in the morning she got out of bed and left without even saying a word to him. All for only $100! Apparently, she didn't want Woodchuck to know her last name or where she worked or anything at all that may lead him to find her again.

Gee, it's hard to imagine why.

Also by Chris Barry:
Remembering Alex Soria
Cultivating Cannabis: The Way It Was
To Boots with Love
From Spring Fatness to Fitness
Coming Out: Is It Any Easier?
Head Trip Story: My Inner Idiot
Ballet Boxer: Milford Kemp
Like Young
Loving Hard Times
Feed Your Head
Talking 12-Tone with Patti Smith
Beauty Pageants: The Golden Years
Swingers' Clubs as Safe Zones
Bust a Move
Trapeze - Swinging Ad Extremis
Hells in Paradise
The Cannabis Cup
Colonic Hydrotheraphy


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Arts & Opinion, a bi-monthly, is archived in the Library and Archives Canada.
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