THE FIRST SQUAT AND THE FIRST SHAVED PUSSY

 THE FIRST SQUAT AND THE FIRST SHAVED PUSSY!

  Well, after all those escapades I ended up back in jail and then it was off to more group homes. My parents had moved to Sydney, Nova Scotia and when I was 14 I ran away from my group home and hitch-hiked up there. They took me back, thank fuck. I hated those places.

  Around this time I was being a pretty good boy except for skipping school, fucking girls behind the school, being a dip shit in class and robbing kids for the coontents of their back packs. One day I made off with $70.00 which was awesome since usually I just went for calculators and pens just to piss them off. The halls were so crowded that I’d go in their pack when classes changed.

  I remember the time my parents went to New Brunswick for the weekend to visit my Grandparents and left me home - they should have known better! My mom had this plant that she cherished in the living room. Well, without thinking it just might need water and sunlight, I put it in our shed for three days because I didn’t want it to get destroyed during the two days of chaos that was about to ensue. So come Sunday I go get the fuckin’ thing and it’s fuckin’ dead. I can just imagine what went through their heads when they got back. Seeing mom’s beloved plant all withered up in the corner and beer and liquor bottles everywhere, and hot knives hidden under the cushions, ha! They had no idea what the burned, stained knives were used for and called their friend in the RCMP to ask him what they were. This was also where my buddy Cory got his first blow job.

  Just to give you a little insight into what my parents are like. My Dad is awesome! We’ve always seemed to get along. We would always do shit together when I was young like go to hockey games or he would stay up late to watch hockey games with him if my mom wasn’t around. He coached my baseball team and we would play catch in the backyard and shit like that. We still talk to this day but our lives are so different, but I love him. My mom, well, that’s a different story. She used to make me so mad that a couple of times when I was 7-10 I hauled off and hit her. I’m not proud about this but she made me so fuckin’ mad. All she knows is what she reads in the media and what’s written in the Bible and we have never seen eye to eye. In general she is just a closed minded person and I don’t know if i hate her or just feel sorry for her. I remember later in life, in Quebec City, the cops beat me up and I told mom this and she told me to stop lying that “cops don’t do that.” OK, mom, you’re naive as fuck!

  I met a lifelong friend in Sydney named Garrett. The first time I met him he caught me trying to switch my piece of hash for his bigger piece, it was funny. Garrett tried his best to save me from this life and I love him for it, but this is what I was destined to do. Around this time I was getting into punk rock and I also dabbled in Nazi shit for a minute, but that was just dumb.

  Anyway, I knew this guy from Halifax named Tony, and he had just come back from Toronto and was telling me about all the punx there and what fun it was so you can say this appealed to me.

  It was April 1996 and I was 15 when I stuck out my thumb and hit the road to Toronto. I left with nothing but the clothes on my back and the 20 bucks that my dad left me with on the side of the highway in Moncton, NB. I’d slept on the streets before but always in bank machines and never had any problems, but that was in Halifax, not Toronto. I figured I’d sleep in truck stops on the way there and ATMs when I got to Toronto, fuck it. Well it worked out that I only had to spend one night in a truck stop; I got lucky and had two truckers pick me up starting from Edmundston NB to Montreal and from Montreal to Toronto. It took me a little over a day I think.

  Years later I asked my dad if he thought I was going to puss out and call for a bus ticket to come home. He said yes, but deep down he knew I’d never be back. I hadn’t lived at home really since I was 10 so they were used to me being gone anyway.

  I was stoked when I hit the city limits of Toronto. I was 15 and fuckin’ free to do what I wanted. I went down to Queen St. and met a couple of cook street kids named Fox and Rich, and punk rock and a raver type kid.

  That first night I left to go find somewhere to sleep with Rich. We found some sleeping bags that had been left by someone in a park. I tried to sleep outside but it was too cold so I ditched Rich and went and found a Tim Hortons and crashed on the bathroom floor. To be honest with you after that first night I questioned my motives but then the sun came up and warmed the day.

  I bumped into Rich on Queen St. and he said he was going to go squeegee. I was like “What do you mean, squeegee?” “Oh, wash car windows at red lights for money” “well, ok.” He said the money was really good, so we went down to Lakeshore. I had already panhandled in Halifax when I was in group homes but I hadn't heard of this. I really wanted to try PCP and Toronto was chalk full of it at the time, so Rich and I made some money for it as well as for beer and weed. 

  I remember the first light I did I couldn’t stop laughing, really, am I washing windows at a red light? But the money was fuckin’ good. I make better money than most people doing this so laugh all you want. After making money we went back up to Queen St. and found Fox. They knew a girl named Nicole that sold PCP. Man, I took so much i was fucked up. I didn’t know if I was coming or going! All we did all night was ride the subway till it shut down and almost got in a fight with this really big native dude because me and Fox had mohawks. We ended up in this 24hr donut shop. Man, I’ll never forget the smell in that place. Nothing but cigarette smoke, stinky homeless people, stale coffee and crack which I didn’t know at the time, it ws fuckin’ bad! I think I was high for two days off that shit. I was tripping right out and if I was coming down I’d smoke a joint and I’d be right back up there. I don’t know how to describe the high from PCP except that you’re just fucked. It makes everything look like it’s short. I remember thinking I could touch the top of the CN tower.

  After the first couple of nights I was tempted to go back home but then I thought better of it. Nothing good could come of me going back home. From then on it was nothing but fun!

  I got along with everyone pretty good except this guy Slim and we almost got in a fight a couple times but it never happened. He was giving me a hard time because he thought I was just some stupid runaway that was stealing his money for the summer, and then come winter I’d run home to mommy. We are friends now even though I haven’t seen him in like 10 years and don’t even know if he’s alive. Well we pretty much just got drunk, smoked weed and picked up girls. That is what I was up to in those days and have carried on the legacy as of today.

  Shortly after I got to Toronto I saw someone shoot up for the first time. I don’t even remember how I felt about it. I just remember it was a really big deal for me to see that shit. I definitely wasn’t ready to try it yet.

  Some kid brought me and Rich to a squat on Ossington St. I remember asking what a squat was and learning we had a five-star one on Ossington St. As far as squats go, it had heat, electricity and water. The works! Fuckin’ free rent! Awesome!

  Me and Rich met a couple of girls who just wanted to get high and fuck so one day I brought her back to the squat and i started feeling her up slowly making my way down her pants but what I hit said area I notice something strange to me, so I’m moving my hand around frantically from left to right trying to find the furry patch but I’m wondering why i feel no hair. So with that, up came the hand and off came the pants. I just had to see what the fuck was up. And to my total surprise she was shaved, so I was like yo bitch break out the I.D. now! No, I didn’t say that but I wanted to. I just remember thinking “This better not be a 12 year old girl” because she looked young as well. Keep in mind I was only 15 and had no clue that girls do this kind of shit. I had had quite a bit of pussy before but they all had muff! I must admit from that day I was fuckin’ hooked! What, no pubic hair in my fuckin’ mouth? Cool!

  Well this kid had shown up from Ottawa and we started hanging out getting drunk and shit and going to punk shows. He told me he was going back to Ottawa so I told him I’d tag along. There was this little shuttle that you could take to Ottawa that was way cheaper than a greyhound so we got on one of these things and next thing I know I’m on Rideau st. squeegeeing by the Terry Fox bridge.

  One afternoon I was making money here and a procession of government vehicles stopped at the red light with a couple of them having Japanese flags on their hoods. Don’t forget I’m super drunk and super punk rock at the time. Anyway I’m not sure if I tried to wash one of their windows, but I probably did. But the queen or whoever it was, someone definitely of importance, takes my picture so I fuckin’ spit a huge loogey on her window and start telling her off. To this day I don't like people taking my picture without asking. What makes you so special, cunt!

  Well we obviously left the corner right after that but the next day the RCMP were looking for me with my picture, asking all the squeegee punks if they knew where I was at. Funny shit, man!