Our Last Gig: Pouzzafest, Montreal


Ah, Poutine!
Sure–you of know it, am I right?

God’s gift to man, a recipe received via shafts of lights and burning shubbery ages ago, a mystical sacrament sent from on high:
Translated as only those nutty Canadiens could do, brother!—this manna consists of glorious frites suffocated under an earthy brown gravy.
And I ask you, do our chilly neighbors up yonder stop there?

Fuck no….hey, I know–let’s cover the whole thing in Cheese Curds now!!!!

And that’s just the base model, friend.
If you know us at all here at the CH3 gourmand field team, you know we’re gonna go for all the swanky options:
‘la saucisse, as shown, but let’s not forget the other toppings, yeh?

Foie Gras? Bacon Bits?
Shaved Copper?

The tears of a heartbroken street clown?
Bring it on!

Oh yes……the tale begins and ends with Poutine, but when invited many months ago, we wondered just as you do now:
What the hell is a Pouzzafest anyways!?

For that matter, just what is Pouzza, and why does it deserve its own fest, hmmm?

Oh, why try to explain when this nifty educational video is available!!

MmmmmmOkay then.

I think you can see why we readily accepted their gracious invitaion and reported for duty!

A leisurely schedule, we report late morning to the Gardener garage & lounge to begin this sordid journey…….

11 o'clock, 4 o'loko

God bless our hosts, they actually send First Class tickets to Montreal!
And while the in-flight chow consists of neither curd nor gravy, it is passable when paired with endless table wines!!

...airborne en-rout to Montreal. After seven double scotch rocks, Ant attempts to read the paper upside down. Onwards

With the time change and a brief, weepy breakdown at the airport when told of Macho Man’s demise, it is well late when we hit the curbside.

...I'm comin' to join you, Elizabeth!

..the limo arrives!

Arriving to the Residences Universitaires UQAM upon our thrones of Pabst, we are giddy as Freshmen arriving for Fall semester!

Everything a dorm room needs except a bong and a Arcade Fire poster.....
That's All Folks!

Onto the town and the usual hilarity ensues.
Last Call at Foufounes Electriques, where we gaze upon their fine collection of Catholic Molestation art!

Altar Boy memories come flooding back. Good Times......

But now it’s finally time to dig into that first Poutine of the trip, where they blanche cut potatoes in shady looking trashcans:

Poutine w/ Smoked Meats...

Back to the dorm rooms and we collapse into schoolboy beds.

Our nocturnal wanderings done, our starch and gravy appetites sated, we fall into deep sleep and dream of Canadian mountians:
Their very Earth’s crust fried to a golden crisp, their dizzying peaks capped with brown, delicious snow!



Up on a glorious Saturday, a brisk walk down St Urbain toward Vieux-Port de Montréal .
A quick, plain snack fends off our hunger of the inevitable meal to come!

...and not a trace of booze on the table, alright already?

While chewing thoughtfully on buttery croissant, I spy the NotreDame Basillica over Ant’s shoulders……shall we?

Unfortunately, they are serving only cheap well whiskies in the Vaulted Cathedral, and we are quickly shown the door…….

Note to Editor: No Caption Necessary

But no time to ponder, it is time for the next Poutine of the trip, this time on the charming patio of wittily named Montreal Poutine!

Poutine heaven, qui?
Poutine #3, but who's counting?!

The day is fine, and we tread the cobblestones lightly, like all the rest of the fat and 6%-beer-buzzed tourists.

...when you could sit there all fuckin day.....

But wait a minnit, don’t we have a job to do?
Oh yeah……we gotta gig goddamnit, and soundcheck in 10!

The Katacombes, our office for the night!
hmph.....evidence of scoliosis even in the mesolithic period? Preposterous!

And while running through a few peppy numbers in the very cool and Skull-a-licious empty club, who should we spy but Carlos Soria of the famed Nils?!

We feel like we’ve known him forever, the nut…and perhaps we have!
We spend the rest of the evening talking of shared friends and memories before returning to the dorms for beauty naps and nips off the Jameson that promoter JP has graciously left at the desk!!

What? Oh, screw you, like your dorm fridge didn't look like this in college!

Freshened by the rest and the incredible 3 hours! since our last potatoe-and-gravy snack, we bounce through the night, the set, and after hour hijinks with aplomb!

Mush! Puttin Soria to work....

JP keeps em coming!

Unruled ruling!

What? Photos of us actually playing?

Well, no.

But we did play, honest!
Wait, hold on…..

There, ya happy?! Thank God somebody actually got a photo!

What? And was there another poutine involved?

Well, hmmm. I guess so?

To tell the truth, at this point, things get vague.
Our time has stretched along with the very curvature of this Northern Hemishphere, and the night is a dizzying mix of fried potatoes, Irish Whiskey, cheese curds and skulls, all topped with a delicious brown ooze.

Am I in heaven?



We sadly pack our meager things into laundry hampers and hug our floor advisors farewell.
We’re gonna miss going to this school, goddamnitl!!

Au Revoir!

Heh….perhaps one last stop at FouFones for the festival sponsored BBQ, yes?

Jolly Grillmasters!

A quick interview in front of dismembered head....what?

...but, those hot dogs. There doesn't seem to be any brown gravy clothing on em!

Sitting there, amongst the floating skulls and sacrilegious artwork, enjoying the sunshine and smoky dogs, we find ourselves grining, to a man.

We’ve been to a few fests, sure.
Maybe we’re more suited to these things, hell, I don’t know.

But this has been a rare blast, maybe because it’s new, maybe because it’s all new to us.
To be here among pals and savor an absolutely gorgeous city on a Spring weekend, it all makes sense.

It’s then that we finally corner Hugo and JP, and they finally tell us what a Pouzza is:

The man who combined two worlds!

Ya take the Poutine gravy.
You pour it on ……


Foreheads are slapped.
Cartoon lightbulbs, they literally flicker on above our spinning heads.

And just like that, they whisk us into airport vans as we clutch onto wrought iron railings, reluctant to leave.

But…but…we never got to try that….
Dear God, why have you waited to tell us!?

Perhaps next time, oui?

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The CH3 Eye on TV: Glee!

Things have been a little slow here at the CH3 Entertainment desk, so we were intrigued when we received advance copies of the season finale of some show —-Glee!

Have you heard of this one?
Don’t feel bad, me either bub!

Apparently, it’s the story of a bunch of high school kids that are part of a Glee Club.
A Glee Club? What the fuck is that you axe?

You know, a choir……chorus—singing, ya got me? A Glee Club!
Hand me my raccoon coat and Yale flag, ol chum, because I have a feeling we’re in for a pip of a time with this one!

So anyway, this sitcom is about some misfit kids that get together and sing pop songs, and they have high school dramas and some people hate them, and then they win at the end.

Excuse me, but I would like to congratulate the fine folks in Development over at Fox, for their courage to apparently green light every piece of shit that comes across their desks these days!

But far be it from me to bad mouth any show that shows popular music on television.
I hate to go back to my familiar, when I was a kid mantra, but…
When I was a kid, we didn’t have all these chances to see the music on TV!
Oh no.

Back in the day, it was a real treat to see rock and roll on the box!!

Which one's the cute moron and which one's the cynical wit? Remind me again!

You see all these interviews about future stars and that life changing moment: The Beatles on Ed Sullivan!

Pretty cool I guess, although I was more impressed by the little homosexual mouse that Ed had a strange pedio/beastial arrangement with!

....I'll be back later to tuck you in, if ya get my drift!

Oh, we had a lil bit of rockin TV on those measly seven channels available:

See kids? Before he was a lovable dope addled TV dad, Ozzy used to be someone!!

Midnight Special was pretty good too, although you had to sit through goddman Maria Muldaur or Captain and Tenille before they got to Alice Cooper lip-synching Cold Ethel!

But then again, you know you loved it—- all alone on a Friday night, watching Tenille and those lips just millimeters from a phallic mic as you dry-humped the couch, didn’t you ya, ya little perv!

mmm..that's it baby, I'm almost there!

Things got a little better, just before MTV came along and forever changed the way we saw music.
Perhaps the culmination was this inevitable meeting of the 2 most influential musical forces to a young and incubating CH3!!!:

It’s all changed now, of course.

We have 24 hour streaming crap fests of rap music videos, live performances of the Moody Blues on You Tube….. Pay per View of the Eagles shilling their dreaded comeback/farewell tour yet again.

And reality television?
Whoo boy, what the fuck did we ever do before this valuable glimpse at what Gene Simmons does with his spare time!

Gee, what about Eddie Money?
Go ahead and give him a show too, goddamnit, what the hell do I care any more?!

Hello. May I introduce you to an hour of your life you will never get back.

Sorry, what the hell were we talking about?


Hey, here’s a good looking bunch, am I right?
……let’s see, we have the gay kid, the Oriental, the fat chick, the sassy sister and the quad.

What, no Down’s kids or crack whores were available at the time of filming?

Alright, we get it! Diversity, united colors, we’re all beautiful….blah blah

I can’t wait til next season, when I hear they will be introducing two new exciting cast members: the spunky kid with leprosy and a young color blind hamas terrorist!

Oh, but wait til you hear this kid sing Billy Joel!

Ah, but clever writers, these lovable losers are more than they appear!

The geeks are the stars, the queers are the studs, Korean kids are bad at math but good at dancing!
And the kid in the wheelchair is….I shit you not…the MC wit the most skill, spittin mad sixteens like we ain’t heard since Bushwick Bill!

Yo....step off ma dick 'fore I cap yo ass!

Black is white, up is down, cats bitch slap dogs and make them co-sign bad loans….hold me, I’m seeing spots again!!

Don’t these people see the goddamn harm they’re doing to the social fabric?
Oh, they call these kids the outcasts, but they’re really the cool kids, don’t ya see?

Is this how you remember High School? Fuck No.

Without the cruel torture of High School, and its true social strata, where is the sweet revenge to be savored decades later?

The gay kid who goes on to own a whole apartment building in Belmont Shores, the Oriental geek from Math Club now owns the Bio Tech firm housed in those sleek black monoliths off the 405 in Irvine?
No More.

Apparently they’re now happy in High School!

...but I am beautiful inside. Agree or i will eat your fingers!

And the Fat Chick?

If she’s getting all this quality self esteem in High School, where will we ever get the next generation of fag hags and enthusiastic phone sex operators, hmmmm?
In a world where everyone is the cool kid, where is the enemy?

Oh, but the music!
Is that what ya said? The music?!

Listen, If I wanted to see some cut rate Babs and Andy Williams butcher Islands in the Stream, I’d go down to my local Tibbies Music Hall.
At least there I could have a drink and get a decent Sirloin out of the ordeal!

Try to act casual and look seventeen...action!

Gee, the singing, the dancing……. hey! Where the hell do these kids get the budget for these production numbers, huh?
Is that where my precious Lottery dollars are going, goddamnit?

...let's see, with the stunt casting and water effects, this little number cost the school district 45 grand. No big, we'll just pink slip a dozen teachers, k?

We had a brief hope that things would spark up when we caught a glimpse of one kid with an actual mohawk!
We were all but certain that the kids would next break into a heart warming rendition of GG Alin’s I Wanna Fuck the Shit Out of You…..!

Hey hey....now we're gettin somewhere!

But no.
Ol’ Mohican just looks mean, and then stares straight into lens and starts singin’ motherfuckin Journey!


Is this what John Lennon came over here, sweating under klieg lights in Cuban heels, and was eventually killed for?
So that a bunch of whiny brats could introduce a new generation to crappy classic rock??

Oh yes.
See, after each episode, the kids flock to Itunes and download these mysterious melodies they’ve just heard.
And then, hey Dad, check out these cool songs I discovered on my program!

Congratulations. You open up the bank statement and discover junior has just purchased the entire Fleetwood Mac back catalogue.

Is this what’s really driving the show, hmmmm?

Why do I get the uneasy feeling this crapfest is really just a thinly disguised version of the ol Columbia House record club scam!

I now own Zep IV and a dozen Toys in the Attics......

Oh, you know–that was where you got to pick out 13 —13!–albums for just a penny each!! whooo !
But then, God help you, if you didn’t keep up with this boiler room operation and decline the next offering, you’d come home to discover Steely Dan’s Aja on your doorstep, and now you’re liable for that piece of shit and shipping—-!

Thank God, we have the always fine Jane Lynch playing Sue Sylvester, the only character we care about—because she’s saying what we’re thinking!!

Now this gentleman we can stand behind!

Yeah, they’re all Losers.
But guess what? We’re the Losers too, people, for watching this load!

Gimmee my dvd of Gummo, will ya, so I can wash the taste out of my mouth!!!

Ya don't sing, do ya kid? Good! Let's keep it that way....

*Watch Glee on Fox TV, Tuesday nights at 10!

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