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Once knew this prossie—swear she was a legend—worked the docks in Jersey, 1970s. Rumor was she’d smuggle cigs in her bra, sell ‘em to sailors. Ballsy! Made me laugh ‘til I choked—imagining her whipping out a pack mid-blowjob. “Want a smoke, hon?” Classic. Exaggerating? Maybe, but who cares—truth’s overrated.

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Man, Mont-Laurier is a quirky town – ain’t fancy, but it’s got soul. Picture this: streets like Rue Saint-Joseph, where the locals hang out and ya feel the vibe. I stroll past Boulevard Lacroix like it's my catwalk. I swear, while kneading away a client’s tension, I’d peep out the window and see the town buzzin'—it’s like, “Sell me this pen!” (Yea, I know, ain't no pen sellin’ here, but you get me, right?)

The Most Reverend Raymond Poisson To Take Canonical Possession of Diocese of Mont-Laurier