Rave News! Canadian Rave Scene Articles! Sticky
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Mon Dec 13, 2010 @ 6:17am |
 Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 12TH
RAVER HAREM A furor has erupted in a Montreal North community after it was revealed that nine teenage girls from a local high school were all impregnated by the same man. The girls in question met this chronic inseminator through the rave scene. This mama-making machine was a fixture at the hardcore parties they attended, and he invested a considerable amount of his time and money in wooing them. He had plenty of both because his parents are stinking filthy rich. He's twenty four years old, and hasn't worked a day in his life. He'll never need to. He's the sole heir to a small textile empire, and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His upbringing has been eccentric, to say the least. He hasn't had a lot of experience with being rejected, scolded, or attacked, and is utterly baffled at all the negative attention that his sperm giving ways has attracted. Our young father of nine spent several years in Japan growing up. During his time in the land of the rising sun, he was introduced to the glory of Japanese girl bands. He was especially fixated on Morning Musume, a massive group that features a rotating cast of talented young women. He started dreaming of having sex with all of them. and as the years went by, his fantasies became more and more extreme. Eventually, he decided he wanted to bring these fantasies into the real world. He knew he was never going to bed an entire Japanese girl band, but that didn't mean he couldn't get the next best thing: a harem of young Canadian beauties. He started scheming and plotting. When he was twenty years old, he decided he wanted to build a polygamous commune in the Eastern Townships. He bought the land where this commune would be built on his twenty first birthday, the day he gained full access to the trust fund his parents had set up for him. He spent the next several years scouting out for the perfect women. Problems kept plaguing him. The women that he seduced never seemed to stick around. They certainly didn't seem like they wanted to be part of a harem. His solution to these difficulties was two fold -- he would start pursuing young teenage girls, since he believed them to be far easier to seduce. He would also impregnate them, which would guarantee that they would form a long lasting bond with him. His plan was a success. He found some young, naive little thing, and won them over with his good looks, charming ways, and exciting lifestyle. He'd have the girls introduce him to their friends, and then convince them over drinks that they should join his harem. Apparently, his sales pitch worked. The girls are adamant about their desire to stay with their raver sex god, though their parents are less than pleased with that idea. Raverboy, meanwhile, has escaped to Vanuatu, where he was originally born. He was raised in Montreal, and considers the city home, but he's willing to make a new life in the bucolic Pacific Island nation. The country has never signed an extradition treaty with Canada, which means if the state decides to charge him with statutory rape, there's not much they'll be able to do. He's safe as long as he stays put. And that's his trump card: once the girls turn 18, he says he'll pay to bring them and their children to Vanuatu. Unless the state clearly states they won't pursue him, all nine families are going to lose contact with their daughters and their grand children. He might have lost his dream of starting a harem in Quebec, but starting one in the Pacific sounds a heck of a lot better. That's probably why he thinks all the rage and legal threats sent his way might have been the best thing that ever happened to him. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Mon Dec 13, 2010 @ 7:27pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 13TH
SPEED FREAK He was speeding down the 401 at a hundred and eighty an hour. There was a joint between his lips and a bag full of MDMA under his seat. His passenger, a Montreal promoter, was sound asleep, and blissfully unaware that the driver was staring death in the face while hurtling down the Trans-Canada. Something had snapped in this speed freak's mind. He had stopped caring about life. He just wanted to go as fast as he could. It didn't take long before the cops were on his tail, sirens blaring. He didn't care. He just kept driving. This didn't go on for very long, but for a brief moment of time, the mad lead the police on a merry little chase. Whatever had gone wrong in his head snapped back into place, and he realized the world of trouble he was now in. He pulled over. The promoter woke up just as the car came to a complete stop. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but he knew that there were a couple of cops walking towards the car. He turned to the speed freak driver and started yelling at him just as the cops knocked on the passenger window. The promoter rolled them down and piles of smoke started to escape from the car. The police officer looked at him, eyes aghast, "it smells like a grow room in here." She them pointed to a sign not too far off from where the car had stopped. "You see that sign over there? At 160 kilometers per you get full demerits and you lose your license. You have any idea how fast you were going?" The driver shook his head and sighed. "A damn good deal more than that. Your lucky you didn't kill anyone" The cops cuffed both ravers and threw them in the back of their cruiser. They sat there for over an hour as the officers waited for the K-9 unit to show up. The dog ripped through the car, and it wasn't long before it found that bag of MDMA under the driver's seat. Both men denied that the drugs were theirs. "We let someone sleep in the car last night. They must have put it there last night and forgot it." The two men were brought to the local jail, where the officers had them take off their pants. "You might try to hang yourselves with it." They spent a cold pantless night in that cell before being released on bail. They had to sign a statement promising that they would no longer hang out with each other but when they asked how they were to get home, the police officers turned a blind eye as the two left the station together. Months later, on the day of their trial, their case was thrown out due to a technicality. The speed freak's car was so dirty that officers wrote in their report that it was a gray vehicle, when in reality, it was yellow. This simple mistake ruined the entire case against the duo. Cleared of the charges, the speed freak went back to terrorizing the highway with his yellow beast. The promoter, though, vowed never to ride with him again. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Kire replied on Tue Dec 14, 2010 @ 6:11pm |
 Coolness: 66635 | Originally Posted By SCREWHEAD
Oh man I remember that pizza place! Holy fucking 1997 flashback! ? |
| I'm feeling has to catch up on sleep right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Olivia replied on Tue Dec 14, 2010 @ 8:52pm |
 Coolness: 66940 | you make up good stories thats for sure |
| I'm feeling the sunshine right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Screwhead replied on Tue Dec 14, 2010 @ 10:34pm |
 Coolness: 685525 | Originally Posted By KIRE
? It's now Maison De Kebab on Atwater, above Lionel Groulx metro/just below St-Antoine. You could order pizza and for extra you could get them to make it with weed in it. They also delivered drugs. The place got busted in a major heroin sting that shut down a lot of the main distributors at the time, and that's how the cops found out about the "special" pizzas. |
| I'm feeling like a drama magnet right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» recoil replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 12:59am |
 Coolness: 86440 | Originally Posted By SCREWHEAD
It's now Maison De Kebab on Atwater, above Lionel Groulx metro/just below St-Antoine. You could order pizza and for extra you could get them to make it with weed in it. They also delivered drugs. The place got busted in a major heroin sting that shut down a lot of the main distributors at the time, and that's how the cops found out about the "special" pizzas. ha! well pizza joints and drug dealing go hand in hand for sure.. the Mafia used a bunch of pizza parlors as fronts for a huge heroin ring between Sicily and New York. it was basically the same network as the French Connection - so when it got massively busted the press called it the Pizza Connection - [ www.nytimes.com ] but what you were saying Screwhead.. I've heard of a pizza place that delivers, but that's the first time I've ever heard of anyone making cash on the side by actually making the pizza with weed in it - lol. I bet that would taste damn good too! |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Kishmay_Pinas replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 11:05am |
 Coolness: 103190 | From what I remember yeah if you ordered a specific type of pizza a bizarre mix of ingredients it meant you wanted a point of h with it. And someone unknowingly ordered the special pizza but wasn't a special client, which led to the demise of the delivery system |
| I'm feeling ez sessions monday wut! right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» AlieN-A replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 12:53pm |
 Coolness: 101300 | Goddd damnnn Speeddd freakzz.. lol them crazy basterdz :P XD |
| I'm feeling kaaa'' klaownnn right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» AYkiN0XiA replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 4:14pm |
 Coolness: 166510 | and no pizza with extra shrooms? |
| I'm feeling inspired right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 8:07pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 14TH
THE IMMORTAL RAVER He's only thirty years old but he acts like he's just two steps away from being sent to a retirement home. Everywhere he looks, he sees the specter of old age stalking him with a wooden cane and a Matlock DVD. When he sees his reflection in a mirror, the first thing he does is check for grey hairs and new wrinkles. His fear of the golden years has turned him into an obsessive health freak. He desperately wants to stay forever young, and for the last nine months, he's invested all his time and money into finding the elixir of youth. His body was the first battleground in his war against aging. He used to be a flabby ass raver who could barely dance for more than a couple of minutes before running out of breath and having to sit back down. That's changed. He took the Body For Life challenge early this spring, and since then he's lost over forty pounds of fat while packing on some serious muscle mass. The Body For Life challenge is a workout and diet regimen that aims to radically alter a person's physique, and it apparently works judging by his personal transformation. He credits his flab to fit metamorphosis to lifting weights three times a week, eating six smaller portioned meals every day instead of he usual three large meals most folks eat, and to supplementing his diet with whey protein, creatine, and a variety of natural herbs and vitamins, all habits he picked up during the challenge. However, getting fit is only one part of his overall war against aging. He started noticing that as he got older, time felt like it was moving faster. This realization prompted him to start studying the psychology of time. His research eventually brought a few studies to his attention that showed that, as people get older, routine begins to dominate their lives. Routine has a way of shutting parts of the brain down and making behavior automatic. The less people have to think about things, the less grounded they are in the present, the easier it is for time to slip past them unnoticed. The studies show that people who live varied lives, lives full of new experiences that force them to adapt, are much less likely to feel as if time is fast. Novelty forces people to focus on the present, while routine draws their attention away from the present. Noticed how slow time seems to move when you're looking at a clock? New experiences are like staring at the most awesome clock ever. Time slows down without it sucking balls. When our pro-youth raver found that out, he immediately started making his life more random. He introduces himself to the unexpected and the exotic on a daily basis. Over the last month, for example, he's helped out at a Unitarian church fundraiser, he crashed a Sikh wedding, he went out drinking with a bunch of homeless people he met in a soup kitchen, he took a free Fox Trot dance class, he attended the Opera, and he saw Rammstein. That's just for starters. Every day, he does something a little bit different or outrageous. He's constantly experimenting with his surroundings, trying new things, asking new questions, and introducing himself to complete strangers. He wants variety. Craves it. Getting fit and living a full and varied life have absolutely transformed him, but this transformation hasn't helped assuage his fears of turning grey. That's why this raver is busy at work trying to start The Montreal Transhumanist League. He's serious about living forever, and he wants to find as many like minded people as he can and help fund the kind of scientific research that might make his dream of immortality a reality. For now, the Montreal Transhumanist League is a small affair, and only has a handful of members, but it's raving founder has big plans for it. He'll be throwing a party fundraiser in the summer, and is already in talks with several life-extension researchers about funding their work. And his ambitions don't stop there. He's got a thousand plans up his sleeves. Who knows? Maybe he'll get his way. Maybe a Montreal raver will prove instrumental to finding a cure for aging. Immortality might be just one party away. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 8:09pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 15TH
SLUDGE BUZZ Are teenage ravers getting high on their own feces? That's what officials at one Montreal school board believes. These paranoid bureaucrats have sent out letters warning parents about the dangers of raving, and tucked beneath the boiler plate fear mongering about date rape and death by dehydration is an unusual warning against the Zambian drug known as jemken. Officials believe that jemken use is endemic in the Montreal rave scene, which should baffle anyone who has ever went to a party in the city. Jemken makes meth look high class. Sniffing glue and huffing exhaust pipes are caviar compared to this toxic drug that was born in the slums of Lukasa, where children trapped in world of poverty spend their free time at the sewage ponds, where they prepare jemken. Jemken is done by filling bottles with human waste, leaving just enough room at the top of the bottle for methane to rise while its putrid innards ferment. It takes about a week before a bottle of jemken is ready to be consumed, and the high lasts around an hour. The drug gained notoriety outside of Lukasa when news outlets like the BBC began covering its existence in the mid nineties. Soon, children all over the world were experimenting with this sludge budge. A series of threads on 4chan show teenagers making it and huffing it, scare stories about its abuse have popped up all over North America, with police departments warning that jemken is a gateway drug that will lead to more serious abuse if it isn't curtailed. Some cities, after learning about jemken's existence, began enacting more stringent controls over sewage facilities to make sure no one is going around stealing crap and turning it into jemken. Bureaucrats and politicians constantly overstate the dangers of drug abuse to the point of absurdity, and drugs like jemken help emphasize this. The youth of North America are not huffing bottles of their own shit, and ravers in Montreal are not taking jemken at parties. In fact, if drug dealers were to start selling jemken at raves, they'd probably start losing business. Who in their right mind wants to buy drugs from someone who carries a bag full of shit with them wherever they go? Jemken does exist, but it's uncommon in North America, and even if it were common, the only real danger it poses is to human dignity. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» AYkiN0XiA replied on Wed Dec 15, 2010 @ 9:38pm |
| Coolness: 166510 | i love the talk about time :) |
| I'm feeling inspired right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Fri Dec 17, 2010 @ 2:01am |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 16TH
FOOT MEETS BALLS A radical feminist has been terrorizing the Montreal rave scene with her feets of rage. She carries a copy of the SCUM Manifesto in her purse, and has loaded her iPhone with videos of angry misandrist ideologues calling for the total destruction of the male gender. She fancies herself to be Dworkin reincarnated, and when she's not busy worshiping at the altar of Valerie Solanas or anticipating the collapse of the patriarchy, she's running around with steel tipped boots looking for male crotches to crush. Reports have been streaming in over the last few months of this anti-heroine's vigilante efforts against predatory male ravers. Whenever she spots a man getting out of hand at a party, she dives in foot first, and lands a good swift kick to her target's balls. She's meted out her brand of street justice to at least five of these hyper aggressive males. Her targets were all well deserving, according to witnesses. They where either gropers, misogynists, jocks, or douchebags with little to no regard for the boundaries or desires of the people in their company. The men who have suffered through her wrath have all been too ashamed to lodge a complaint with the police. Their egos would shatter if they had to publicly acknowledge that a tiny little ball of feminist fire managed to beat them in a fight. She might play dirty and start with a kick to the nads, but she always gives the men a good minute or two to recover before she piles into them some more. From the people who've seen this woman strut her stuff, she could skip the ball kicking and go straight to the fist throwing and still beat her targets to within an inch of their life without breaking a sweat. Some folks have even gone so far as to say that these men are lucky all she's done is kick them in the balls. "That girl is a hero, and more of us need to follow her lead," said one of woman who witnessed the vigilante in action last week. "There are far too many men out there who behave like pigs and are never get called out on it. Maybe if more of us started kicking men in the balls, they'd start treating us with more respect." Would physically attacking men whenever they act inappropriately encourage them to grow up and start treating people with respect? Our lady warrior of the night seems to think so, and she might be right. Men of the rave scene; don't go harassing women at the parties you attend, or you might just get your balls kicked in. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» KORHAL replied on Fri Dec 17, 2010 @ 8:28pm |
 Coolness: 558485 | So... are you going to make her an account with a chart and photos of her victims? |
| I'm feeling snooooow! right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Sun Dec 19, 2010 @ 7:07pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 17TH
WASHROOMS ARE FOR CHUMPS This former rave promoter picked up a disturbing habit while on a cross country road trip last summer. He was driving from Montreal to Thunderbay, and at one point in the trip, right when he was stuck in a desolate part of corn country, his bowels started rumbling. He could have pulled over and relieved himself on the side of the road, but he decided to soldier on. He was going to keep it in until he got to a rest stop. That didn't work out too well for him. He was just a mile away from giving his sphincter a chance to breathe when his innards convulsed and his underwear filled up with a load of the brown stuff. At first, this raver was horrified. He was far too embarrassed to pull in to the rest stop to change clothing. Instead, he just kept driving, His mind was completely baffled at what had just happened to him. He was only 32 years old. He wasn't an old fart. He didn't need a supply of depends. And yet, here he was, 26 years old and sitting in his own filth. He almost started to cry. But he didn't. Instead, he started to laugh. He was an aging candy raver driving to the middle of nowhere in a beat up chevy while sitting in his own shit. He couldn't help it. Mirth overcame him. He popped in an old Anabolic Frolic cd and started to cackle like a lunatic. Eventually, when the laughter died down, he realized he actually liked the feel of feces in his underwear. They were warm and kind of mushy. It felt like sitting in a giant bowl of onion soup full of bread and cheese. He told his friends that's how he decided people were too scared of their own poo. He thought the taboo against feces is a sanctimonious western social construct. There's nothing inherently wrong with poo. It's a wonderful substance, and he was going to have as much fun with it as he could, to hell with what other people think. Ever since this revelation of his, our candy raving promoter has started to wear adult diapers around the house. He's a huge World of Warcraft addict, and now that he's shed his shame of poo, he can stay at the computer and play for over ten hours without ever getting up. He needs to go, he just does it right there, while sitting down in his chair. He has enough common sense not to do this when his friends are around, but he's not ashamed in the least about his habit, and loves to tell people about it. He thinks everyone needs to loosen up. It's only poo, after all. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Sun Dec 19, 2010 @ 7:13pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 18TH
STAR-CROSSED LOVERS One of Montreal's most active raver kids has landed himself a hottie of a girlfriend. This lovely lady isn't some nobody either -- she's an up and coming movie starlet that's been in at least one blockbuster hit. The unlikely pair met during the fall, while the beautiful brunette was filming a period piece in the Old Port. She went partying with her co-stars at a club the raver likes to frequent, the two bumped into each other, sparks flew, and they've been an item ever since. They've kept their relationship on the down low since hooking up, and the woman has spent a considerable amount of time teaching her naive lover how to avoid the prying eyes of the paparazzi. Of course, when you're head over heels in love like this raver boy is, it's hard to keep that a secret. He told a few friends, and they told a few more, so now it's pretty much an open secret in some raving circles. Unfortunately for the pair, the girl is going to have leave Montreal soon. Her movie wrapped up shooting at the end of November. She extended her stay in Montreal a few weeks just to be with her boy toy, but reality beckons, and soon she'll have to head back to Los Angeles. Our raver is crest fallen, and is seriously thinking of moving to California just to be with her. She's not convinced that's a good idea, but she isn't against it either. For now though, they're just living their lives one day at a time, enjoying their moments together while they can. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Mon Dec 20, 2010 @ 11:04am |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 19TH
SPIRIT WALKER These two men had been the best of raver buddies for nearly five years. They went to their first party together, they dropped their first hits of mdma together, they even tag teamed a couple of raver girls together. They were inseparable friends. Practically Siamese twins. When you saw one of these men at a party, you knew the other one couldn't be far behind. That changed eight months ago when the younger of the two men up and disappeared one night. It would be three months before he reappeared, and when he did, he was a changed man. The way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he acted -- they were all completely different. He had gone from being a hardcore party freak to simply being a freak. A year ago, he was a business student studying at Concordia. He had a promising future. He wasn't perfect. He did drugs. He listened to loud music. He had unprotected sex. He got drunk in public. He had his vices, and they were many, but he was still sane. That's no longer the case. Now he speaks to spirits and is convinced that vampires exist, and they want to drink his blood. When folks ask him what happened, he just gives them a blank stare and ignores the question. No one knows where he escaped to for those three mysterious months, and no one knows what he did during that time. Some folks suspect that he dropped DMT and that the experience left him schizophrenic. His old BFF spent several months trying to find out what happened. It was like talking to a brick wall. It got to the point where he couldn't even bring him to parties anymore. The last one they went to together, the now-mad raver spent the night praying on the dance floor, blessing the windows of the party by throwing water on them and then kneeling in front of them, and engaging in lively conversations with what he claimed were the little fae folk that only he could see. He was doing all of this without the help of any psychedelic stimulation. Everyone's concerned about him, but no one knows what to do. Worst of all, the man's gone and vanished all over again. No one knows where he is or what he's up to, but it's probably bad news. For now, they're just wishing and hoping for the best, praying that they won't read about how his body was discovered in some ditch in Chicoutimi. Ravers are prone to breaking. The rave scene is located at the fringes of society. It's a world full of drugs and mental illness. It can be a real riot, but there's a cost that comes with spending time in this social wilderness. Raving is a world of extreme hedonism, and too much of anything, including pleasure, can cause a person to shatter. Ravers are always at risk of falling over the edge and landing face first into a world of misery and madness. That's why their friends need to keep an eye on them. When you see someone going too far, you better pull them back before they get into trouble. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Rakoon replied on Mon Dec 20, 2010 @ 11:24am |
 Coolness: 175375 | Leave Chicoutimi ditches alone! |
| I'm feeling breeeeee right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» KORHAL replied on Mon Dec 20, 2010 @ 4:39pm |
| Coolness: 558485 | Yeah! Could have said a Montreal pothole >_>!
Also, whoever it is, hope he'll be okay D: |
| I'm feeling snooooow! right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» Nuclear replied on Tue Dec 21, 2010 @ 10:58pm |
| Coolness: 2603920 | RAVE NEWS - DECEMBER 20TH
THE BROTHERS IN HAND Montreal's rave community is home to North America's largest and most active circle jerk group. The Brothers in Hand, as the circle is called, was founded fifteen years ago by two rave promoters who were going through a very experimental phase in their sex lives. Legend has it that the two men started the club after a ribald game of Drink or Dare ended with all the players masturbating together in public. While most of the players decided to never speak of the incident again, the two promoters discovered that they were turned on by the experience. They turned to the internet to find like minded men, and started hosting weekly circle jerks at their apartment. The first years were quiet ones -- the diddle fiddling sessions were small, and usually involved only a half dozen or so men. Eventually though, their online cat calls for exhibitionist wankers caught the ears of a powerful and well connected backer, the owner of a Montreal bath house. This man opened up his establishment to The Brothers, and soon membership exploded. The rush of fresh blood inspired the promoters to up the wow factor of their circle jerks. They started decorating the bath house, hiring wank friendly DJs to spin at their beef slapping nights, and supplying their chicken choking members with plenty of brain candy to nibble on. Their efforts were a success, and their circle jerks grew like cancer. Within a few short years of teaming up with their bath house patron, they were at the head of one of the largest group masturbation organizations in the world. Until last Spring. That's when the two promoters had a falling out. No one knows what caused the two men, who've been jerking off together for a damn long time, to zip up their shorts and call it quits. We do know that the bath house owner tried to keep the peace between the old school rave makers, but his attempts at mediation were a stunning failure. The Brothers in Hand still exists, but its numbers are much diminished now that one of the promoters has said goodbye to the bath house. He's set up shop in a cafe that, at night, transforms into a free for all bordello of pleasure. He calls his new group The Stroke Folks, and his aim is to revitalize the Montreal circle jerk scene. He views The Brothers in Hand as being moribund and in a state of decay, and thinks his new project will help inject energy into the circle jerk scene, bringing it back to the heights of glory it experienced in the early naughties. |
| I'm feeling nuclear right now.. | |
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