An Accurate First-Hand Account of the G20 Riots

I was wandering around downtown Toronto on Friday morning (5 am) and it was hilarious. [I am presently thinking of how shitty an introduction that is to a post but my brain isn't all there right now]. Yonge street was completely abandoned and there were cops everywhere. Like, I've never seen so many in my life. Every fucking street corner had a group of about ten cops just chillin' and conversing, drinking coffee and whatnot. I was waiting for Union Station to open (at 5:30) so I ventured around Front street and in that area. I hadn't slept in 25 hours, and prior to that, it was only 3 hours sleep. So sleep deprived, drunk, stoned little me turned the corner of Yonge and Front and saw this:

Well, I got that picture off Google, but it looked exactly the same. And it scared the shit out of me. I literally started thinking Omg I bet they can read my mind with that satellite. I better think cool thoughts or they'll think I'm weird. Can they hear my music too? Better change the song, they probably don't want to hear Flight of the Conchords. Can they read my texts? See through my clothes? MY SKIN? Do they know how much weed I have on me right now?! AAAAH! Like, I wandered around that area for half an hour, and I was the only person who wasn't a cop... and I looked super haggard and suspicious. Like I bet they thought I was trying to blow up Union or something but when they used their satellite x-ray powers to listen to my iPod, and they heard Justin Bieber (or is it Beiber... whatever) singing his wee little heart out, they were like, "Boys, it's okay. Put the tear gas away. She's harmless."

Little do they know...
So Sean and I got involved with the Black Bloc anarchists (our pictures are on Google, but you can't tell because we're in disguise). Basically we went to riot, as all good people with a moral standpoint in life do, and this very attractive punk dude wearing all black came up to us and was all like, "follow me." And ya just don't say no to a very attractive punk dude...
who is holding a crowbar. So he led us through a relatively small (but pushy as fuck) group of protesters (thank goodness he led the way and pushed everyone because I could've easily got trampled). We wound up in some ally on Queen street near the Old City Hall. There was a rapist van parked a way down the ally around this little corner thing, and sir sexalot opened the door and said "get in." Without hesitation Sean fuckin' leaped in there. Like he was all too thrilled I tell ya. I was hesitant because I've watched enough movies in my lifetime to know that rapist vans usually entail rape. But then Black Bloc McGreeneyes was like, "it's okay," and
somehow I trusted him. So we got into the van and there were like 5 other people in there. It was quite squishy. Mr. Violent Protester handed us some scarves and black t-shirts (which I still have and should wear as a groovy memento sometime this week) and urged us to put them on. He then gave us each a fanny pack and all I could think was this fuckin' cramps my style... We opened 'em up and there was an abundance of golf balls inside. GOLF BALLS. Before I could say, "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU GUYS GET CROWBARS AND MOLOTOVS AND WE'RE STUCK WITH GOLF BALLS?!" Sean said, "Yes! I love golfing!" and started inquiring about where we'd be playing in all of the commotion. There was an excruciatingly awkward silence and then I think Sean got the hint that our fanny packs full of golf balls were going to be our badass weapons. We discussed our top secret plan to blow up a couple police cars (and aimlessly whack people with golf balls) and then headed towards Bay. This is us:
Well, actually we were right behind that white sign. Like RIGHT there. Shitty. The dude in the white hoodie kept saying, "They locked the Eaton Centre down!? What the fuck? How am I supposed to go to Hollister?!" He was kind of out of place...

This is the part in the story where things get interesting: So we're bustling along Bay in a band of badassness (alliteration WIN) when suddenly this spaceship comes out of fucking nowhere. Hotty McSexpants let out the most unattractive feminine squeal and pummelled through the crowd. Didn't even get his number. Whatever. So Mr. Second-in-command (his name was Zack or Emilio or something) announced "BALLS RRRREADY!" and all the Black Bloc people opened their fanny packs and started chucking balls at the ship. Sean pulled his pants down revealing his balls, and quickly pulled them back on when he realized how much of a tool he was. While the golf balls, torches and pitchforks were flying through the air, this crazy light beam (yes, just like the movies) comes out of the ass of the spaceship and through some sort of anti-gravity magic sucks Sean and I into the ship (oh, and on the way up I got hit in the leg with a fuckin' golf ball and now I have this humorous circular bruise which is slightly less embarrassing than the mushroom shaped one I had a while ago...)

I'm just putting this out there, the aliens on the ship looked like vaginas. Like literally. It was disgusting. I had to stare at my feet the entire fucking time. Now, Sean's just staring at them in awe because he loves being surrounded by plenty of vaginas (first time for everything I s'pose) and I'm staring at my feet thinking OMG I'M GONNA GET RAPED! This scenario should have happened hours ago in the ally but NO I'm going to get raped by a pack of vaginaliens. Then, the big one opened its lips to speak (omg I just gagged typing that)... this was our conversation:

Vaginalien- "Are you the infamous Alien Super Duo we've heard so much about?"
Me- "Infamous? Pretty sure we only have 28 fans on Facebook..."
Vaginalien- "Yea, we'd rather lurk you than actually boost your ego by 'liking' you."
Sean- "I'm responsible for all of our fans!"
Me- "I do all the writing asshole"
Me- "Fuck being on hiatus."
Vaginalien- "Fuck Scorpion from Mortal Kombat?"
Me and Sean- "Da fuck!?"
Vaginalien- "We have a proposition for you! We have this very important ritual that can only be performed by half-human-half-alien-identical-yet-opposite-sex-twins"
Sean- "Well, Camille and I are the only half-human-half-alien-identical-yet-opposite-sex-twins in the entire world!"
Vaginalien- "Exactly. Now what I need you to do, is have sex with Scorpion from Mortal Kombat and then consume him. We are virgin vegans so, it's impossible for us."
Me- :|
Sean- "Siiiiick"
Me- "What will this accomplish?"
Sean- "Who gives a fuck!"

So Sean proceeded to do his business with Scorpion from Mortal Kombat while the troupe of oversized, alien, talking vaginas watched. In the meantime, I found a window in the spaceship with a perfect view of a police car. So I threw golf balls at it until it exploded. Yes folks. That was me.

So that is the TRUE story of my G20 riot experience. And if you're wondering what happened after the whole Sean-having-sex-with-and-then-consuming-Scorpion-from-Mortal-Kombat... Nothing unfortunately. Well, they gave us a free time machine, which will save Sean a lot of work because he's been developing one for waaaay too long. We're still tweaking how to use it, since I didn't want to sit there and watch them explain it to me *gag*. But the first stop, I assure, will be to Hitler's house, to get him to paint us a family portrait.

Peace, love, and fucking riots

Ps. Okay, initially the riots were kind of amusing, but presently I'm mortified at how unnecessarily out of hand things have become. Kinda glad I'm not living there right now


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