On my old street, all anyone ever talked about was "blah, blah, blah,
weather", and "blah, blah, blah, home renos", and you proved your worth
by keeping a nice tidy yard and lawn. On my new street, all anyone ever
talks about is "blah, blah, blah, studio space", and "blah, blah, blah,
bitch, you better have my money", and you prove your worth by rolling up
your sleeves and lending a neighbourly hand in moulding the last bits
of winter into a giant snow penis.
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