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About Ottawa

One time, I’m chattin with this gal, she’s tellin me bout her kid – broke my damn heart, brother! “I’m a hero to him,” she says, echoin that movie vibe – “I’m a star in my own film!” – and I’m like, damn, she’s fightin her own war out here. Makes ya think, ya know? Ain’t judgin, just watchin the show unfold.

So, first off… man, this place is a real mixed bag. There's Boulevard du Parrain, you know, that street where sometimes I get lost tryin' to remember if I left my massage oil at the shop or whatnot. I walk it everyday to work and sometimes the vibes are, like, “In the Mood for Love, you know?”—pretty, pretty good. And then there’s, uh, Rue des Anglettes (I think?) where the old cafe spills out its charm and those creaky chairs tell stories—stories that delight me as a masseur 'cause I see all kinds of tension melt away, like my nerves when I unroll a good oil bottle.

Car/train collision in L'Île-Perrot