Drinking like it’s my job. It’s been really real Sherbrooke, thanks for all your crappy coffee.
Restaurant Petit Paris, Chez Joe Casse-Crôute and Chez Charlie’s have been the settings for some seriously surreal scenes. It’s all digesting now with the watery coffee: saccharine maple pies with creamy edges, saccharine waitresses with rough edges and trash talking teenagers unknowingly saving the soul of the person sitting next to them on the chrome stools.
Going to read some of the stories tonight, at our residency party for which I have made a diamond piñata. Yeeeha.
miscresidencies 