And they aren’t even good! I mean, compared to real cheese. My poutine eating mostly seemed to happen in the wee hours, at the aforementioned Club Sandwich, after a night of clubbing.

I was younger and athletic. Somehow the Unibrou beer and the baskets of poutine didn’t seem to go to my waistline in those days.

Ah, youth.

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com