Blossing Scum Bags Exposed

 South East corner of Blossington (ATTN: blue kiosk)

 
The Scum Bags of Blossington, you know, those abrasive dudes who basically live in front of the Bloor Cafe and are constantly intoxicated, are actually quite clever. Well, ‘clever’ is relative. But, if you take into an account that they are barely functional, then ‘clever’ is actually an accurate word to describe what Blossington reporter, DmD, has discovered about their secret ops.

It’s amazing what internal persuasion can provoke. We’re all very well aware of the innate mechanism of species on Earth called ‘survival.’ When people are poor, they find creative ways of sustaining themselves. In this way, even really dumb people can appear ‘clever’ when they impress you with their ‘survival’ tactics.

For the Blossington Scum Bags, their survival methodology is simple: prioritize for addictions, leaving necessities of life at a close second. Everything else is way too civilized and, as a Scum Bag once said in response to a cop, “fuck civility.” Certainly, their actions suggest they want nothing to do with conforming to Canadian principles of civilization. 

The cat calling is one thing: “Ola Lola.” They sneer every time I walk by, piss on residential doors, howl about crack before dawn breaks, and brawl over lost bets at all hours of the day. (The list goes on. So, if you’d like to challenge the perspective here, feel free to ream me out in the comment section.)

Blossington reporter, DmD, has been watching them (from above) for months, finally discovering their secret ops, which facilitate their drinking way past a Smart Serve Certifiable allowance. The Government of Ontario should thank DmD, since her discovery obliterates common rumours that the LCBO continues to serve these guys beyond their belligerency on a daily basis.

 Couple Scum Bags lined up before doors open

The Blossington Scum Bags line up outside the LCBO at minutes to 10am. They buy loads of alcohol as soon as the doors open for business. They stash their booze in black cloth bags, then leave those bags in the only establishment they still have a decent rapport with – The Bloor Cafe. That way, if stopped by the police for [insert any valid reason here] the cops will have nothing concrete to book them with. Most of the time, the Blossington Scum Bags pretend they don't understand English when the police question them. And, they obviously never have identification. Their strategy is so flawless that only trial and error could have tweaked it to such perfection.

Now, here’s the kicker. There’s an emergency stash.

 Emergency stash...can you guess what happens next?

Why is there an emergency stash?

When they are rejected by the LCBO for being too wasted, they start to drink at Stan’s Bar and Grill, a dirty dive next door to the LCBO. Stan’s staff knows these guys well, so trial and error once again prevails. Their bags get checked now. Stan’s is, after all, trying to run a business. No buy, no stay. So now they go to Stan’s and buy a single pint. Stan is happy; it is probably his only legal sale for the day.

So here’s what DmD saw the Blossington Scum Bags doing: exploiting the system, and expanding on their already powerful strategy.  They stash their remaining cans (not with each other, they can’t trust each other) but in the Job Employment kiosk on the South East corner of Blossington. It is FREE to open limitlessly, and really, who on Blossington - who isn’t already employed - actually wants a job (*ahem*). They’re far too happy living off of social assistance and drinking their days away. Essentially, nobody opens those kiosk doors unless they know what they are looking for, which is Not-A-Job.

 Door number one, opened early morning before stashing happens

Door number 2....this is premium locker space!

D

Door number three...as you can see, Homes and Land does not match our demographic

Still, the Blossington Post warns all readers, not to open the kiosk doors with hopes of snatching up a free tall can. The Scum Bags have eyes all over this block, and you’ll get beat the fuck down. If you happen to get away with beer thieving one day, be assured revenge is served best on a cold platter. And seriously, it’s not worth carrying around the weight of that paranoia. You could easily go two steps east and get the same bloody can for $2. Why stoop?

That’s the scoop.

(Photos by DmD)