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3699 St-Laurent, Montréal, Qué, Canada
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THE MAUSOLEUM

Saphir 2001
All photos by Sandra Chirico

You have once again stepped into...the world of survival horror...

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There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim...  and we sat in the Korova milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. 
The Korova Milk Bar sold milkplus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom... which is what we were drinking. 
This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.  Our pockets were full of money, so there was no need on that score, but, as they say, money isn't everything. 
One thing I could never stand is to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers... and going blerp, blerp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts. 
I could never stand to see anyone like that, whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was. The sounds were real horroshow. You could slooshy the screams and moans very realistic and you could even get the heavy breathing and panting of the tolchocking malchicks at the same time. 
And then, what do you know, soon our dear old friend, the red, red vino on tap. The same in all places like it's put out by the same big firm, began to flow. 

It was beautiful. It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on a screen.

* Quoted from 'A Clockwork Orange'