Thursday, August 21, 2014

MP&I's fave tram pix

No 1 shows a Northbound Blue Bonnets streetcar just past the crossover the Southward Track and the curved spur into Blue Bonnets Raceway to the West/ Right..
Jean Talon/Harold Cummings/Namur is just to the South with a road entrance to B B off West end of street just West of Decarie, the latter out of frame to left. The Tramways Trestle over the CPR to Vezina can be seen in distance.

 No 2 Shows soutbound streetcar having just crossed road at West end of Jean Talon/Namur into Blue Bonnets. Crossover for streetcars into BB can be seen behind, with spur diverging to West/Left in distance.

 No 3  Shows MTC PCC cars piled up for scrapping at St. Lawrence Iron and Metal South of Dickson in the East End.  There are some autobusses and Work Equipment, also, in 1963.

 No 4 Westbound car on Rte 91 Lachine at St Pierre ( Bascule Bridge )

No 5 Nice View @ Youville Shops near the end.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

NYC abortion tragedy: sawbones flees to cottage near Montreal

  Women who wanted to terminate a pregnancy would likely have had this conversation back in the day. "Doctor what happens if there are complications?" "Well if you die, then I'll chop up your body, attempt to dispose of it and flee town to my cottage north of Montreal."
   That might seem insane but in the days before legal abortion these things really happened.
  We've discussed good old Jack Seligman of the Fairmount Bakery that ended up dumping a woman's body into an alleyway after a botched abortion.
   But in 1962 New York City physician Dr. Harvey Lothringer provided an abortion to Barbara Lofrumento that went wrong and ended in her death.        So he chopped up her body and flushed it down the toilet and fled to his hunting cottage north of Montreal. Meanwhile a plumber was called in to unclog the drain and found the poor victim's body all chopped up down there.
   Lothringer was eventually tracked down in the Caribbean and served four years in prison. He was eventually even reinstated and involved in a controversial prison death, in which a woman committed suicide after he took her off her medication. 

Warehouse shack rivals famous cathedral

Low-rent version of Mary, Queen of the World, which is a low-rent version of St. Peter's. 2695 Hochelaga near Florian, Hochelaga-Maisonneuve, Montreal. Thanks to Jack Ruttan for the photo! 

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Rogue immigration counselor beats the Queen

Goikhberg by DELF BERG
   When you've served your time, you're out, whether authorities like you or not, as Yafin Goikhberg has been set free in spite of vigorous attempts to keep him behind bars.
   Goikhberg, 49, who is a Ukraininain living in LaSalle, was sentenced to five years in September 2011 after being convicted of misdeeds relating to his attempt to help people, mostly from Russia the former Soviet Union and Israel immigrate to Canada.
   He moved to Canada from Kiev in 1992 and worked as a translator for an immigration firm, eventually branching out in his own bizarre direction.
   He would - according to court testimony - invent fake refugee stories and take welfare cheques from some of his clients, forcing some to beg in the subway, and so forth. At one point he was charged with 149 infractions.
   But what irked authorities was that he was totally unrepentant and considered himself the victim of a anti-Semitic setup, once famously denouncing a judge a Hitler's grandson.
  "... he attracted many victims in Canada, charged them for services not rendered, fabricated for them forged documents, identity and history justifying refugee status that he encouraged them to produce to the authorities and pocketed the benefits that they had received from the Ministry of Employment and Social Security. He also charged the victims for services not rendered and threatened two recalcitrant of abuse against their family."
On August 8, Justice Guy Cournoyer ruled that "a court may not judicially create a bail review mechanism that does not exist."  See the link above for more crazy, and much high-technical, details from his case.

Outremont Satanists stymied in attempt to kill two kids

Pretty wild story here - most likely a tall tale - about a trio of people who were supposedly prevented from committing a child sacrifice in Outremont this week. The first 17-or-so minutes of the video above sheds light, not much, but some light on the situation. The guy reporting the event, Kevin Annett, has supposedly come to Montreal to look into it. The allegation is that two top ranking officials in American gas and energy industry were about to kill a pair of children supplied to them by the local mafia. Local police are supposedly working with the agents that made the citizen arrest in this case. The exact location of the Outremont home in question was not released. Anybody with any knowledge of this supposed event is welcome to post their info in the comment section or by emailing me. Misinformation also welcome.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Booze authorities order clothing back on at St. Jerome's only peeler joint

 Montreal was once circled by a suburbs featuring brothels in the form of strip clubs but alas that supply is decreasing fast as booze authorities tear up licenses.
   The most recent to suffer is the Body Shop in St. Jerome, also once known as Bar Studio 378 and Sexy Hollywood.
  The bar lost the right to feature nudity and strippers in a court decision handed down by Jean Lepage and Yolaine Savignac on June 18, following three days of hearings at the start of the year.
   The decision to force everybody back into clothing at St. Jerome's only peeler joint was largely based on nine occasions in which dancers offered sexual services to undercover cops for pricing varying from $100 to $200 depending on the type of activity involved. (Seems expensive, who could afford that? - Chimples)
   Onetime owner Jean-Francois Lauzon (who had cocaine, grow-op and fake credit card-related prios) switched the name to Sexy Hollywood after purchasing it in October 2009.
    Cops found a stripper willing to sell them speed and watched on as a dancer smoked pot with a customer outside. In June the cops caught a dancer giving a hand job to a customer. Cops seized lube and condoms, etc.
   In June 2010 the joint changed its name to the Body Shop and later that fall, the cops returned and noticed that a light system had been put into place to warn dancers of police busts.
   Police noted that the ownership-management also had a hand in a massage parlour called Alexcellence Massage in Laval.  
   But cops found no links between biker gangs or any other such criminal networks and ownership. They also noted that they made many other visits - at least 9 - which revealed no sexual activity.
   Philippe Bollinne, a 43-year-old father of two, purchased the club in 2012 with money he earned from previous jobs as a doorman, security guard, car salesman, and a massage parlour.
  In March cops found a teen runaway with false ID working at the place.  And in late February Heidi Van Horny announced that she would have sex with 23 men in the bar in one day.
   Bollinne said that it wasn't clear whether she'd have sex with 23 men or give dances to 23 men and he dismissed it as a publicity stunt, as it never took place anyway.
   The booze authority didn't take these two events lightly and noted in the decision that they disapprove most of false declarations, sex acts, drug dealing or consumption, not-cooperating with police and presence of minors.
   It was pointed out that the Supreme Court struck down the prostitution prohibition but the judge noted that prostitution constitutes a disruption of peace, a phrase repeated a few times in the decision.
   Back when the club was an unabashed sex rodeo back around 2006, dancers were making up to $8,000 a week, not bad scratch for someone who might not have a lot of other employment possibilities.
   Anybody who reads such reports - and we've published a few spicy ones here on Coolopolis - might consider that the offences committed in the club seem pretty minor. The bar launched an unsuccessful appeal.
   But hey we live in an age when there's a lot of cops and not much crime, police have to do something with their time.
  Other clubs slammed with serious punishment in recent years for sex-related stuff include: Bar Terrasse (June 2012), Miss Hilltop (May 2012) Bar Le Ki Osk (Aug. 2012) Bar St. Thomas (May 2012) Bar Le Coin du Pecheur (Aug 2012) Bar Chez Diane (July 2013).

Snowdon's strangest building

Two Montreal books tell the story of Snowdon in the 50s and they're both the creation of a local guy named Bill Conrod, who recently put out his second tome More Memories of Snowdon in the 50s.
   Of course this is an incredibly small niche market and Conrod hasn't done any social network marketing, so I thought it worth mentioning.
   The book is solid, from what I'm told, although I have never seen either it or its predecessor.
   One Snowdon building I'd be very curious to know more about is the 1929-built, 36-unit Queensway Court building on Snowdon (north side) just east of Decarie.
   The 5257 has a weird little alcove up a flight of stairs with a few tiny stores in them. (Photos borrowed from the excellent Spacing site). According to tax records, the $3 million + building was purchased about five years ago by some local Chinese but it looks the same as ever.
   I visited one evening after the stores were closed with my son and we were sufficiently freaked out to see a small hairdresser and tailor inside the then snowy-icy courtyard which is not visible from the street.
    Apparently I'm not the only one who found the place spooky, judging from this anecdote on that same Spacing post:
  1. Growing up gay in the 50′s and 60′s was pretty tough. But Snowdon wasn’t too bad for me, compared to other places I’ve heard and read about.  The “annex” steps and courtyard in this photo were always interesting to me as a child.  Recently, however, I’ve recovered an upsetting memory about that exact spot.
    One pleasant evening when I was about aged 6 I was with my father on Queen Mary, for some reason.  On our way home we stopped in front of the annex steps and he said, “Stand right here and wait for me; I’ll be back soon.”  I waited and waited — a very long time — but he never returned. I wasn’t sure what to do.  But then I remembered that I’d been to Steinberg’s with my mom, and it was just across the street (where Metro is now).  I told myself, “You know how to walk home from here. It’s not far.”  And I did just that.  When I arrived home, Dad was already there.  “What happened to you?” I yelled.  He just stared back blankly at me.  I told my mom what had happened, and she said, “Oh, he probably just got to talking with someone, you know your dad, and he forgot.”  I accepted her explanation and put the event behind me.  
    Thinking this over as a grey-haired, middle-aged man now, I’d still like to give my dad the benefit of the doubt.  He was a good father.  He was always kind, generous and loving toward me.  But he was a man’s man. He loved hockey — all sports, really — and I guess I was a disappointment to him, since I wasn’t much interested in that.  So, I can’t help but wonder about it all, and I suppose some questions will haunt me for the rest of my life: Who would leave a little kid standing in a doorway on a very public street at night? And, should I change the word “leave” to “abandon?”

Montreal hotel-goer drugged and sent to South Africa

   Quebec City hardware merchant A.D. Fraser came to Montreal in 1876 to stay at the Montreal House on Common street near the customs house, which was where sailors would stay on their brief stays in the city.
   However destiny had other things in store for the Scottish-Canadian.
   Fraser left Quebec City with $800 in cash and a small suitcase.
   Upon arriving in Montreal he split up with the person he was travelling with and passed his luggage to a man who started driving away.
   Fraser followed the man, who went into some other home, which he claimed to be the Montreal House.
   It wasn't and Fraser pointed this out.
   During the course of this discussion the two had a drink but Fraser's drink was poisoned.
   After sucking back the Mickey Finn,Fraser found himself shanghaied all the way to Capetown South Africa.
   Fraser found work as a bookkeeper while in Capetown and earned enough to make his way back to Quebec City in September of 1877 via London.
   His wife and children were delighted by his return, presumably.
   Fraser would have been about 57 when this occurred, assuming that he's the same Donald Fraser born in 1819 and belonging to the well known clan.

Montreal's creepiest convent

According to an article that was widely published across America in 1898, Montreal was home to a convent full of teenage nuns who slept in coffins.
   The article, entitled "Strange Convent in Montreal," reported that the Convent of the Holy Face started with five daughters who played with skulls and were subject to scourges and chains in their cells.
   They had a mother superior but a man - supposedly a doctor - ran the place.
  Hundreds would visit each month to say prayers, according to the report.
   The article stated that 14 nuns inhabited the place, most between 14 and 18 years of age.
   They'd dance around and play like normal girls.
   They would usually sport black but on feast days dress with a crimson front with a saint face painted on the front with a crimson veil and wear it to sleep in their coffins.
  They had a beautiful garden out back but were not permitted to go out there.
   The location of the supposed institution is not listed or described in the article, but as some helpful individual noted in the comments section below, the building was at the corner of Amherst and St. Catherine.
   In a story from two years later, more on the coffin teen convent.

   I thought I had seen everything in Montreal all the conventions and monasteries, almshouses, orphan asylums, churches and cathedrals. I had attended high mass in Notre Dame and visited and been deeply impressed by the exquisite chapel behind its high alter and I had turned away provoked at the good Bishop of Montreal as he held forth to his congregation against admitting Sunday newspapers to their homes, “particularlement celles de New York.” “Is there anything more in this city I have not seen?” I asked a friend. “Well, I think you have seen everything except the Holy Face Convent,” he replied. “What is there interesting about it?” “Only the fact that the mother superioress is only twenty-three and the other nuns little girls not more than fourteen or fifteen.”
   When I reached the Holy Face Convent I found it a small, ordinary three-story Montreal dwelling. The door was opened by a child, dressed in nun’s garb. I asked if this was the “convent of the Holy Face?” “Mais oui, madame;’ entrez,” and the little child stepped aside to allow me to pass into the bare, square hall of the house. She ushered me into a white-washed room, devoid of carpets or furniture other than half a dozen chairs placed primarily against the wall, and an uncovered deal table. In the walls were three or four picture of religious subjects, most prominent among them one of the holy Face,” intended to represent the imprint of the Saviour’s features left on Veronica’s napkin; a huge crucifix and a ghastly skull.
   In a few moment s a quiet, gray robed figure entered the room. In the world she would have been a pleasant faced Canadian maid of twenty-two or twenty-three, but as she stood there with clasped hands she was a religious enthusiast. Everything earthly seemed eliminated from her nature, and I could only compared her to the shell of a woman. I explained that I was a stronger in the city, that I had been told about her convent and was very anxious to see it, if she would kindly show me all she could of it. I added this because I had found from experience that there was always some part of the building held sacred from outsiders’ eyes. She murmured something about seeing the “Bon Pere” and obtaining his permission, and left the room.
   Presently le bon pere entered accompanied by the gray garbed nun. He was a short, thin-set Canadian with heavy features, large black eyes, clean shaven face, with very thick lips and very white teeth. His head was a trifle bald but what hair remained was rather long, thick, black and curly. He wore a long soutagne, with a button off here and there; no collar and cuff bands but no cuffs. I again explained my desire to go over this convent, of which I had been told he was the superior. And finally he agreed to my request. His name was Dr. Lapaix and in broken English he told me the history of the convent. The old French Canadian doctor had founded the convent in his house where at the same time he kept up the practice of medicine.
   The first members of his community were the five daughters of a couple whom he had known for years. The eldest of these girls when the institution was started was not more than eighteen years old. The girls are taught to lead a life of religious rigor, in which scourges, chains, coffins as beds and death head as ornaments of their cells play the most prominent part, while, though they have a mother superior in the eldest sister, the doctor is the final arbiter of all questions that I pertain to the management of the community. Dr. Lapaix gave me in the care of the young nun. I had first seen and who proved to be the mother superioress of this strange community, and granted me the privilege do visiting the whole building.
The community has fourteen members, the oldest of whom is twenty-four, the rest ranging from fourteen to eighteen. They seemed happy enough, if ringing laughter and merry voices bespoke happiness. It really seemed more like an orphan asylum than  convent.
Their ordinary dress was a gray habit, girded around the waist by a rough .. from which depended on one side what was called “the scourge,” but which was in reality an old fashioned cat-o-nine tails and at the other a large rosary.
   At then.. was a narrow white collar which ended in front of two square tabs. Each nun wore a hood of gray, coming down to the shoulders and turned back off the face. Under this was a tight fitting skull .. of white linen. On feast days and holy days the nuns don long crimson scapulas, which hand to the bottom of the skirt in front and upon which is painted the “holy face,” and over their hoods are thrown crimson veils. I was shown the chapel, which has been fashioned out of a fairly large sized room, with benches around the sides. A little altar has been erected at one en of the room, which was dressed in true Canadian fashion, in crimson and gold, which quantities of candies and a very beautiful life sized statue of the Virgin Mary.
   To the right of the chapel was the Doctor’s cell, the principal article of furniture in which was a large coffin. This, I learned, was the Doctor’s bed. Similar coffins according to the size of the different occupants, being the only beds provided for the inmates and the principal pieces of furniture in the fourteen narrow cells in which the third floor was divided. The doctor’s coffin had a small cushion at the top and a blanket, and the whole was covered with a black pall, ornamented with a large silver cross. I asked my guide if the nuns did not rather dread sleeping in coffins. She replied that at first it was a little gruesome but they soon became accustomed to it and no they minded it so little she questioned whether they could sleep in any other bed.
   Every Friday the nuns are scoured. My guide showed me two… in the wall of what was called “the community room,” into which the hands aer thrust after letting down the upper part of the habit and exposing the neck and shoulder. The nun toe scoured takes her place before the rings, in which her hand are placed, elevating them another head and one of the other nuns gave her a certain number of blows, while the rest of the sisters kneel in the room praying. “But who scourges the Doctor?” I asked. “Mais le Bon pere, non; il n’yen a pas besoin!” exclaimed the sister, in horror at the mere suggestion of that holy man standing in need of any chastisement. A large garden is attached to the house, surrounded by a high way.. This is filled with trees and in summer time with flowers. Benches were scattered around when I saw it, and a very artistic set of stations of the cross were appropriately placed among the trees. I spoke to several of the child nuns. They were very happy to talk and told me how happy they were and how good Le Bon Pere was. To all outward appearances they were perfectly satisfied with their lot.

Who stole the Smith-Scollard fortune?

   Eccentric millionaire Sarah Smith Scollard died in Montreal 82 years ago and that's important because her vast fortune also disappeared with her.
  Smith-Scollard had been staying at the Mount Royal Hotel under the name Sally Stroupe from October 1931 to July 24, 1932 when she died here of pneumonia.
   Scollard was known to steal soap from hotel and wrap it in $1,000 bills for safekeeping. She hid a half million in a clock and wore a 10-carat diamond on a camping trip and would carry a quarter million dollars worth of jewelry in her purse.
   In her will, she cheaped out her sister and her ex-husband, giving them $1 each.
   She was said to be worth $15 million, a sum which she grew from a $400,000 inheritance in Wallace Idaho. She was also known to frequent Virginia, Iowa, Kansas, Oregon and other such places.
   Her funeral was in Montreal on July 28, 1932 and there was some confusion as to what became of her ashes.
   The heirs argued that her financial adviser Reese Brown ripped her off and kept her prisoner in Montreal.      His version was that they fled to Canada to escape an American tax bill.
   He died in a car accident on January 27, 1934 when he drove into the car of an Indian carrying poles, one of which impaled his brain.
   His widow Sally Brown had been suspected of stealing a lot of the cash and fleeing to Vancouver. She was later located and said that she scoured the streets of Montreal for the woman's safety deposit box and eventually found it to be empty except for a couple of magazines

Barracuda still biting - king of 70s Montreal chess boom emerges

   The flannel-man on the right is seen here engaged in an apparent attempt to stare down another chess opponent in front of an invisible chess set.
   Two-time Montreal chess champ Jerry Rubin or (Gerald Rubin, more formally) was once famously nicknamed the Barracuda for his wicked skill set when it comes to the game of chess.
   He earned it during a match held long, long ago when, as a 14-year-old he stared down an opponent who suffered a heart attack midway through their match.
   The opponent recovered but Rubin's legend was created and opponents would  later cut a wide swathe when he'd saunter down the exposed brick hallways of Robert Drouin's En Passant Chess Club on St. Denis street.
   "He has nerves of steel and he's fast, real fast," said one opponent.
   The owner of that club noted that about 20 chess clubs sprouted up in 1972 in Montreal after a famous chess match between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky. About a dozen remained six years later.
   The photo above was shot earlier this week somewhere in lower Westmount but the exact location will remain confidential as the safety of those who cross the Barracuda's gaze cannot be entirely ensured by the staff of Coolopolis nor by its associated companies.
   Lawrence Day wrote this about Montreal as a chess city:
  Montreal is indeed a good chess city, likely the best in Canada. I haven't been there for twenty years but back in the "days" I used to play at the old "Cafe En Passent" and "Alekhine" chess clubs in Montreal in the 70s. Thems were the days, prior to all the anti-smoking bylaws and the Starbucks coffee-house culture. The En Passent cafe was much like one of those old chess cafes in Amsterdam, filled with smoke, darkly furnished with an endless assortment of old squeeky tables with inlaid chessboards, Staunton pieces scattered all over the joint, not very well lit, grungy, run by one chessnut with a voice like a foghorn and his one waitress who didn't have too much to do...all in this place packed with unkempt patzers plodding over their games while one table in particular would be surrounded by kibitzers watching local master/hustler Jerry Rubin giving everyone 5 to 1 time odds (and usually winning). One day there was a big commotion around his table...GM Spraggett (then IM Spraggett) was playing Rubin and giving *him* 5 to 1 odds...and winning (usually). That was quite the display, chess pieces dancing around the board like Mexican jumping beans while the poor old Soviet clocks would get pounded like punching bags...

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Montreal restaurants going broke

   I argued here a while back that Montrealers are crazy for spending so much of their budgets at restaurants when it costs a mere fraction of the price to eat at home.
   Alas, people were listening, as a flood of restaurants, have - sadly - closed since then.
   They include: The Roi de l'Inde on St. Denis, Asean Garden  on Sherbrooke W in NDG, Pacini on St. Denis, Scores on St. Catherine W. (& in Valleyfield I'm told), Arem a middle eastern place on WilliamItacate on the Plateau, Booster Juice on Sherbrooke near McGill College, Racines at 444 McGill. I Sensi on Belanger near the Main,
  I feel bad for these restaurants, as they all have employees who were left out of work and owners who took a hit.
   There's no real way of telling whether there is a significant leap in restaurants closing because not all restaurants declare bankruptcy when they close so the Quebec Restaurant Association isn't sure of the numbers.
  There are surely many others and, of course, other newbs are hitting the market with high hopes.
   It's not unusual for a spate of restaurants to all close at once, so it's likely cyclical but I suspect the loss of about 20,000 jobs in the Montreal area since last year at this time might have something to do with the dip, which has also been reflected in a slight downturn in the real estate market.
   Others point to the supposed ongoing effect of a recent law that makes it impossible not to claim all earnings.
   Montreal joints that closed last year BU, Cafe Melies, Aix Cuisine du terroir Laurier BBQ Le Hangar  Le Murphy Les Cavistes Mas Cuisine Projet 67, Euro Deli, (bars: Time Supper Club, Bains Douche, Radio Lounge)  

Friday, July 25, 2014

Montrealer raises over $1,500 for soft-boiled egg 'secret'

  One local Montreal woman is doing her best to up the ante of stupidness on Kickstarter by promising to reveal her secret to perfect soft boiled eggs for $15.
   Well, you boil some water, walk to the fridge, take out some eggs, put them in the water, wait six minutes, and then you take them out and snap em through with a knife.
   Pay me fifteen bucks!
   But something happened along the rose-lined path to wonderbar Nadin Katzenberg getting her fifteen bucks.
   She was given over 10 times more than she was asking for, indeed she got over 100 times more than she was asking for.
   All of the $1,520 in offerings came from one person though.
   We don't know that person's name but according to the rules of Kickstarter, Katzenberg would have to give about eight percent of that sum to pay the sites fees.
   So Kickstarter will get $122 for the stunt.
   Now, I don't know nobody from nothing ...but is it possible that Kazenberg herself gave the $1,520, knowing that the $122 that the stunt would cost her would well be worth it in terms of the niche of fame and aura of winningness she is creating around herself through free publicity on very badly conceived articles on websites like....err.. scratch that last bit.
   So, clever PR peeps, let it be known that crowdfunding is the new gimmick to promote an aura of winning-o-sity among yours clients! Grab it before it gets cold!
   And Katzenberg, your soft boiled egg secret had better be good! 

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Montreal's phone fraud culture

   I have come across way too many Montrealers involved with phone fraud operations here, which hopefully have all been eliminated by now in a series of high-profile busts and extraditions.
   So I took some time away from staring at the ceiling this afternoon to make a list of some of these shady characters.
-The male stripper from Verdun: A thirty-ish welfare recipient who once told me that he was gainfully employed at Club 281 (I didn't go down to check if this was true, although he didn't seem to be a particularly exceptional specimen from the parts I saw).
   He strode with the demeanour of a street hustler, was constantly behind on his rent (I was his long-suffering landlord) and had an infuriating habit of paying odd sums here while I was in the middle of doing some fix-it task, that made it difficult to keep an accurate tally on how much he owed. Quite a clever trick really.
   One day during a bus strike he asked me to give him a lift to his phone fraud job in Ville St. Laurent. He was quite open about it. I agreed but only if he agreed to help me scrap an old fridge by bringing it downstairs.
   The fridge turned out to be an unwieldy 350 lb bastard and both of us were cursing all the way down the three storeys, especially him.
   On the drive to his work he brazenly boasted about how he was a particularly good phone fraud guy and would sometimes get the credit card numbers he needed simply by yelling at the old folks who had a hard time understanding his nuanced pitch.
   "GET YOUR CREDIT CARD NOW AND READ ME THE NUMBER!" he said was one of his more successful techniques.
   When the ringleader was later cited in a media report as having been heard on a wiretap laughing aloud with one particularly ballsy phone fraud guy's quips, I'm getting the sense that it was this guy.
   (In case you're wondering why I didn't turn him in, it's because at that point had assumed everything he told me was bullshit).

 Swarthy NDG family guy with a sweet local wife and a couple of young kids who I'd see at social gatherings. He'd be there physically at these kiddie events but virtually never stop talking into his bluetooth earpiece phone. So his level of douchiness was pretty much topping out the red arrow on the meter but hell I didn't really care to talk to him anyway.
  Things were looking up for this guy upon the surface, he bought a house in NDG and his wife and kids were real sweet but he was arrested and sentenced and there was some sense of trepidation in explaining to the kids where daddy went.

Trashy son of a prince Ever meet someone so sweet and gentle and then meet their kid who is an absolute lout? Well an elderly Liverpudlian grandpa living in an dodgy highway-side upper duplex fit that bill. He was a super guy, quiet and interesting (Told me that Gerry Matticks had financed his home) but his son who worked in a phone joint was loud and fractious with his separation-new-girlfriend-I've-got-the-kid-this-weekend stuff. I have no proof that the younger guy was into phone fraud but a few conversations I overheard might have hinted at that, although he might also have been entirely legit.

   One friend-of-a-friend (not on this list) explained his motivation to continue in phone fraud to a mutual acquaintance: "There was a ton of money in it, it was too hard to say no."  

Monday, July 21, 2014

Montreal court decides in multi-million dollar porn ruling

   A Montreal courthouse recently spent an impressive seven full in late May listening to testimony about porn DVDs and the story did not have a happy ending for Montreal-based shop magnate Alain Elmaleh who last Tuesday was ordered to pay up $2,555,020 CDN to an American porn company called Jules Jordan Video for pirating DVDs.
   Elmaleh is planning an appeal of the judgment.
   Alain Elmaleh's companies were originally ordered to pay $17 million by a U.S. judge after an investigation into pirating began about a decade ago but that sum was slimmed down in a subsequent ruling.
Jordan, Jules
   However Justice Louis J. Gouin upheld a California ruling against Elmaleh from 2011 for allegedly pirating movies made by the Jules Jordan Video company, run by 5'7" director whose real - or born name - is Ashley Gasper.
  So chances are that if you strolled into a Montreal sex shop, or any of Elmaleh's many sex shops across Canada, and purchased Trained Teens 2, or John Leslie’s Fresh Meat 10, you were getting a knockoff.
   Elmaleh had been hit by a related suit from Evil Angel, but those parties settled, whereas Jordan's empire chose not to.
   The litigation was launched after Evil Empire received a high number of demands for refunds and realized that the DVDs being returned were fakes.
  Elmaleh said in California court in May that he has no assets in the U.S. and had done nothing unlawful there.
   One might conclude from all of this is that an inventive entrepreneur might have simply created his own porno movies, of which Canada is said to have too few.
   Canada's paltry supply of porno film production is the notion behind a CRTC ruling from March which assailed a couple of companies for not showing the 35 percent minimum Canadian porn requirement on their programming. Quebec has invested heavily in video game industry but thus far the incipient Quebec porn video industry appears to have been forced to do it on their own.