Stop being so fucking cold Montreal. Just stop.
You are so old and picturesque and all the french people who live in you are so well dressed and good looking and talk with their hands in two languages and smoke their faces off.
There is all the crazy street art and the quaint bistros where one can eat all the pate and frites and bone marrow one can stuff in ones face.
And the live music venues with tapas restaurants in their basements all have red walls, old tiled floors and bathrooms with weird bilingual graffiti where everyone leaves their gigantic puffy winter coats on a big rack at the front door without fear that anyone will steal them.
But even when you provide brisket sandwiches from Schwartz's Hebrew Deli on Saint Laurent and suggest I eat them on top of Mont Royal looking down on the city you still cannot convince me that you are in the slightest bit warm and amenable to living in you except maybe from June to September but even then probably not.