I've decided that as I'm basically the Poet Laureatte of Faux Hill every Friday I will write a new Faux Hill Haiku:
Sittin at Starbucks
Watching Cars Parallel Park
Their Uggs are too tight.
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So if you're like me you've graduated McGill with an honours BA in History and you've moved back into your parents' house and you're unemployed and sit in the Forest Hill Village Starbucks every day wondering why so many people wear Lululemon? Welcome to the Village, bitch. This is how its done in Forest Hill.
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