Pocket P*ssy Pictures: Oshawa’s Proudest Export

A used, discarded and muddied portable pleasure device, designed to look like realistic human female genitalia, was one of the first things I beheld today.

That ridiculous travel clam gets the privilege, as does every meme I lazily scrolled through this morning in bed, of setting the tone for my entire day (happy hump day?).

I could try to save face and say I’ve joined so many community Facebook groups (such as ‘Oshawa Memes Hardcore’, ‘The Official Oshawa memes’, and ‘The Dirty oshawa Memes’), that remain dedicated almost solely to silly pictures crapping on their municipality in vulgar and absurd ways, for ‘research’--but why would I lie when it doesn’t profit me?

Honestly, it’s because this town fascinates me. But, not in a good way.

More like a “Wow, I’m fascinated that you advocate for genocide as a solution to traffic congestion, and you’re not joking” kind of way. There’s sympathy from me for the sense of catharsis needed there, but you’re objectively detestable.

And believe me, as an outsider and new resident to the Durham Region, Oshawa is a fascinating place in an entirely detestable way. A used flesh tube is by far one of the least offensive things you’ll see south of Tauton Road.

 

A Short List of Things I’ve Seen on the Streets of Oshawa, ON:

-used condom with an unused tampon in it

-half a shoe

-bloodied razor blade balanced atop a fire hydrant

-something’s organ

-every bodily fluid

-a mugging

-probably crack (sea salt doesn’t come in dime bags)

 

Etc. etc.

 

For someone steeped daily in such public living conditions, these Facebook groups provide a valuable service: a way to engage with the community, without having to smell it or risk it robbing you at night.

Fact is, this is a scary town to live in. I routinely hear terrifying screaming outside my window, see and hear altercations in my building or in public, encounter aggressive druggies and get accosted by a higher-than-average number of ‘flirtatious’ assholes who stop you in the street, honk from pick-up trucks or corner you on their bikes.

And if you live here, it’s because you have to. If this place is anything (and it may not be), it’s cheap. So what do you do? Other than swallow your pride and buy a can of bear spray, of course.

Personally, I can’t think of a better way to face something scary than to trivialize the hell out of it. Absurdity is the enemy of tyranny, and there’s nothing more absurd that a meme featuring a drippy pork sheath with the caption “Guess what street this is”--because it doesn’t matter what street that sausage stroker is lying in. It could easily be any street in the dirty ‘Shwa, and everyone living here know it.

Oshawa, to it’s residents, is known shorthand for “used sex toy in a dirty street”. Old, somewhat sinister, forgotten, generally mocked and covered in bodily fluids. The least we can all do to get through with our sanity is laugh about it together.