"My roommate, Jason, keeps inviting ravers to our apartment," says Philip Scotia, a 27 year old mechanic. "These ravers don't respect our property. They treat our apartment like it's their own personal Star Wars lego set. They always break our stuff, they're constantly moving things around, they never clean up after themselves, and they are always getting high on drugs, which makes it impossible to reason with them."

Philip kept asking Jason to bring his raver friends into line, and when Jason refused, Philip snapped. "I have a job, I have to wake up at 7:00am. It's always been bad at our apartment, but last Thursday was the straw that broke the camels back. Jason decided to bring a dozen 18 year old ravers to our apartment at 2am. I was blissfully asleep when this rowdy crowd of coked up teenagers cranked up the stereo to max, and start blasting Skrillex. It was so loud, our neighbours filed yet another complaint against us with the landlord, and now we're being evicted."

News of the eviction came long after the deviant teens had ruined Philip's night. "These ravers were out of their minds on cocaine. And they just kept snorting it. They were like vacuum cleaners whose brains were empty, cavernous containers that existed solely to store Columbia's finest white powder."

At 4am, Philip had grown tired of trying to convince Jason to ask the ravers to leave. "Jason didn't care if the ravers were keeping me up or not, and the ravers were just as inconsiderate. Since they wouldn't leave by choice, I got creative. I grabbed a bottle of Ajax Spray from our washroom, went to the living room, and started spraying the glass table they were using to snort their coke on. That upset them, but it didn't make them leave. So I started spraying Ajax on their clothes."

One angry coked up teenager got violent with Philip. "He tried to punch me, but he missed and ended punching the wall. I threatened to spray him in the face if he didn't leave, and when he approached me to attack again, I sprayed some more Ajax, this time on his face. Then I turned around, and started spraying Ajax in the direction of all the other ravers, they finally got the message and left the apartment."

Philip eventually got a goodnight's sleep after he had chased the ravers out of his home. "Jason didn't even care that I had just attacked all his friends with a bottle of Ajax. He's a weirdo," says Philip. "We got the eviction notice later that week, but I'm not mad about it. Attacking a bunch of ravers with a bottle of Ajax has always been on my bucket list. And besides, it's time I find a raver free apartment. I'm even going to get a little sign that says Ravers Not Allowed to put on my front door."

Leah Dufour, a 19 year old McGill student, has been a fixture of Montreal's party scene for the last several years. "I've been to countless clubs and countless dance parties," says the young woman, "but Wankfest is the only masturbation party I've been to, and it was by far the friendliest, most accepting and enjoyable event I've ever attended."

Masturbation parties originated in the United States in the summer of 1994, shortly after Joycelyn Elders, who was America's Surgeon General at the time, lost the support of the White House for suggesting that masturbation should be taught in Sex Ed classes. "We started throwing masturbation parties in solidarity with Joycelyn," says Phineas Hendrix, the owner of San Francisco's legendary four story Sexy Adult Fun Time Toyshop. "It's outrageous that an eminent doctor like Joycelyn lost her job just for suggesting that it was okay for teenagers to engage in normal human behaviour. Conservatives are hellbent on making people feel ashamed about their sexuality, so we decided to fight back. We wanted to let people know that masturbation isn't deviant behaviour, that it isn't bad for you, and that it doesn't make you a bad person for enjoying it."

According to Phineas, the goal of a masturbation party is to help normalize sexual behavior, and to combat the negative, puritan view of the body that still holds sway in much of the West. "We wanted to make self-pleasure a positive, non-threatening, socially acceptable activity that people could talk about without feeling like were going to be hunted down by a shotgun wielding Jesus. That's why we organize these parties where people masturbate in public -- it's our way of telling everyone that Jesus isn't going to hit them with a baseball bat just because they jerk off."

"I used to be so self-conscious when I masturbated," says Leah, "but not anymore. After spending an evening in a room full of people spanking and fiddling their bits, I realize it's not that big a deal." Leah says she was initially hesitant about attending. "The idea of spending an evening surrounded by masturbating strangers sounded weird, but I was willing to put up with it because the DJ line-up was out of this world. I'm glad I did."

Going to Wankfest turned out to be a transformative event for Leah. "It was amazing. Partying in Montreal always carries some risks -- no matter where you go, there's always going to be some desperate perverts hitting on you, or trying to get in your pants," says Leah. "So imagine my surprise when no one made me feel uncomfortable at Wankfest. I didn't have any perverts hitting on me, I didn't have anyone say anything inappropriate to me. The men at Wankfest were better behaved than any of the men I've ever met while clubbing or partying. There is something toxic about Montreal's party scene when an event featuring a bunch of strangers jerking off feels considerably safer and more respectful than your regular dubstep party."

Dorothy Parker, who organized Wankfest, says she's not surprised about Leah's experience. "Most parties in Montreal are organized by men, and these guys are absolutely oblivious to the constant, low level harassment that takes place at their events," says Dorothy. "Wankfest is a threatening idea to a lot of people, so we went out of our way to make the event as non-threatening as possible. We had explicit rules that were strictly enforced, we had a zero tolerance policy for creeps, and we had room monitors that made sure everyone felt safe at our event."

Leah wishes other promoters would learn from Wankfest. "I think this city needs more female promoters," says Leah. "That, and the male promoters need to start taking sexual harassment seriously. When a masturbation party has fewer creeps in an attendance than any other party I've ever been too, that's a sign that our promoters can do better. "

"When the music stops, the fists come out," says David Littleman, Montreal's fabled night life promoter. The party maestro, who has organized hundreds of parties over the last two decades, has been on a very successful roll this year thanks to his latest brainchild, DJ Battle Royals.

"The only thing better than dancing to dubstep is brutal, naked violence," says David. "For the last six months, I've ended all my parties by locking the DJ lineup inside a giant, fifty foot metal cage. My beautiful and scantily clad assistant Sonia blows a whistle, and the last DJ standing wins a Tim Hortons gift certificate. It's a lot of fun."

Party goers can't get enough of the bloody spectacles. "The size of my parties have doubled since my first battle royal," says David. "I'm getting even larger crowds now than when I teamed up with an escort agency to provide hookers at my events."

Jessica Lachance says she'd almost given up on partying until her friend brought her to January's Dubstep Death Match, one of David's first forays into the DJ battle royale genre. "Most parties are winding down by the time 6am rolls around, but they're just getting started at a battle royale," says Jessica. "The crowds go wild when all the DJs are tossed into that cage and given their choice of weapon. The best part though, is the fact that the crowds can throw things at the DJs. You've got concession stands that sell broken bottles, dirty nails, and bags of asbestos which people can throw at the DJs their rooting against. It's wild."

Alexis Hoppins, a law professor at Concordia, says that DJ battle royales exist in a grey legal area. "Technically, they aren't illegal, but they're not legal either. I wouldn't be surprised if the police decide to crack down on these events, especially if the promoters are encouraging crowds to attack their DJs with bags of asbestos."

David Littleman remains unphazed by any potential legal setbacks. "Fun, fun, fun -- fun is number one," says David. "We're all consenting adults. It's not like we're throwing broken glass at people who haven't consented to a battle royale. I'm a libertarian, and if the police close us down, I'll fight for my right to party, all the way up to the Supreme Court, if that's what it takes."

Arthur Davis has spent the last three months living in a professional sex dungeon, and says that moving to the dank, dimly lit cavernous pit of inequity is the best decision he's ever made. "I lived with a psytrance promoter for over two years, and compared to that, living in a sex dungeon is paradise," says Arthur. "The dank dungeon that I now call home is much cleaner than my old apartment. Unlike that place, the floors of the dungeon aren't covered in paint, the walls aren't covered in splattered semen because my roommate actually cleans up after herself, and if any hippies show up unannounced, I get to whip them over and over again with a cat o' nine tails."

Arthur says he found his new apartment via Craigslist. "I was fed up of listening to psytrance every hour of every day, so I logged on to the net in search of greener pastures," says Arthur. "That's when I found an add that Madame Attila had put up. She was looking for a roomate who could help her around her dungeon." The intrepid young man decided to take a gamble, and called her up. "Helping a dominatrix brutalize people couldn't be any worse than living with a psytrance promoter."

Madame Attila, for her part, thinks that Arthur is the best roommate she's ever had. "Arthur doesn't ask questions. He does what he's told, and he's very good at following instructions. When I need help gagging an unruly client, he's right there beside me with a whip in hand, ready and willing to get to work."

Living in a sex dungeon isn't all fun and games, but Arthur says it's a big improvement to living with a promoter. "My old roommate would constantly wake me up at night with loud psytrance music. These days, it's the sound of Madame Attila making men and women scream that constantly wakes me up," says Arthur. "It's a huge improvement. People screaming in pain is easier on the ears."

The only thing Arthur regrets is not having found Madame Attila earlier. "Living with a dominatrix is much more satisfying than living with a psytrance promoter," says Arthur. "I just can't imagine living anywhere else than in a dungeon."

Jake Travis, a 24 year old topiary and herbal tea specialist from NDG, was the victim of a vicious prank at Divine Insight, last week's psytrance extravaganza. "I was partying with a couple of friends, when I decided to go the washroom," says Jake. "I found a porta-potty, but the moment I sat down to use it, something started pushing against the plastic walls of the toilet. I think it might have been a truck or a tractor."

The mystery machine pushed the porta-potty until it toppled over, sending its contents splashing all over Jake. "I fell face down, the door towards the ground. I couldn't get out, and all the crap in the potty splattered all over me," says Jake. "It was bad. Some of it got into my mouth, which caused me to vomit, and whenever I'd stop heaving, my gag reflex would act up and I'd start puking all over again."

Jake spent several hours trapped inside the toppled porta potty. "I kept yelling and banging on the walls, but the other people at the party didn't hear my pleas, or if they hear them, they didn't care."

Ellen Thibeault and Yuval Douglas, the two friends that Jake attended the party with, both say they didn't even notice he was gone for the first few hours. "We were both high on krokodil," says Ellen. "And when you're on krokodil, the world sort of fades away."

"When our buzz finally came down, we realized we hadn't seen Jake in awhile, so we set out to find him," says Yuval. The intrepid duo scoured Divine Insight's outdoor grounds. "When we heard him banging on the porta potty, we both freaked out." The two party goers immediately set out to find help, and with the aid of half a dozen ravers, managed to flip the porta potty over so that Jake could escape his foul smelling prison.

No one knows who knocked over the porta-potty. "Whoever did this to me, I hope karma catches up with them. I spent three hours covered in feces and urine," says Jake. "I didn't deserve that. No one does. It's inhuman."

Party Promoter Ginette Galipeau has always been passionate about destroying the environment. "I never thought anyone shared my love for environmental chaos," says Ginette. "When I was a child, my friends would tease me for rooting against Captain Planet. I always thought he was a smug bastard, and I vowed that I would grow up to be the woman who laid waste to the planet's ecosystems. I hated Captain Planet so much, I dedicated my life to destroying him. Sure, I know he doesn't exist, but that's not the point. I hate everything he represents. He's a symbol that I want to crush into thousands of polluted little pieces."

Until recently, Ginette thought she was alone in her disdain for the environment. Then, last month, she discovered Party On The Mountain, a weekly tradition in Montreal where ravers descend on Mont Royal with bags of garbage, which they then scatter across the mountain in a show of defiance against Gaia, the Earth Goddess. Inspired by Party On The Mountain, Ginette has declared every Sunday "I Hate Mother Earth Day", and has called on ravers around the world to get their grime on.

"I hate Mother Earth," says psytrance DJ Effie Nox, who often plays at Party On The Mountain, and has decided to heed Ginette's call for action. "Mother Earth is a complete bitch -- she's a tyrant, a dictator, an obsessive stalker that won't let us be free, man." Other ravers at last week's edition of Party on The Mountain agree. "Why should we be nice to the planet when the planet isn't nice to us?" says Ruby Blossom, a 19 year old Psychology major and jumpstyle fan. "Hurricanes, draughts, super storms, winter. Nature is mean, and it's time for us to give her a taste of her own medicine. The only thing better than dancing to jumpstyle music is polluting the earth. That's why I love Party on The Mountain. It gives me a chance to do both!"

David Geis, the gregarious organizer behind Party on The Mountain, says he never intended the event to devolve into a pollution orgy. "I just wanted to throw some awesome, free parties -- but for whatever reason, the people who started coming to Party On The Mountain decided to transform my event into a mother earth hate fest," says David. "Last week, half a dozen ravers showed up at the mountain with dozens of barrels of unprocessed crude oil, and they just started pouring the stuff everywhere. You couldn't even walk down Park Avenue without getting oil all over your clothes. This obsession with destroying the environment is getting out of hand."

Leanne Thyme, an environmental scientist who works for The Montreal Nature Institute, says she's not surprised that ravers are waging war on nature. "Ravers have a long history of defiling the environment. At heart, raving isn't about dancing to music, it's about despoiling nature. First they started by throwing their garbage around Mont Royal, now their pouring barrels of oil down the mountain. Next thing you know, they'll be tossing depleted uranium shells all over the place. The government has to get its act together. The number one threat to the planet's environmental stability isn't our over dependence on fossil fuels -- it's dirty, filthy ravers deliberately messing stuff up."

Ginette Galipeau is thrilled. "I love that raver's love pollution. In a few years time, I'll have an army of ravers, and together, we'll acidify the oceans, we'll clear log the forests, we'll fill the skies with carbon dioxide," says Ginette. "It'll be glorious."

David isn't so sure. "I just wish ravers would clean up after themselves. Why can't we all just respect the environment?" says David. "Do we really need to wage war on it? It just seems so pointless."