Harold Langevin spent his entire life in the remote northern Ontario town of Biscotasing. To Harold and his friends, especially his life-long chum, Baldy St.Lawrence, Biscotasing was paradise.
In Bisco you could get by on a part time job, occasional pogey, and year round poaching. No one had a mortgage, needed a driver’s licence, had insurance or paid taxes. Women were few and far
between and easily forgotten. As Baldy so eloquently explained: "I’d rather hold a bottle of wine. Wine don’t cost so much. It keeps you warmer, and when you’re done with it you can just throw
it away. It don’t ask you for no alimony." All this left plenty of time for the important things in life like smoking, drinking, and generally just screwing the dog.Who could ask for
more?Harold knew everybody in Biscotasing and everyone knew him. Here are the stories, in his own words, that Harold told to anyone who had the time to listen. And, according to Harold, the
tales were all true, except, of course, for those that weren’t.
