Illustration: Izabella Balcerzak

Exclusive interview with Oily Conoily, the canola oil smell

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After years of questions, mystery and perturbed nostrils, Out Of Touch brings you an exclusive interview with the campus’ most sought-after celebrity—that fucking canola oil smell by the book store.

Tell me your story, Oily.

I started on my path to the big city just as you’d expect the smell of any old lubricating cooking tool to. I just wanted to matter more, you know—to get smelled. I came to Toronto because I figured it would be the place I’d fit in best. There’s a lot of smells here but not as much canola as you’d expect. I perched up by Ryerson, wafting in and out of those back alleys by the bookstore. I like the idea of making my mark with the first year students as soon as they set foot on campus. I let them know early on that Ryerson’s not exactly the PAM of universities, but it ain’t no olive oil either.

So where did the drive to get you to the big city come from?

I wasn’t exactly born as pungent as the rest of the smells out there. Back where I’m from, there’s huge fields that reek of onion or cow manure and I just never felt like I could keep up with cow shit, you know? So that’s why I figured I’d give the city a try. For us smells there’s more subtlety here. I’m competing with unique stuff, like street meat or subway-sludge.

Ryerson President Mohamed Lachemi once said, “the campus wouldn’t be the same without that smell.” How do you feel about that?

Honestly, a little uncomfortable. As far as smells go I like to think of myself more as the anti-establishment type. I really burn the midnight oil trying to create a grassroots identity for myself on campus, so to have support of the administration isn’t a goal of mine. This isn’t your grandfather’s olive oil, don’t get it twisted. I really don’t smell good.

Any regrets?

I voted for Harper.

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