Montreal traffic report.

Once upon a time
France bestowed a gift of
The statue of liberty
upon New York.
Similarly,
the overlords of the anti-christ
gifted Montreal
the Metropolitain highway.
AKA
"The 40"


So i don't know about you
But as soon as i get off
the met
having survived another trip
down exit "suicide lane",
Wherein i have to merge through
Three lanes of speeding death.
I immediately spark a celebratorial cig
Because nothing screams
"I made it"
like voluntarily inhaling
toxic fumes.

But seriously.

That fucking highway
Can go to hell.
The ghosts of the Decarie circle
Have witnessed many a meltdown at its expense
As i ultimately end up
At the airport
Or in the west island.

Then there's the pot holes.
Its fun
Its like an obstacle course
But if you hit the obstacle
Your front bumper gets ripped off
And you find yourself letting out
a myriad of
Sighs and Swears
which just so happends to be
the name of the emo band
I decided to invent
after I decided
that Blink 182
can go fuck itself.


Inconsiderate drivers

Fuck you.
Let me pass.
You fucking asshole.

I let, like more or less
75% of people
Cut in front of of me on the highway
But then I remember:
I have a soul.

That song that just HAS to come on

Im sitting in my Hyundai Tucson
i'm in crazy traffic
And i don't have an AUX plug
So at times
When i don't feel like listening
To my assortment of 10 cds
I dare to venture into the mystical universe
That is:
Virgin radio.
At this point,
i've already reassured myself
twice
That its going to be okay
But as the commercial break fades
I begin to hear
a hinting of
What sounds like
it may be
and to my horror
it is
Pitbull.
That,
or some song sampling another song
(Because god forbid you
Pick up an instrument
And write a goddamn melody.)
Instantaneously i begin to feel the urge
Where i want to rip the face
Off of my head
And throw it out
The fucking sun roof.

Editor's note: my car does not have a sun roof either.

Twitter 101 at the University of the Disenchantment

This one goes out
To all the people
Who tweet things like:

"Just went to liquid nutrition
and had a smoothie!! #omnomnom"

I don't know if you got the memo
(The one that i wrote
while on my toilet bowl)
But nobody gives a flying
Deep fried
Fuck
What you're
Doing
Or eating for that matter.
Ever
Thats why they invented little thing called
Instagram.

This information
Does not have to be broadcasted
All over twittertopia.
Spare us.
Unless the straw
Used to drink said smoothie
Has gotten
Lodged in your trachea.
then Call 911.
Or tweet"

"Im choking!!! #fml #seriouslythough"

Correct me if im wrong
(Because i probably am)
But isn't twitter supposed to be
A marketing tool?
The fact that you are bored and
Consequently tired
Is of no concern to anyone.
Unless im a twitter account
Selling flaming batons
(still bored?)

The issue lies in the fact
That we are living in a world
Where everyone wants to be famous
Everyone wants to be a star
And anyone who is anyone knows
That the best way to become famous
Is to somehow
Crawl into a male celebrity's nutsack
And pray to god that you aren't
Swallowed.
Am i right, Will Smith's Kids?


On that note:
Follow me
@melnudohyeah
I never tweet
But if you enjoy this bullshit
There's like
A 70% chance my tweets
Will be equally if not more entertaining.

My childhood vs whatever the hell is going on in 2013

"Some children have legitimate learning disabilities
and then there are those
who have yet to come to term
with the fact that the teacher
is not an ipad."

yes
I just quoted myself.

this here post
is a comparative effort.

We didnt have any fucking wifi

If you wanted entertainment
You'd go inside
And watch maury
Then you'd go outside and scream
"Y'all don't know me!!!"
At the next 10 people you saw.

You know what i use to play with when i was a kid?

A rotary telephone
I swear to god
I use to pretend i was making long distance phone calls
(The fact that i now work at a call center
Is painfully ironic)
I also invented a game called
"Shoe olympics"
A game where my cousin vanessa and i
Would stand in the middle of the street
And throw our shoes at each other
I once hit her in the face with mine
about 2 days before her communion
Because nothing says WWJD
Like a black eye
On a miniature bride.

When i was bored
my grandmother
Had encyclopedias.
You know
The 26 massive books.
So while my grandparents watched
la RAI
I would sit there with the letter "W"
Reluctantly learning about
Wisconsin and whales.

Then there was "Caramba! Che Fortuna."
For all you non-italians
this was:
A 4 hour variety show
I'd be forced to watch on saturday nights
Starring the 75 year old italian beyonce:
Rafaella carra

La mani destra and sinistra
Maurizio, Mario, Francesco
and about 50 other Eros Ramazzottis
wearing black pleated pants
and a matching black, short-sleeve
turtle neck.

Basically
it was deal or no deal
With apples instead of suitcases.
OK
forced is a strong word.
That show is the main reason
Why i can speak italian
But like
Not at all.

Drunk Girl Etiquette

I was at a Montreal Canadians hockey game
when the idea for this post sprung to my mind.
(If you were wondering, I actually did watch the entire game
multitasking at its finest)

Here lies
A lesson on how to get
Completely
Shitfaced
And still look
like her majesty
of fabulous

In 3 easy steps:

Lipstick


My rule of thumb is no lipstick
Last time i checked
"excentric grandmother on sleeping pills face first in a bowl of soup"
Was never a good look
It reminds me of that episode of The Simpsons
where homer invents the makeup gun
And shoots Marge in the face
on "Whore setting".
Unless you want to look
Like you just gave oral pleasure
to a rainbow
By all means...

Heels

Unless you can walk in them
Please avoid heels at all cost:
Opt for wedges if you have to.
For Nothing pains me more
Than a drunk girl
At 3 am
Walking around looking like
That mother fucker from
Lord of the rings.

Attire


If you're going to wear a mini skirt
Thats 2 sizes too small
All the power to you.
Its the 21st century
And monistat is totally a thing
We have access to:
Like clean drinking water.
But for god's sake wear some normal underwear.
Thongs are sexy
But i dont feel like seeing your
Saggy ass.
Prosciutto belongs in the window of a butcher shop
Not above my head in a night club
Spreading microscopic fecal matter all over my vodka soda
While you're dancing,
Convulsing,
Or whatever it is you think you're doing up there.

Bridesmaid Etiquette

This post has been inspired by the recent events that have taken place in the past year (2012):
My brother's wedding
The movie "bridesmaids"
And more specifically
TLC's "say yes to the dress: bridesmaids"

Now.
I like to believe that i was
and will
Make a fantastic bridesmaid to anyone who assigns me that task.
I know this because when my friend sam asked if i'll wear a muff for her future nutuals.
I quickly responded by saying
"Ill wear a dick on my forehead if that's what you want"

And that's just it.
The word "maid"
Is actually medieval for "bitch"
according to my encyclopedia.
Hence,
Making you "the bride's bitch".
If the bride says jump,
You say how high.
If the bride wants her wedding to be
"Little Bo Peep" themed
You go to the farm
And you steal five lambs.
Shoot the farmer
(with a shot gun, because god knows you have no aim)
In the chest.
Tip over a cow (just because at that point, you kind of have to)
And RUN.

At the end of the day
(because there's always that one bridesmaid)
Its not your wedding.
You are not important.
You are an accessory.
An embellishment to the event.
You are the Swarovski detail
Added to the
Dress that was perfectly fine without it.
But the bride likes "bling"

Now
This is like
12 years overdue:
Can we all take a moment
To ctrl, alt, del
The word "bling" from our vocabulary
right along with "cutie patutie"

and "SWAG".
because a swag to me
is and always will be
an elaborate floral arrangment
one hangs over a door frame.
circa 1998
thanks to my cousin Nadia.
Learn your DIY
mother fuckers.

A month never too late...

Another year has gone
Another Victoria's Secret fashion show has caused many a man to come.
- Me

This is my ode to the annual Victoria's Secret models
and their annual fashion show.
The one hour of the year where
Everyone who isn't Brazillian wants to kill themselves.
I actually wrote this post like, 2 months ago
but then I got lazy.
Personally,
I like to celebrate the event
By sitting my fat ass in front
Of the television
Eating a tub of icecream
Crying tears of fat
Collecting said tears of fat
Then eating them.
Supermodels are the female equivalent
To professional sports athletes
Except men arent motivated to starve
Themselves dry
When watching the super bowl.

I for one,
Have a love/hate relationship
With models.
Considering that I was morbidly obese
By the age of 6
With legs as lengthy as a tree stump
I always knew that i would never grace the editorial pages of Vogue magazine.
And thats okay
Because i have a low metabolism.
It's not my fault
But that of my parents
And ancestors before them.
So
WAY TO GO mom and dad.

So we'll start with the positive
Since that's what im all about
I fucking love models because
Who else can sell a perfume that smells like granny ass
USING THEIR EYES!!!!

Secondly.
I love them because i hate them
But i dont really hate them because i love them
Im sorry but anyone that can sell me something that i dont need
Just by contorting their body and
Pulling a face
That
had i try to imitate,
While being photographed:
Would look like a stroke victim
Is A-OK in my books.

Now onto the negs:
Those tiny nipples
Anyone else notice how models
(all of them)
have the same nipples you had when you were like, 5 years old?

I use to major in history
Here's a fun fact:
Models
Specifically
VS models
are the founders, forefathers
And Führers
of the "duckface" movement.
So if there is any finger to point
That finger is pointed in the direction
Of those sexy women.
Now everyone thinks that just because they pout in a photo
That they look like a VS model
When
sorry to break to you
But you look like a fucking idiot.

Ps.
The Million Dollar Bra:

I don't know about you,
but when i take off my bra
(the days i wear one)
I usually throw it somewhere
That is closest to my person and the floor
Then i usually cant find it for 3 days
Plus im not down
For crackheads
Breaking into my house
Like that.
Seriously
You can buy a lot of crack
With a million dollars.