suppose i were to lose a bet.

of course, i never lose anything because i am god and god doesn't lose(except losing my keys. ALL THE TIME).
but lets say. hypothetically speaking.
if this bet consisted of NHL hockey statistics or my skills as an equestrian for instance.

This idea came to mind while i was on the metro.
ideas for the perfect humiliation or punishment someone could impose on my very nature if the impossible WERE to happen.

1) one can perhaps force me to get my eyebrow pierced.
if you know me. you know how i refuse to let anyone touch my face. let alone touching it with their needle hands (you heard me, edward needlehands!)
There is nothing more deliciously quebecois than an eyebrow piercing.
that. a pack of macdonald cigarettes, a case of boreal beer and TVA.
also that bitch from RDS with the rotten hair who covers habs games.

2) Force me to walk around one entire day with an ankle bracelet.

i would rather donate sperm every day for 3 months strait as opposed to wearing an ankle bracelet EVER.
because once again. there is nothing more deliciously quebecois than wearing an ankle bracelet.
anecdote time!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
okay. seriously.
i once had the opportunity of a lifetime to witness the most enchanting specimen of female god ever created with his own hands...or his feet..god created this one with his feet. she was that good.
she had:
-platinum blond hair.
-self tanner.
-white crocheted top (SHEER).
-denim shorty shorts.
-make-up applied with spatula perhaps. in earthy tones. and by earthy tones i mean blue eyeshadow like the sky. and pink lipstick like tubed yogurt explosion all over patio set. EARTHY.
to top it all off her ankle was embellished by the finest piece of ankle bracelet any jeweler at the dollar store could ever make.
god made this woman and then he had to stop himself in his tracks to scream "DAIIIIMMMMMM!!!!!" then he went on conge-maladie because creating this bitch was so intense he had a mini-burn out where they discovered he had borderline personality disorder.
he has since been seeing a therapist once a week.

3) make me watch the movie "my girl" over and over for 3 days strait.

if you ever dreamed of seeing me in an emotionally numbed state. this would be your your once in a lifetime opportunity.
That movie contains everything that haunts me in life:

- death
- dead bodies
- dead mccauley culkin (as quite possibly the most adorable thing you have seen in the history of your life.)
- dan aykroyd's face.

this movie is so fucking sad. i cannot stress how sad it is. and how much i BLUBBER when i watch this movie. it's not so much crying as it is the act of having a REALLY ugly facial expression with tears pouring out my eyes and nose. human beings over the age of 9 should not be allowed to cry this much in one sitting. poor guy. all he wants to do is impress "my girl" with his bad ass mood ring retrieving skills. he doesn't know he's allergic to bees...

and this is why i vow to kill every bee on earth.
a vow to avenge the death of mccauley culkin.

then i saw party monster and i was like "HE'S ALIVE!!!" (but he looks like a corpse)

yeah...
so if you know anyone who has the sudden urge to kill copious amounts of bees.
my bee killing stuff is on craig's list.

eyebrowce,

nothing moistens my panties more
than partaking in a heated discussion surrounding the art of eyebrow maintenance.
now i have to start off by saying how i refuse to touch my eyebrows at all costs (sup vicky!). this is not because i get tweezer happy but leaning more towards the fact that i am so fucking lazy that i only end up doing one eyebrow half-assed and end up leaving the other one chupacabra styles because. well. fuck that.

so far. the 5 people who read this blog can tell that i'm VERY easily amused. even more so by women and men with funny looking eyebrows:

"The Eyebrow Weave"

I saw this video on youtube and died. went to heaven where i was given 40 virgins with which i was instructed to do whatever i please. The best part is that the first 30 seconds i was like "is that a man?" and the worst part is that its a sheeeee. and she thinks she looks so good. why doesnt the gay man tell her she looks like a jack-o-lantern carved out in the shape of jack nicolson's "stoned" smiling?
why does the gay man lie?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wi6rStWXFZQ

"The Surprised Look"

these eyebrows are having a party.
and no one is invited. not even the forehead.
the eyebrows just kind of invaded the forehead without the forehead's permission. kinda like like the whole israel-palestine shindig (EXACTLY like that).
the forehead is PISSED.
there can only be 2 valid explanations for this:
1) this person was attacked by a pair of psychotic tweezers attatched to an esthetician who's just been shot in the stomach.
or
2) they want to go around town with an expression that screams:
"YOU RAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG?!?!!??!?!?!"

"Mantastic Eyebrows"

PLEASE. why do you do this? call me old fashioned by unless you are a furby.
there is no justifiable reason why men should be getting their eyebrows did.
or any hair removed for that matter.
There's this one guy i can think of.
who i will forever refer to as "eyebrows"
I guess he's good looking if you've been blinded louis braille style
ie. stabbed in the eyes with a needle used to pierce aged leather. (HAHA. man this is more accurate that anyone will ever know)
However if i recall correctly, the first and last thing i said to him ("eyebrows". not louis braille) was "holy shit. you're eyebrows are nicer than mine"
followed by him giving me the eyes of death (which looks about 96% less threatening in this case)
but its like. whatevs.
at least i dont look like a mediocre eurotrash atlantic city casino performer who's face has been mauled by the endangered siberian tiger he rapes.
just saying...

i go to bed every night praying for a war to break out.

and "war" is not a figure of speech used in lieu of "herpes outbreak".
i'm talking about one of those olden day kinds of wars with bayonette stabbing, military trench coats designed exclusively for mild weather and my all time fave: mustard gas.
sometimes i run around my neighborhood screaming "MUSSOLINI?!?!?!!?!?!"
we need another character who will do crazy shit where people will be all "where. did. THAT. come from...i thought he was such a nice guyyyy"
i do this not because i play video games
and not because i eat to many chocolate bars *spanish accent*

i do this because i'm majoring in history.
and if no one starts shit. i'm going to fucking lose it.

all i really want to do is be the author of the greatest history book on earth.

the "Menudopedia: the pediest of pedias (even more so than the 'encyclo' brand)"

and i'll hire a graphic designer. and the picture on the front cover will be the word ENCYCLO with a big X over it.
(it was between that and a picture of winnie the pooh doing in judy jetson. but i figured the latter would be some what inappropriate)

it'll be a book of all sorts of stuffs.
a little bit of brittanica...a pinch of guiness world thingy...a smidge of julia child cook bookery.
who knows..
who knows what i'll pull out of my hat (and by "hat". i do not. under any circumstance mean "panties")

if i dont do this. then random person i met will think i'm a liar.
and i don't think i can live with myself if that were to happen.
yes. i told a stranger exactly what you just read above.
then he called the cops.
then i slapped him in the mouth and ran away. got into my white bronco and there was a wild police chase on the los angeles freeway for about 3 hource. then i put the car in reverse causing a 36 car pile-up.
they eventually pulled me over where they discovered 300 pounds of uncut columbian cocaine in my trunk.

however, my main concern in this postage is.

what's the opposite of a "saussage fest".
flower fest? because bahina's (that's how ricky riccardo pronounces it!) kind of resemble flowers if you're thinking positively.
i'm trying to start a trend here...
a word that can be used when describing a weight watchers meeting
or a jazzercise class
a tupperwear party
the WNBA...
perhaps a screening of "rumor has it" starring jennifer aniston.

what if you were to say.
"this place is 'hole to hell-afied'"
cause i refer to my cooter as "the hole to hell".
it has teeth. sharp ones.
if you look close enough, you can see hitler and mao zedong playing table tennis..hitler (i call him 'dolfi') gets real upset cause mao ALWAYS wins but i'm like HELLOOOO of course he's really good at table tennis. then i whisper "he's asian" followed by stating the fact that he's probably also better at math, dance dance revolution, selling counterfeit handbags and giving manicures.

now.

re-read the part from "hole to hellafied" all the way to "giving manicures"

....

yeah. its alright. i did too and i'm like WOW.
i need to copyright that shit.
or just go around eeves dropping.
if someone ever uses the words "vagina", "Mao Zedong" and "sharp teeth" in one exquisite blurb of words.
i get to light them on fire. literally (as opposed to figuratively lighting one on fire).
i stand that they should give people who patent stuff flame throwers for that occasion where someone rips you off.

in conclusion
i am no longer granted entrance to "The Gynecology, China and Pirhana Museum"

...

sometimes. when i think really hard.
like. REALLY really hard.
this image is birthed in my brain.
and from this image.
comes the inspiration to move forward in life...








...

my future as homemaker thusfar...

has been a monumental FAIL on my behalf.
No one wants to have my babies. Ever.
I don't even want to have my babies.
for the sole reasons that

a) doing so will ensure the explosion of my body from an average size (meh) to the size of your average industrial-sized refrigerator.

and

b) I'd be the worst mother to ever walk the face of the earth.

I have 0..wait. scratch that out..Make that less than 0. like maybe -76 maternal instincts.

Tragically, every time i hold a baby, i come marginally close to dropping said "creature of god's wonderful kingdom" about 14 times without their parent's knowledge. There they are thinking im so friendly with their bebe because i'm smiling but little do they realize that they are witnessing the nervous smiling of someone who nearly accidentaly killed their child like maybe 4 times in the last 2 minutes. With this, i have come to the haunting realization that babies have the tendency to move A LOT. and that motion tends to be generated in the unfortunate direction that is out of my arms and onto the floor. (face-first)

I'm like the opposite of a magnet. I'm like an infant repellant- like baby RAID. En plus, i know of maybe one baby that will stay in my arms without pulling a fit of the century. That and the fact that i'm there 2 minutes and i'm like "okay, take this thing away from me" but I don't actually say that. Instead, i take the highway of "whoa-hoho! look at that! she wants to come to you" and then i plop him/her (cause i know so many hermaphrodite babies) into the lap of the nearest animate object.
or inanimate. (I once dropped my baby cousin into the loving arms of a house plant)

An explanation for all this would lead to the simple fact that i dont have the ability and strength to love anyone more than i love myself. Loving myself and looking in the mirror while pouting seductively takes up most of the time in my day. Plus. babies need to be fed and stuff so that requires the patience that i just don't have.

I have been consistently hearing horror stories about girls my age getting engaged and it kinda makes me want to purge my breakfast onto the floor. I mean, personally, getting married at this moment or ever, for that matter, is very high on the list of things that completely disinterest me.

If someone were to forse me to get married right now, i would burst into tears because that would imply that i'd have to live in the shithole that is RDP for the rest of my life when my dreams lie far beyond that.
I live my life day by day in hopes that one day i will move to st. michel, quit my job and collect welfare.
(oh hells yes. what? did you think i was gunna go all soft? I think NOT)
Telling me i need to get married would be like telling me i have to work at a daycare from now on.

I know i'm going to be one of them 35 year olds that are single and no one really knows why (but they really secretly think you're gay). then everyone tries to set you up with their balding, loser relative that will be scared of you because you're not the "conventional" girl. By not "conventional" i mean not someone who sits their and smiles because that's the "cute" that has been instilled in their brains (that and REALLY liking the color pink).
I've read enough Jane Austen and i know he whole "spinster" deal. i don't really mind it besides the fact that in this day and age i won't get to wear a petticoat.
i also refuse to carry around and quote the bible.

i like to imagine hell

as being a little like having to take a greyhound bus from montreal to daytona beach while having to watch the movie "Evita!" for the entire 30 hour trek.

c'mon dont lie
you know you're in a situation of sorts when you have to begin contemplating whether or not said situation would be like hell.

i do this about 150 times a day

in line at mcdonald's at 8 o'clock in the morning on a saturday and there's like 19 people in front of you ordering cappuccinos and that takes like a zillion years to make esp if the person serving you is mentally retarded. and all you want is a gd percolator stylez coffee but no. cause you have to wait for the earth to collide with the sun in order to get your caffeine fix when all you wanna do is just SIT DOWN.

or how abouts.

waiting for the bus. when its -40 and the person in back of you keeps unnecessarily touching you and there's 2 annoying girls diarrhea-ing garbage talk out of their assholes and you kinda wanna turn around and say "WOULD YOU MIND?!" but you know you won't cause you don't have the balls. so then you turn the music louder and the bus finally comes after like 47 years. then you get the best seat on the bus right next to the door (and you think to yourself "shit. what if someone steals my ipod and runs out the door?) then this paraplegic guy gets on with his walking thing and he comes directly at you with his swagga and tells you to get out of the seat because its his seat. and you roll your eyes like you just been impaled by the horns of a bull (yes. THAT BAD). and you sigh a sigh that is so intense it almost sounds orgasmic. but like. raped orgasmic. like not good. then you have to go the the back of the bus where you're forced to sit next to someone who smells like mothballs and some douchebot that's listening to techno full fucking blast.

should i go for 1 more?

k k
k (OH FUCK)

gastro. you wake up in the morning and you're still half dead so you think "ouu a tickle in me throat" but non.
it's the big G (and by G i definately. most definately do not mean Gargoyle)
you wake up 2 hours later and you think "i feel like berfing" (that's not a typo)
then you drag your ass to the toilet. get on your knees and do your womanly duty (NOT)

you know how the rest goes. and the next 12 hours of your day. with a cameo appearance by 7up. and toast.
and lipton soup...i always ask the mother to put alphabet pastinas when i have Gastro in hopes that the words "MELISSA IS GOD" will come out whilst i be purgin'.

fahhh sho.

my life revolves around

the concept of never ever being raped.
that and quoting myself.
ever since i can remember remembering, i've had the most interesting fear of strange people.
we can all thank barney the dinosaur for that.
and barney rubble. he kinda looks like he rapes babies non?
en tous cas.
i walk around town as if someone is going to jump me from behind and stab me.
it's a little thing my therapist calls "anxiety"
it is annoying yes. but its better than having someone give you a "tic tac" and then you die and then they have sex with your dead body (not cool).
i already told my mother
me said:

"mom. when i die, if you're not alive. make damn well sure that everyone knows that my dying wish is to make sure no one has sex with my corpse, WORD."

she told me to shut up. and i said FUCK YOUUUUUUU (no i didnt)

so times when being a paranoid foo came in handy.. i can think of a couple.

mars volta concert. ghettoness parking. everyone leaves their shit in the car except me and my friend jess. i was about to leave urrthang but then i thought to myself

"i've been watching a lot of intervention recently. and i'm kinda convinced everyone is on crystal meth. so im keeping all my shit on me"

well low and behold. we get back to the car and the back window is shattered. everyone's shit is gone. and i look down and see my untouched belongings and think "shit...world: 32943298733- Me: 1"

from that day forward, i walk around screaming "everyone is on crystal meth!" and rightfully so. because im pretty sure them mofuggaz that broke into the car were looking for drug moneyzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

ezampole 2.

10 o'clock at night. 44 bus going from metro to ghetttttttttttooooosville. a group of hoodrats get on the bus...one of them is looking at my purse every so often with a perverted look in his eye (that look being the one of "i'mma steal your shit"). so i take my purse and wrap it around my arm like 7 times and hug it. so then they get off the bus and i'm all FEWF. then i just hear screaming. i turn around and those bastard stole some poor girl's ipod out of her hand and threw her on the floor as they got off the bus.

and i was like BINGIA! that could have been me. and that could have been my purse being sold to a pawn shop in exchange for crystal meth money.

so from now on. i hold on to my belongings for dear life at all times. i want to get mace but i'm probably going to be in a situation where i'll spray myself when i'm looking for a nail file or some shit.

on that note: i'll leave you all with something i google imaged. the topic was "creepy looking man'. i saw this and i was like "YES YES this totally encompasses the pervert-slut that goes around town molesting people, places,things and animals"