selena gomez is a pedofile

imagine someone actually sees this post and calls the cops?

"Selena gomez is banging a 16 year old child"

it's the biebs
the patron saint of "lesbian haircut"
bah
i'd hit that
if he were like
25.

and his last name was Timberlake.


If Cinderella were invented in 2011.
i'd be cinderfella.
and i'd be pregnant,
16
and my prince charming would have just left me for a sluttier french girl.
ie. the story of my life
he'd also masturbate to world of warcraft.
i'd LITERALLY have to light my tits on fire to get his attention

so to recap:

i'm pregnant.
16.
and there's a charred inverted hole
where my tits use to be.
On a movie screen.
wait for it...
in 3-D.

Speaking of tits...
(whatchu sayyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!?!?!?!?!?!?!)


Has anyone else noticed how trucks are like
the big tits of the highway?
they're big
all you notice
fun to touch?
I'd imagine you wouldn't want to have your head lodged between them.
nor would you want it ramming you into a sidewall on the service road
during 8am rush hour...
not cool.
AT all.

beeteedubbbbbbbza

i'm starting a facebook group called
"i miss the old pope"


Join!

saturday afternoon pensieris.

1)how to get rid of that secret admirer:

talk about your bowel movements in detail.
at any given chance.
why?
because i like to shut down the popular belief
that woman do not shit.
we do.
a lot.
it's awesome.
when i poop
i tell people i'm taking a crippity crap.
and then i continue to crip walk from my kitchen to the bathroom
all the while my father shakes his head in disbelief.
the disbelief that he is 1/2 of the reason for my existance.
ITS ON!


2) funerals

why?
i have no explanation for this.
i'm asking why?
funerals.
are fucking disgusting.
i don't want anyone to see my dead body.
nonetheless covered in the worst quality foundation one can find.
i recently went to a funeral home where my mother touched the corpulence
or her uncle as one would often refer to him before he became "the corpulence".
i immediately chopped off her arm from elbow to fingertip.
with a guillotine.
a miniature one.
fyi. i bought this on guillotine.com/miniature.
caused a bit of a scene.
but it was a necessity.
....
in reality i turned to her and whispered,
"never touch me with that hand ever again"
then i did the sign of the cross
and continued to condoleanzer the family in mourning.


3) girls who wear sandals with no nylons with mini dresses in the winter.

dear girls from outside the province of Quebec who go to Mcgill:
enjoy the urinary tract infection.
and the yeast infection according to my mother.
because when its -30 outside.
everyone knows that the only way to properly warm up your toes
is to stick them into your vagina.
but seriously.
i have nothing more to say because i like being warm
and not showing my pasty ass white legs in the dead of winter.
and 95% of the time they're wearing like the UGLIEST shoes.
if they were nice. i'd be like. okaie. avec raison.
but NOT EVEN.
its all about panty hose and booties, kids.
because being sick sucks.
and everyone knows
you can still be a first class slut while wearing jeans.
trust me
i promise you.
it's possible.

ugly faces

if one were to conduct a devious plot which consisted of inventing scam charity.
wherein 100% of proceeds would go towards funding the car being used by the human life-form demonstrated in exhibit A,B,C and D.
but masked in the form of brothers and sister's club "please adopt me, brother" advertisement...

which photo would one choose to promote said scam charity?

rdpanguage.

i don't know about you...
but nothing makes me feel more feminine.
than catching random men staring down my low cut cardigan.
i write the amount of eyeballs in my diary right before i cry myself to sleep.
i don't know what possessed me to not wear a tank-top.
maybe the fact that i cannot function before 2 o'clock in the afternoon.
(baby needs her fourteen hours of undisturbed beauty rest)
hence. oversight?
or the fact that my drawers look like charlie sheen had a coke-induced sexfest in them.
in return making it impossible to find anything.
except used condoms and rolled up 20 dolla billz.
and the little kid from 2 and a half men
(knowatimsayin'?!?!?!?!!?!?!)

anyway the point of this entry is to show everyone in the world
or 12 followers.
five of whom are the same person twice (spanks guys!)
the bordello of a town i live in.
(NEVER to be mistaken with the funtimes moulin rouge genre bordello)

the town of: riviere des prairies
(aka. rdp. aka the "real deep pussy" -copyright the ginge-)

never have i had the opportunity to run errands on a friday afternoon
without almost ramming into the car in front of me while i'm driving
(or "doin' mah thang" as i often put it...)
who puts their left flicker on
a mere moment before he/she slams on the breaks.

once in the maxi parking lot i was straitening out renee zelweggger.
(if you were wondering: yes i call my mother's car "renee zelwegger")
i check my surroundings and as im backing up
this betch in a murano flies past me
like a car wound up and thrown onto slip n' slide.
coated entirely in a thick sheath of petroleum jelly.

a demonstration of the cesspool that is rdp driving skillz in

3
2
1


*clears froat*
this was in the parking lot of blockbuster.
i DIED when i saw this and i just HAD to capture it.
not only did he park at 45 degree angle
but he also parked in a handicapped parking space.
the parking lot was empty too.

here's another view:

ps. this car belongs to yours truly.
(if you were wondering, i refer to myself as "he" almost all of the time)






this is the best.
this is the aftermath
of a city bus.
crashing into someone's front yard.
the fucking 43 man.
what i would have given to be a passenger on that bus.
if i were given a bus
and were told to ride said bus.
i would do the EXACT same thing.

then blame it on "the voices"
as the old saying goes:

"you can always catapolt a city bus into a fence.
just tell people you're marlena evans from days of our lives"
(FUCK yes. 3rd reference in the entire history of this blizzy-og!)

">
*jump to 0:56!!!!!!*

"poor marlena. girlfriend, you are a mess!"

HA! Classic!

walking in a winterwonderfuckmyliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife.

I live in canada. yes. we have snow.
but FUCK (seriously)
this morning i was jumping over snow hills like fucking balto himself..
all the way to the bus stop and i caught the bus by maybe a half-second.
so TECHNICALLY:
if i were not resilient and nymph-like (in every way shape and form)
-being that i am god's personal prima ballerina and all.
i would have missed that bus.
and i know the rat woman is thanking every single cosmic force in the universe that this did not happen.
because i would have strait up punched her across the fucking head.
(something about the holidays that brings out the vurry best in me..)

the rat woman: looks and acts like a rat. hence further proving my theory that people who look like rats.
act like rats.
look at snoop dogg.
and this guy that came to my elementary school.
his name was frank.
he was pure rat.and obv. the resident juvenile delinquent.
why is she the rat woman one would ask?
besides being the identical twin sister of splinter from the ninja turtles.
this betch waits at the front of the bus line.
however, be forewarned that:
the concept of a LINE does not exist in riviere des prairies.
and she cuts in the line after about 3 people get on the bus.
and true to rat form,
takes the last available seat on the bus.
rat woman.

so allegedly we're harboring dead bodies in my house
because the heating is like never on.
and the mother screams at me every time i do.
my nip nips can nearly carve out a statue of "the david".
david allan grier.
i swear to you when i say i sleep with 5 layers of sheetness.
and one is a duvet.
duvet allan grier.

what else.

sidenote: i want to be in the nutcracker.
peecaz cracking nuts is my forte.

so my new years resolution is to be more positive.
because im not a miserable old man.
i'm young.
and my boobs are really perky
so no need to be negative now is there?!

basically:

the old negative melnutso thinks:

"i want to hijack santa's sleigh and take santa and his reindeer to china.
i'll take them to a bamboo garden.
strap them to the ground and sit there for 2 weeks
(in the foldy camping chair i got at canadian tire which in reality means i stole it from minty's garage.)
while bamboo grows right through their fucking foreheads.

however

the new positive melnotnutso thinks:

"this calls for sears photo studio opp..who's down for some ugly t-shirt, fake fireplace mantle editorial posing?!"

i know i am.

and for you pleasure but in reality just the pleasure of mine-own:

">

JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-AH!

things i've analyzed over the weekend

1) "MTV" edition


Mtv taught me to always put my money on the little talentless white boy with the falsetto that makes liberace roll over in his grave and ass-cream all over his crimson velveteen coffin.
and then place the rest of your moneys on the coked-out white girl dressed in raw meat scraps.
even if there is no option or category of the sort.
you create your own category.
and you put your fucking money on it.

side note.
the word "situation" is dead to me because of MTV
and that asshole.
anytime anyone says "situation"
regardless of context
techno beats and strobe lights start blaring in my head.
i imagine a little orange man start to fist pump to "beat dat beat".
and i just see that bastard's ugly face.
lifting up his shirt and pointing to his abs.
that's what's going on my my head
in reality i start to flick the light switch on and off
while singing "DSH DSH DSH DSH DSH"

2) "nicki minaj's ass" edition

for the record:
i have NOTHING negative to say about this woman.
i adore nicki minaj and i think she belongs nowhere that isnt my fireplace mantle
in an anne of green gables dress and wig
because she is absolutely and completely a doll.
it is with unanimous envy when i say that her ass
deserves an area code of its own.
and a strap holster that can be hooked and placed comfortably onto my body.
when i'm feeling for some discounted kfc.
when i'm pouring 500$ champagne down my ass-crack
or when i'm bending over to smack the ground
which FYI
i've been doing a lot lately.
(i would also forget to mention that this is one of the strenuous ritual performed in order to satisfy my obsessive compulsive disorder)
that and doing "the hustle" when entering a room

3) "my mother killed the only 2 friends i've ever had" edition


the spiders in my shower.
i usually kill spiders because i'm a ruthless cunt.
but i had a special attachment to these ones.
because they've seen me naked (so we can all assume they wanted to die)
and they've heard me sing the sweet melody of really bad renditions of fiona apple songs (ditto)
and most importantly
they sold me the best weed i have ever smoked in my life.
face numbing.
i remember it like it was 10 minutes ago (literally)
i look up. no spiders.
followed by "YOU KILLED MY FRIENDS!!"
to which she responds:
"what friends?"
(she's right)

RIP jermajesty and prince michael the third.

on a lighter note.
my birtday is in.... *takes out calendar*
exactly fitteen (not a typo) days.
"22 anni pirsi" as my grandmother would say
which translates to:
"we found you in a cardboard box on the service road and nobody in the family likes you"

things that should be relevant in pop culture part one: scene one

strip monopoly.
cause nothing says "eff me" quite like nudity and real estate.
not to mention that by the end of the game
(three hours later)
all you've taken off is your jacket.
and you're no longer friends with any of the people in the same room as you.
now after that.
just picture the old man with the mustache and the top hat.
completely nude.
wearing nothing exception the sock holder-upper straps around his calf
that are holding up his tuxedo socks.

I can't admit that i have ever played a full game of monopoly.
the same way i've never watched titanic from beginning to end.
it's actually scarred me for life.
imagine being awake and seeing sunshine and british accents.
then you fall asleep...
to ultimately wake up and SHIT IS GETTING FORREHL.
the water is cold.
di caprio is dead.
and everyone is like
"disney cruise my ASS"

on that note

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cj1wcs7SZj0

the biche and i have been rehearsing this scene for weeks on end.
biche is the monopoly guy.
because i won the bet.
so i got to be ace ventura.
the bet was over the celebrity apprentice.
who could predict the winner...
i won by default because we don't even watch the celebrity apprentice.
and cause biche is a dog.
thus meaning she has no REAL opinion except for:

eat
sleep
hump
and BEHHHHHHHH *side-eyes of lividnessssssssss*



PRA PRA!