sometimes the world gets you down.

sometimes your pussy is wet.


and the latest inductee to the exclusive realm of those ambushed to shave my roomates neck is annie, fresh in town from sudbury, she enjoys having cats, and being from sudbury - give annie a round of applause for being a good sport.
a few thoughts;

- when wearing a solid colour from head to toe, when you wear brown, you look like a large lean mobile turd.

- if you're wearing golashes, heeled golashes arent a stylish alternative, they just make you look like a rubber ducky of tasteless sky scraper proportions.

- eat curry, not wear it.


the other day overtop black leggings or longsocks, my boss was wearing a deep royal purple capri length, flared wideleg, highwasted pant with a short cut, atrocity of a blazer-top-thing, volumptuous-fatty-garment.

rediculous, right?

in plain english for all you men,

she looked like grimace.

i work beneath a woman who is paid a notably larger salary than mine, who chooses to dress herself in a grimace-like manner.

baffling really. i personally would like to look like a russian babushka doll, but what does that matter, because my appearance is getting written up by a shapeshifter who chooses to be an upsidedown purple bouquet of bridal flowers. it is what it is i guess.

those poor unsuspecting asian children are me and my coworkers, unable to point out that she may be the long lost purple barbapapa.

(this is a french cartoon show from a billion years ago, it translates in english to 'cotton candy' those mutated rainbow blobs are cotton candy - how wretched, i know.)

how obscene really. i mean, aside from hating all of the mcdonalds characters, i don't really know which end of the spectrum i'm on about the hamburglar still, only because i like the name hamburglar;

but come ON, one wide can opening hick yokel tooth? throw him beside this eggplant coloured gumdrop chicken mcnugget mystery blob, YEAH THATS WHAT I WANT MY CHILDREN TO GROW UP WITH. how confusing.

even more confusing?

this ahem, "hand puppet" which may be a fancy word for condom inclusive with cockring and GRIMACE ARMS.

don't you hand puppet me. do you realise who you're toying with? i've heard it all when it comes to sex, besides, i can see the grimace faced reservoir tip.
the only thing more enraging than that filthy sack of a armed condom is the fact at how mad would you be after it broke and GRIMACE LITTERALLY IMPREGNATED YOU.

a comedy club is around the corner from my home and i always eyefuck it when passing by, contemplating on watching, or worse attempting. too afraid mostly of watching the unfunny, even worse being unfunny, or the worst fate of all, coming off as some chatty cathy jenny seinfeld with hand movements galore. best kept at bay in a blog i think. i could write a fucking enclyclopedia gillen on retarded instances of my childhood though. thanks mom, speaking of mom....speaking of unsuspecting azns;

knock knock who's there?


and now an intermission of one singular slut;

how disproportionate, what is she? a pussycat doll? isn't there a desert storm for her to dance in somewhere?

i mostly just want her hair.

besides, i like my full un-coconut shelled boobs better anyways.


the bastard child of Clearly Canadian beverages never to be seen again; orbitz is the angler fish of the drink world.



secretly i wish that the angler fish had evolved into a land creature. it would surely weed out the feeble people who fell for its dangly lil temptation only to be eaten by some jagged toothed human. then again , who am i to mock the unothodontis-ized folk.

ohhhhhhhhhh 1996 the year of the tickle me elmo, this weak beverage may as well have been made from tiny tufts of elmo which had strayed from when desperate parents got in fist fights in department stores for these toys. how maniacal.

i would like to take a second to give a bigups to the guy who warped the tickle-me-elmo's voice box to say twisted un-elmo like things. GO FORTH YOUNG MAN AND BRING LAUGHTER TO THE DISHEARTENED.

not only can i not picture having kids, but after the miracle of me having a child, i could not picture myself needing a toy so bad as to hurt another person for it. i mean, hurting another person yes, maybe even hurting them with a toy, but going in for the kill with the toy as the trophy? come on.

give me a sash and we'll talk.


oh my lord.

i can't believe this dress is only 30$.

is this what im reduced to? window shopping for a thirty dollar dress online?

i need a new cocksucking mother fucking job. i'll diddle your baby zipper if you help a sista out.

unless you don't want me to. pffft,




i hate cherubs more than my mother.

and on that note, with the beginning of a new layout colour scheme, i remove all colour from pictures.


this is what my wet dreams are made of;

and in my dreams, i'm the happiest 600lb heifer carried around by farm technology.



the veronicas vs.tegan and sara

whatever, i can't decipher right now whos the sluttiest dykiest troubadour.
last night at indigo there was an aged asian man ranging from either 35yrs, poorly aged and homely in a cosby sweater, to 50yrs old youthfully sad wasted old and horridly azn in a cosby sweather. either or, beside us he sat with his respective pile of reads to flip through, each tiding him over for no more than 20 seconds each before tossing them to his feet on the ground. and there they stood , tall and proud;

- a suicide girls book.
- a black booty mag.
- assorted slightly questionable pornographic artsy type fashion mags.

sufficient provisions for the spank bank.

dear sad sad asian man,

let me buy you the internet, where if nothing more, you can use amazon.ca more discretely.

seriously M.I.A.???

if you go around trotting your pregnant cunt around in agyness deyns trash at the grammys much longer no one will galang galang galang your stench-trench no longer.

plz bring back your unpregnated self.

leave the baby at home.


bitch don't just stand there wit' ya nose up;

slow day, great sunny sunday. bigups.



agness deyn.

biggest love hate relationship of the moment. very cute, very chic, moonlights as very hipster when pushing the vintage derelict hobo look too much. bad agness, naughty agness.
she's actually gorgeous for the entire jean paul gaulthier MADAME campaign, but other than that i feel that everyone is gush gush gushing too much over her quirky unique stylings which are really a typical 16+ fashion sense, and never-may-care attitude. maybe im just bitter, unappreciated, a brunette, and poor.

you cannot wear a mesh drape with strategically placed warhol patterns to cover your unmentionables. because i will mention them.

boy bodied granny wasted cute shark print buttoned fly high waisty camel short. reminds me of that blondo in lords of dogtown.

granted, on a runway obviously, so she cant be blammed for her pirate-chic glam.

modern day super model? up and coming kate moss? the newest twiggy?

or a soon to be deadbeat pride attender singing female masturbation songs while pushing 60. same difference no?

her being dressed in a patented-shoulder-padded-barbie-pink blazer reminds me of that special time in a young girls life where she decides that barbie needs a new hairdo. anyone with barbies however soon realises but never really gives up on changing barbie from her intended theme. tried to change barbies hair? never worked. whether combed, nor cut, barbie is one stubborn cunt, and no matter how many artifacts you piece together from various barbies, the new mashed up look never looks good, and never compliments your barbies newly dyked 'do. please purchase whole new outfit with non fitting shoes for 19.99. thanks mattel.

we get it , you're quirky. WHAT AN INDIVIDUAL. the red really brings out, your complete utter lack of pigment.

this doesn't even look that great

this only proves that once a babe, a babe in anything. from hot couture, to hipster trends, or your grannie's panties stretched into a doily dress. WHY NOT
looks like a dickie is trying to kill you agness, watch your back.

"oh gosh im so shocked you got me in my rushian babushka doll traditional african warrior chainmail casual seawear outfit...do you think the hat is too much? does it clash with my betty page face? no? the orange bedazzling wasnt too much? good. maybe i'll wear more neon doilies next time."

hold on there hotty hotty hot pants, theres enough teal spandex here to house an african tribe.

people rave about her bringing back a punky edge to fashion, cute is cute is cute. she could chose any identity and work it. what about this beach bum tan, sew cute. i don't think they sell up teh punx for 400minutes at 60$

i could dress her flippant do and fresh face up in a bag of flaming turds and people would still squeal what a fashion forward muse she is.

if i was in heaven, my skin would look like this.


i've been slacking on the blogs. alas, there's a serious down in my life about to be overcome with the confirmation that within the past week, the 80 degree range of motion of my knee has increased to 130 degrees. stellar. i still have not enough muscle to master stairs, but ......................... i don't know; im a horrible optimist.

thankfully for the purpose of this blog, hating has been increased in my life due to some very tactless and inconsiderate people. there's some rough drafts being cooked up of some large beefy topics like dead people, lady gaga, 80s videos and agness deyn.


the jobhunt is on,

and im gonna slay this bitch.


thanks pepin.

thanks to my packin' friend pepin, i can't stop keeping up with cake wrecks;


whether you like it or not oprah,
im sure the cupcake in the top right corner will be more delicious than your fat ass taking back your juicy review on a book that tricked you.

that's what i thought.

i think the latest couple makes lying look fun.
best sunday evening ever.

sup. unfortunately you can barely tell the immaculate detail on the yellow bikini done in marigold, and unfortunately some irresponsible douchebag running artshows in ottawa sold this for 20$ without consulting me.

i should probably start painting again. i really like doing intricately mundane details on shit like that. i should probably get a small child fence to block my kittens off from my room so i can actually paint without them swatting at me, and without the other biting then running off with any of my tools.

it's that time of the month again....

where a new neighbour moves in, not my monthly discharge of blood from the lining of the uterus. WOMBALICIOUS !!!!

so far from a second-story window-spying he looks like bert from the used.

bert > people with babies