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Monday, 10 December 2012

'Twas the Night Before Christmas... fucktard version

'Twas the night before Christmas, and I hid in the kitchen.
Slowly going insane, barely refraining from bitchin'.
Most of the gifts were stuffed into bags without care,
In hopes that I would stop ripping out my hair.

The children were sprawled on the floor, crashing hard
From a sugar high supplied by their Dad, the fucktard.
The cat's up the tree, the dog's eating a shoe...
A blunt must be rolled, without further ado!

When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I dragged my ass to the window to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I dragged ass like the dead,
Tore open the curtains, and stuck out my head.

The neighbour's lights on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the colors of vomit to the objects below,
When, what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a broke down old sleigh, and eight crackhead reindeer,

With a fat fuck old driver, stumbling and drunk,
With a bottle of Jack and a bag of good skunk.
Hopped up on the pipe, his frightening deer they came,
He wet himself, and shouted, and called them by name;

To the top of the porch! to the top of the walls!
A rock for the bitch that tugs on my balls!"

As dry heaves that after the wild rez party do fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the fuckers they flew,
With the sleigh full of weed, and that fat, pissy fuck too.  
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The scratching and clawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Fat Fuck came with a bound.

He was dressed in polyester, from his head to his toes,
And he reeked of good weed, liquor, and hoes;
A bag of that weed he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pimp as he adjusted his sack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his tattoos -- how thug!
I stood there, praying he wouldn't piss on my rug.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his pit stains the color of old, peed-on snow;

He staggered and gagged as he adjusted his hood,
And I thought for sure, this time I'll be locked up for good.
I can't be seeing this, it's not real, I must be asleep!
But why would I dream of this fat, pissy creep?

He was there, he was real, that smelly old fuck,
And I thought when I saw him, "this is just my luck";
With a wink of his eye, he pointed to the bag at his right.
And he asked if he could bum a paper and light.

He spoke not another word, but rolled up a blunt.
He passed it my way. Maybe he's not such a cunt.
He didn't stay long when we finished our toke,
And left me there, buzzed, in a big cloud of smoke.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave some rock,
And away they all flew like hoes after the cock.
But I heard him exclaim, as he cracked the whip at Cocksucker,

Thursday, 25 October 2012

omg fb

i am in an abusive relationship... with facebook. it sucks (especially lately), but i can't imagine life without it. it shows me shit that makes me want to rip out my hair and set my face on fire, BUT I KEEP LOGGING IN. it became the way that i "met" some of the coolest people i've ever known, and we have had some fucking hallmark card moments... and some WTF moments too. this fucked up site has had me laughing silently, machine gun farting, and gasping for air while trying not to wake up the whole damn house... then in the midst of all these warm and gooey feeling and gut busting laughs, BAM!! i make the mistake of going to my newsfeed, and i see all this fucktarded shit that makes me want to nuke the whole goddamned planet. people are lucky i'm not in a position of power.

another thing i've noticed about fuckbook is that all this stupid shit that i'm sick of seeing is being done by the same types of silly little twats that also do a fuck ton of shit i LOVE seeing on the book of face. it's not enough to redeem their fucktarded online antics, but it is enough to stop me from deleting their dumb asses.

first of all.... what in the fuck is with all these goddamned NAIL PICS?! have they hit your newsfeed yet? some silly twat with eleventy bajillion different pics of her hands clutching a nail polish bottle or simply curled into a semi fist that makes me think "oh, nice. dead hooker hand." 
i don't know about you, but the bitches that do this shit around here all seem to fall into the same category: vacant eyed, zombified little assholes. it's all those fucking fumes, i tell ya. and no. i'm not bitter about the fact that i have no goddamned free time to myself, and even if i do i'm too tired to even think about my appearance, let alone those funny, ragged little things on the ends of my fingers and toes. nope. no bitterness here. FUCK.

the same type of bitch who does the 'dead hooker hand' pose to showcase her skill with glitter and nail art will usually have eleventy bajillion profile pics as well. bathroom pics, 'no make-up but idgaf cause i hot' pics, snarling trying to look bad ass pics, staring out the window on a rainy day trying to look serious pics... and if you 'like' or compliment them, they get all weird and say they're ugly so you'll tell them they're pretty AGAIN. next time, ima be all, "heyyy!!! that's a gorgeous bathroom fixture, bitch? you shop at home hardware? omg!!" 
or maybe they change their profile pics 54 times a day, and usually when the pic is posted, it is accompanied by some kind of inspirational quote or music lyric. you're not fooling anyone, bitch. you got that shit from google. 

oh, and let's not forget about the infamous 50 shades of shit or meth head mike... or whatever the fuck bitches are losing their shit over these days. sadly, posts of these nature aren't limited to the silly twats. several of my friends, and even family have fallen victim to the hype. of course that really shouldn't be that bad, right? to each their own, and all that shit, right? WRONG. try having to see your beloved 50-something auntie's posts about what she THINKS and what she'd like TO DO to christian gray. then go to a family function with her and hear about it some more, with several graphic gestures to emphasize the depth of her feelings. and people wonder why i stay the fuck home.

whew. after all this hating, you're probably wondering just why the fuck i even bother going on facebook, or why the fuck i don't just click 'unfriend' on the silly twats of the internet and stick to only friending the people i genuinely like interacting with. 

see, the thing is... these little fucktards with tits that make me go, "whore, no one cares, clean your bathroom, eat a dick, etc" while scrolling through my newsfeed actually DO have a use. it is a theory of mine that the amount of useless, annoying, and downright pointless shit that a fucktard will post on their fb page on a given day is directly proportional to the amount of priceless entertainment that they will provide with stupid questions, keyboard warrior fighting, and spelling/grammar mistakes. 

is it sad that the annoyance and mental anguish i suffer after a week's worth of compliment-fishing and dead hooker hand poses is forgotten as soon as i see bitches drunk facebook fighting on a weekend? probably. do i give a fuck? nope. because really, what would facebook be without fucktards? 

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

shit i don't get, volume 1

there's a lot of shit about relationships i don't understand. fuck tons of shit. METRIC fuck tons. things like: why are men such whiny, crybaby, selfish assheads? why do they piss on the floor when they have an organ with which they have had their WHOLE GODDAMNED LIFE to perfect their aim? why am i such a bitch? what in the sweet flying fuck is so bad about going to the store for tampons? it can't be as bad as letting wifey out into PUBLIC braless and wearing her period pants, can it? what if she kills some dumb fuck who dares get between her and the midol and/or chocolate display? that's all on YOU, bro.

as you could see, i could probably go on for MONTHS about the shit i don't get about men and women and the shit they do when they decide to shackle themselves to each other and bang sometimes. but for the sake of this post, i'll stick with one thing: SHARING A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT. 

a lot of couples i know do the 'what's mine is yours' thing. you know, they share shit. shit like responsibilities, kids, money... but a FB account? and THAT totally fucks with my head. imagine trying to pm a BFF, knowing that her current house-penis could read that shit too. you don't really want him to know about your new spanx that you got half price, or the hilariously embarrassing sex queef story of '09... well not if you want to be able to make eye contact with him.

what about a guy friend or a male relative? all of a sudden, some chick has them pussy whipped to the point they start sharing a FB account. so when you go to message him with something like, "hey fuckhead, come over and smoke some weed and watch the game!!! bring some beer, asshole!! :)"..... only to be bombarded 34 seconds later by, "omg, who is this? what do you want? why are you swearing at my bf???" and then of course, you have to explain to the bitch how, 24 years ago, your mother's sister got married to fuckhead sr., they did the nasty and had a baby named fuckhead jr.... and that made you cousins and NO BITCH I DON'T WANT TO BANG YOUR MAN, CALM YOUR TITS. of course, you can't really say  it like THAT, because then he won't be allowed out to play with his friends anymore... know what i mean?

so, why? is it because they are so fucking edward and bella in love that they have to stay glued at the fucking hip, shoulder, AND head.. even in cyberspace? is it because one or both doesn't trust the other and wants to keep an eye on the other's online activity? or is it just a new way of bonding? ehh, i don't fucking know. but i'll tell you one thing. it's not near as bad as those sick fucks in the fifty shades of shit book that shared a toothbrush. fucking GAG!! excuse me while i reinsert my intestines...

of course, as with anything, it does work for some people. especially older couples. that shit is fucking cute. every time i see an old couple discover the book of face and make an account with both of their sweet little names on it, and some wedding pic as their profile pic... FUCK. that shit gets more "SQUEEEE!!!" out of me than all of the cats on the internet. no lie.

i think my head just exploded <3

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

your vagina is gangsta

a couple weeks ago, some friends and i were exchanging birth stories and whatnot. you know how it is: someone mentions pregnancy and/or labor and delivery, and EVERY chick in the place has a horror story. making babies is fucking HARD! 

anywho, i ended one comment with the phrase "my vagina is gangsta". it was hilarious at the time, but totally true. and you know what? if you have a vagina, it's not just a VAgina. that fucker is a THUG-gina. wanna know why? i'll fucking tell you.
above is a definition of thug from except where they were saying "...a hick can be a thug, a prep can be a thug, an old ass man can be a thug".. well, they forgot to mention that A VAGINA CAN BE A THUG. 

fucking think about. most vaginas don't wear bling, and if they do it's obviously been done against their will. they have no voice other than the queef with which to speak against these injustices. have you ever done what a queef told you to do? wait.. fuck. never mind that. if you EVER hear voices from your vagina, you're in the wrong place. gtfo. call your obgyn or the vatican.  moving on...

vaginas have a rough life. they bleed, they take a pounding, they get fucking DEMOLISHED by childbirth. but you know what? you treat that vagina good, and it will treat YOU good. it does what's right. and by that i mean healing up so that sex doesn't feel like fucking a bowl of jello for your guy, and sometimes even popping out  more little humans. 

this is why i believe that the vagina is BY FAR the most bad ass motherfucker of a creation on this earth. YOUR vagina is gangsta. MY vagina is gangsta. old auntie edith's vagina is gangsta. got it? no? well fuck. time for a list to drive this shit into your head. 

our vaginas are gangsta because:

1. to quote dr. lisa from "the doctors", they are "self cleaning ovens". that's right, they clean their own damn selves!! 
2. they can make you feel DAMN good when treated right! now now.. stop with that blushing and shit. you know it's true. 
3. they can take a pounding like no other organ of the human body... and like it. enough said.
4. you use it to give birth to little people. that little hole can be stretched right the fuck out to accommodate a fucking KID... and if you do your kegels and shit, you won't lose any muscle tone down there. word. hell, after popping two 10lb hellions out of my twat, BF still marvels at how tight it is. TMI? well fuck off. shoulda known this shit was comin' when you read the title, bitch. 
5. have you ever seen the lengths that a man will go to get a piece of that? they fucking love it. pussy has the power to get even the biggest, baddest man to STFU and do your bidding, if you know how to use it right.

i really don't think i can emphasize this any more than i already have. open those legs and take a peek at that sweet little snatch of yours. you OWE YOUR LIFE to another like it, and most of you can create life WITH IT. and even though that fucker might bleed for a week or so every month, it more than makes up for that shit by making you feel so damn GOOD when you (or your significant other) touches it just right. add to that the fact that menstruation should actually be blamed on that motherfucking, hatin' ass uterus. 

bottom line: treat that THUG-gina good, it will treat you good. do those kegels, buy some cotton underwear so that poor fucker can breathe. better yet, go commando sometimes. don't be letting any old tom, DICK, or harry just come poking away at it. use some fucking protection. keep that baby clean and groomed all pretty. seriously, how would you feel if you were left unprotected and diseased, to stew in your own juices and hair, wrapped in polyester and leather?? you know what happens when you fuck around with a thug? a thug will fuck around with YOU. and a THUG-gina is no different. so unless you wanna walk around with a flaming toxic crotch, take care of that shit. 

now if you'll excuse me, i have a date with my favorite fucking gangsta in the whole world..

Friday, 20 April 2012

the biggest pet peeve of all

depending on how long you've been following this little collection of mental flatulence {i.e. brain farts}, you may or may not be familiar with a blog entitled "pet peeves" that i wrote awhile back. well today, i have added yet another item to that list of stupid, unnecessary bullshit that makes volcanic ash come billowing from my motherfucking ears. this time, it's is a little more serious.. i'd advise you to either put on a helmet or wrap your head in something soft at this time, as this is some stupid fucking shit that should NOT be happening in this day and age. ready? here we go...

really?? like fucking REALLY?? ok, ok.. i AM a smoker, and sometimes {depending on the time of the month} i smoke like a motherfucking chimney. but i'm an adult, and it is my choice to set fire to a little bundle of tobacco and inhale the carcinogenic smoke into my lungs, several fucking times a day. so no hatin' at all is directed at people who choose to do so as well. we know the consequences and shit. BUT here's the thing: while i will knowingly suck carcinogens into my body to fuel this sick addiction, never UNDER ANY MOTHERFUCKING CIRCUMSTANCES am i going to allow that same shit around my children. they have the RIGHT to clean air that is safe to breathe. therefore, when i want a fucking smoke, i GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE. i don't give a single sweet flying fuck if it's cold, wet, or the four horsemen of the motherfucking apocalypse are riding through the rez.. out the door i go.

so you can imagine my absolute fucking SHOCK and ANGER when i see poor little kids strapped into their fucking car seats {safety first motherfucker! smh}, while their parent(s) sit with them in the car puffing away and justifying their actions by saying, "oh look, it's all going out the window!!" NO MOTHERFUCKER, IT IS NOT. 

then there's the fuckwits who seemingly could care less, and just smoke their brains out in the house, as if there were no children present. the house reeks of smoke, there's ashtrays overflowing with butts {and don't those look absolutely WONDERFUL to find a toddler sucking on?}, and the poor kid usually has a constant wheeze/cough, and is always getting ear infections and shit. dirty, selfish, fucking IMBECILES. 

yes, this is a sore subject for me because *i* grew up in a smoking home. back then, it wasn't unheard of for parents to continue to smoke indoors after their bundles of joy were brought home {often from a smoky hospital}. hell, my earliest memories are being at the dinner table trying to wave away the smoke from a cigarette smouldering in the ashtray 2 fucking inches away from my SUPPER! i was fucking 5. it was not FUN. so do me a favor. next time you see some fuckwit nonchalantly puffing away on a cig {and maybe even saying "oh no, don't go outside. we smoke indoors here, it's cool"}, give them a fucking piece of your mind. seriously. this shit is CHILD ABUSE.

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

kitchen Q&A

Q. what's with the name? all i see is an assortment of fuck rants and random shit. do you even cook? do you have recipes to share?

A. the name fits. i spend 95% of my life in this damn kitchen {ranting, raving, hunched over the laptop like an underfed orangutan.. wtf? i don't fucking know}. but yeah, this is where i am nearly ALL THE TIME. eating, cooking, cleaning, even working out!! it's also where the laptop usually is!
and yes, i do cook. i would even say that i am pretty fucking good at it. i can't exactly share any recipes though, because i don't have any. basically i throw shit together based on past experiences and what i remember from cooking shows that i'm obsessed with, then bake, broil, fry, or sauté that shit. it usually turns out awesome, sometimes just "meh", and i can count on my fingers how many times i've actually had a kitchen fail. another thing: i am the MASTER of hiding healthy shit in food. the kids don't even know it, but they eat a lot of flax seeds, quinoa, spinach, wheat germ, and all that good stuff at nearly every meal.

Q. why do you swear so much?

A. a lot of people who read this blog or follow me on facebook must think i'm a nasty, potty mouthed bitch, but to be honest, the worst word that i actually say out loud here is "frig". then of course, all of these swear words and frustrations get bottled up inside and batter my brain while i'm busy trying to be supermom {or just trying to survive til 8pm}. solution: swear on the fucking internet. it's therapeutic as fuck, and allows me to take something that pisses me right the fuck off and that has potential to drive me totally batshit insane {as opposed to my current level of 45.754% batshit insane} and turn it into something that i can later piss myself laughing over. it's cheaper than therapy, yo.

Q. you're ALWAYS bitching. is your life really THAT bad?

life is actually pretty good. but i have a bad temper AND a way with words {particularly those of the vulgar persuasion}, and it's better for me to vent here while trying to make all of this stupid shit that pisses me off seem funny {even if only to me} than to freak the fuck out at home. this blog is the reason why you haven't read a news story about a crazy Canadian woman who was finally driven insane to the point of ripping her hair out and running down the street buck naked by the millionth puddle of piss she stepped in beside the toilet or the toothpaste splatters all over the bathroom mirror. 

Q. fave song?

A. wow, that was random.. and not an easy one to answer. i can't just pick ONE song, it really depends on my current mood swing mood. hmmm..

that's the best i could do to narrow it down.. but it changes almost daily. those are my current faves by mood. and yes, i have listened to them ALL today, while feeling ALL of those moods. yeah, i'm a freak. you know you love it.

Q. what is the best thing a guy can do for his gf/wife?

A. WTF man?! do i look like dr. phil or some shit? *le sigh* well since you asked... i actually have a few tidbits of knowledge to pass on to any men out there. i couldn't narrow it down to just one though. 
forget the flowers and shit. seriously, they can just be used as projectiles to be hurled at your fucking face the next time you piss her off. take the kids {if you have kids}, and GTFO. give her an ENTIRE day off, away from you needy fuckers {preferably in a clean house that anyone but HER has cleaned!}. let her sleep in without any interruptions for once. make her feel beautiful, every fucking day. appreciate her!! it ain't easy taking care of the house, kids, pets, AND your stinkin' ass every goddamned day while looking as scrumptious as she does! {word of caution: don't lay it on too thick, a little at a time! you don't want to spook her and make her think you've done something terrible like lost the farm on a cockfight}

Q. what's the worst thing a guy can do to his gf/wife?

A. oh fuck me. yeah, i could go on for AEONS about awful things that men do that they shouldn't. but i won't, for fear of breaking the whole damned internet with information overload. i did write a few totally readable blogs on the subject, entitled "for the men-folk", "pet peeves", and  "HEY GUYS! wanna get laid tonight?" i strongly encourage you to read those if you have any concerns about how to deal with your little slutmuffin. but to answer this question, i'd have to say that one of the WORST things you can do to your gf/wife is to NOT LISTEN. there's next to nothing that will get her into the grannie panties and anti-penetration pants faster than the sight of you zoning out on the tv, computer, or even just off into space when she is talking. for fuck sakes, can't you at least TRY to absorb even a bit of the likely CRUCIAL knowledge that she is imparting on you? fuck.

Q. what is the best thing a guy has done for you, personally?

A. the best thing a man has done for me personally is to give me three of the most beautiful, funny, and infuriatingly hilarious little bastards {literally.. they are bastards lol} on the face of the earth. as corny as it sounds, they truly are my greatest achievement.. and i couldn't have done it without BF and his manly fluids.

Q. how about the worst/weirdest thing a guy has ever done to you personally?

A. ehhh.. tough one. i can't tell you the worst, because it would suck the funny right the fuck out of this post. hmmm.... i CAN do weird though. how about the time this star wars geek i dated professed his UNDYING love for me by writing a barely legible, senseless fucking POEM for me.. in my fucking DIARY, which, up to that point, i had NO IDEA he even knew about? as if that wasn't fucked up enough, this was after a mere MONTH of knowing each other. i let that slide {he was super cute}, since i figured it was just my fine ass booty and skills that had him all fucked in the head, and that once he grew accustomed to having quality sexy time on the regular, he would chill the fuck out with all of his soulmate, "love, endless like a river" {LO-MOTHERFUCKING-L!!} bullshit. NOPE. it got worse. evey fucking time we were together- alone, in public, with friends, EVERYWHERE-he started constantly staring at me. CONSTANTLY. my girlfriends and i noticed and were creeped the fuck out, so we called him out on it. his reply? "she's just so beautiful. i love her" in a disturbingly worshipful tone that made it sound like he had been brainwashed or some shit. needless to say, he didn't last too long. weird enough for ya?

Q. last question. what is the best thing about being a mother?

A. there a a lot of shitty things about motherhood, like: never-ending messes, dirty diapers, lack of sleep, back-talking, teething, potty training... it just goes on and on and on and.. fuck. i need a drink. whew.
anyway.. all this shit is going down and it sucks. but THEN your toddler {who up to that point, you could have sworn HATED you} gives you a sweet smile or random kiss, the 5 year old tells you he has the prettiest mommy ever {without even asking for something afterwards}, or the usually snarky 3rd grader asks to be taught to make coffee so that he can bring it to you in the morning.. they might be different for a lot of moms, but it is these little moments that truly are the best part of being a mommy, and they help you see that maybe, just maybe, you're not totally fucking these kids up. you bask in the warmth of all these squishy, lovey dovey feelings, and all is right in the world... then BAM!! CRASH!! BANG!!! they are back to trying to kill eachother, and the moment is gone. but hey, it was totally worth it.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

HEY GUYS! wanna get laid tonight?

if wifey looks like this, chances are,
you are NOT getting any pussy tonight. 
i'm just a little fucking angry today, and i choose to channel that anger towards writing some really fucking useful shit. you know, because if i wasn't pounding away at this fucking keyboard, i'd be pounding the fucking roses {thorns first, of course} right into the asshole {or urethra.. my ovaries haven't decided yet just how mad i should be} of the man who lives with me that i fuck occasionally. i'll spare you the details because i fear that if i even attempt to regurgitate even one incidence out of the many incidences of douchebaggery that i was exposed to today, i might just fucking explode. and who the fuck would clean my entrails and smoking, splattered remains from the walls, floors, and ceiling? that's right. NO FUCKING ONE. 

what i will say is this: i am on the fucking rag and mood swingy enough that anyone with common sense who has been around me for even 25 seconds today should be able to see the big flashing "DON'T FUCK WITH ME TODAY" sign above my head. ok, so i don't actually have one, but fuck, i think i should. anyway..

you wanna get laid tonight? maybe you bought some shit for that special chick that you bang on the regular. or maybe you want to skip the tuesday night tv and are hoping those dinner reservations and all that other shit will get you into wifey's panties. OR maybe you just want to sit back with some porn and lotion and just fucking POUND your good 'ole winky half to death.  if you're doing the latter, this post is not for you. feel free to continue reading, but know this: i am mentally sending out cosmic deathrays {i don't know wtf i'm talking about} over the internet because i fucking hate you for being single. you lucky bastard. fuck off. 

ok. whew. sorry. too much anger and caffeine running through me at the moment.

anywhooo.... you wanna get laid right? and sometimes it is hard to fit in the sexy time with work, kids, dogs, cats, fucking APHIDS.. or whatever the fuck it is that you do that keeps you from busting the goddamned bed frame. so you think, "hey, motherfuckers! it's valentine's day! i'll get that bitch some {insert whatever the fuck she likes that you can afford here}, spout off some mushy shit i seen on twilight or found on the internet, and we will fuck 'til we scream {or 'til we get out of breath and light-headed because we haven't done so good on the new year's resolution of getting in shape}." 
well, that's a nice thought and all... but fucking GUESS WHAT?! 

1. flowers, candy, and jewellry {well, i could be wrong with the jewellry} are nice and shit.. BUT they do not have the power to erase from her mind what an inconsiderate, snivelling little cunt you've been yesterday or last week. AND those little tokens of your desire to continue having your dick sucked on the regular {because that is what it really boils down to, right?} do not mean that you will be automatically excused from, or suffer milder consequences from any future acts of asshattery. basically, if you're a dick, fucking STOP IT. 

2. women want to get laid too. BUT if you have kids, animals, or aphids {wtf?!} that need to go to school or even {gasp!!} be fed and cleaned up after, and you just hand her the roses or whatever other bullshit you hustled up for today before plopping your ass down and being the same old lazy cunt that you've been for the past 364 days, she's gonna be too fucking tired, annoyed, and downright disgusted with your pathetic ass to even blow a kiss at you, let alone suck your dick til you scream like the little bitch you are. you know what's sexy and that drops panties more effectively than any fucking bundle of dying vegetation, fattening candy, or going to eat in some pretentious shithole that she's really not in the mood for squeezing into nice clothes for? a fucking man that's secure enough in his own manhood to pick up a fucking broom, wipe some toddler snot, and maybe even fucking offer to make her something to eat! it doesn't even matter if you suck at those things {well, except for the snot wiping. how can you fuck that up, even if you are just a man? seriously}, at least fucking TRY. and don't just fucking do it today. PLEASE make an effort to be less of a useless bag of flesh on other days besides this one. it will be worth it, i promise. 
yeah we're bitches, and maybe even psychotic cunts sometimes.. but if you just TRY to not be a lazy fuckbag, she might just notice that shit. maybe, just maybe, she might decide against those anti-penetration sweatpants, and choose instead some sexy lingerie. 

now, lazy assholes of the internets, GTFO. did you honestly think i was going to give you a butt load of tips and tricks for getting into some panties tonight? HA! see, you're being fucking lazy again. fuck off with that. seriously. what i've given you here is the basics. i don't think you will have a very hard time figuring out other ways to not be a dick... and if you do, well FUCK. maybe you should have just stuck with the trusty jergens and porn. just sayin'

Saturday, 4 February 2012

kitchen bitch has a chat with ~My Inner Child Is a Drunken Whore~

recently i had the opportunity to interview everyone's favorite drunken whore: the mad genius behind the fb page, as well as a spankin' new blog, known to many as ~My Inner Child Is a Drunken Whore~

now if you haven't checked out her page or blog, i strongly urge you to do so now, because it is the shit! click HERE, fuckers.

anywho.. on with the interview :)


r&r: well, hello Whore! um, i can call you that right?
Whore: of course you can, everyone else does.

r&r: first things first.. are you watching the Superbowl? Who ya rootin' for?
Whore: yes i'm watching the game, and i'm voting for the PATRIOTS... mainly because i'd like to spank Tom brady's ass with a raw chicken.

{i heave a MASSIVE fucking sigh of relief that i'm not stuck interviewing one of those football hatin' bitches in need of a cunt punt}

r&r: you have a thing for raw chicken? or is it just that Tom Brady makes you crazy? {fucker makes me crazy too.. YUM}
Whore: meebee a leetle of both *wink wink*

{i find myself both afraid and weirdly excited}

r&r: you have a totally kick ass fb page, and more recently, a blog. when did you start, and why?
Whore: the page i started november 19, 2011 and the blog a couple weeks ago. as for why, most of my facebook friends are boring as fuck, and it was suggested that i am a funny bitch.. so i said, "hey, why the fuck not?" and that's how my baby was created.

r&r: thank fuck for boring facebook friends!! i don't know what i'd do without my favorite whore!!
what would you say is the best part of being a kick ass, sexxxy fb page admin?
Whore: rawrr... you think i'm sexy? you should say that again, but with your pants off ;)

r&r: o.O {demurely flashing a bit of leg}
*ahem* well, back to the subject at hand.. what is the worst thing about being a page admin?
Whore: trying to keep up with it between work and family. 

r&r: well, i think you're doing great! any troll horror stories you'd like to share?
Whore: i have this one particular horror story, but it would take too long and you know about it anyway. it's more of a TROLL HUNTER story though.
{i nod knowingly and shudder at the shared memory}

r&r: you are a drunken whore. what is your drink of choice?
Whore: drink of choice is nuvo (the pink kind)

r&r: wtf is in that flask? can i have some??
Whore: {giggling} i have roofie-laced nyquil and yes you can have some, BUT i will take advantage of you.. just a warning :)
{i think, "ehhh, what the hell?" and take a swig of the flask}

r&r: craziest thing you've drunk?
Whore: four loko---that shit is INSANE!
{alcohol AND caffeine? i think i love this bitch!!}

r&r: fuck, marry or kill-justin bieber, tom brady, prince?
Whore: FUCK tom brady, KILL justin bieber, MARRY prince
{yep, i love this fuckin bitch!}

r&r: do you have anything to say to any aspiring drunken whores out there?
Whore: just that they better stop aspiring, because i'm the only drunken whore around!

r&r: {throwing papers in the air} well, that's about all i got. wanna go get drunk and dirty?
Whore: take another sip of my flask and we'll see what happens ;)



Friday, 3 February 2012

on bieber fever, twitches, and shitty music

what in the sweet FUCK is with tween bitches {from here on in, i will refer to them as twitches} these days? i know, i know. that question is asked by every generation of adults regarding the kids of the day. but really, WHAT THE FUCK?
you guessed it. the subject of my puzzlement and hatred is justin fucking bieber, who has been whipping twitches {and sometimes even their mothers} into screaming, crying, fucking psychotic frenzies. and over what? a little asshole whose balls {if s/he has 'em} haven't yet made the journey out of his/her abdominal cavity. 

*sighs* i remember pop music back in my day, when i was a stupid little twitch. and it is those memories that make me wish that justin timberlake would take a fucking break from the movies and come back to music to show the little twitches of today what shitty pop music REALLY is. come back, JT!! come back with a record-breaking, sickeningly sappy-sweet hit single filled with subtle innuendos that not even adults can decipher, enough moonwalking, gyrating moves to drive them wild but not enough to creep out the parents, and, FOR FUCK SAKES, includes you dancing shirtless in the rain for no apparent reason. crush this little pissant under your heel, and bring back shitty music in its pure, natural form!!!

ok, so before i get too wound up, let me make something clear. as a twitch, i was a DIEHARD backstreet boys fan, and felt not much more than resentment and distaste for 'n sync as they outshined and eventually demolished the subjects of my many fantasy weddings. but for the purpose of this blog, i am beseeching JT to return only because i don't know what the fuck happened to the BSB. one is/was in rehab.. i don't fucking know. the point is, they obviously can't change the minds of today's twitches any more than i can wear a fucking string bikini with confidence.  

i will now show you, dear readers, how JT {as he was in 'n sync's heyday, before the solo career} could make all of today's twitches forget about that cute little antichrist known as JB.

twitches from any generation are assholes. which is why i believe that things were better {and safer for delicate egos} in my day. you see, back then, we had something called BOY BANDS. nowadays, twitches are divided into two camps, pro-bieber and bieber haters; bitterly glaring, whispering and pointing at each other from opposite ends of the cafeteria. either you like him, or you get pecked to death by the scores of junior hens that do {do little girls still pull that shit?}. 
with boy bands, you had 3-5 boys to choose from, with 4763492 DIFFERENT fucking boy bands to choose them from. something for every-fucking-one. obviously, i am an advocate for the return of boy bands. and who was the hottest, most screamed, cried, and mooned over boy band frontman EVER? justin motherfuckin' timberlake!

another point to consider is age. when JT first made it big, he was 16. he had already gotten past the awkward voice changing and growth spurts. basically he was only going to get hotter. he was the perfect age for pre-teen AND teen crushes. old enough to be mysterious, but not old enough to be anyone's father {remember, this was before teen mom and all that bullshit}. another reason 90s twitches swooned over him, was that HE WAS NOT THEIR OWN FUCKING AGE, because everyone knows that male tweens are fucking ASSHOLES. their idea of trying to show affection to a girl is to torment them incessantly, shoot spitballs at the backs of their heads, and pull their fucking hair. well... maybe they aren't so far off with the hair pulling, since some women {like me!} do enjoy it during certain intimate occasions. perhaps it is an instinct of sorts, that goes back to the caveman days. in any case, i'd rather have JT pulling my hair in that context than... FUCK. never mind. forget those last few sentences. jesus christ. 

ANYWAY... moving the fuck on.. how old was JB when he "made it"? fucking 12 or 13. WHAT THE FUCK TWITCHES? did you not ever wonder then if he would suddenly undergo a catastrophic voice change, growth spurt, or acne explosion? granted, he seems to have survived to the ripe old age of 17 without any of these career-ending  physical changes, he had NO BUSINESS trying to break into the entertainment world when that shit was a possibility. anyone remember aaron carter? HA! didn't think so.

despite all of the awkward physical changes that DIDN'T happen, it is rather nice fodder for daydreams. i often giggle to myself at the mental image of a stringbean-esque, pizza-faced JB with a voice that alternates between chipmunk and lifetime crack smoker. 
and imagine the fucking gnashing of teeth and screaming in the streets if this shit WOULD HAVE happened to little JB!! fucking twitches would have brought civilization to its knees with that shit. 

moving on to looks. JB isn't ugly, he's actually a cute kid. and by cute i mean i'd ruffle his hair {oops how'd that gum get in my hand? darn. i guess you'll have to CUT THAT FUCKING MOP OFF!}, give him a cookie, and send him on his way. even back when i was a twitch, a boy so pretty that he could be considered a girl was questionable crush material.  i certainly wouldn't have had that kind of mug plastered all over my fucking walls, ceiling, and door. but JT? even though i am *not* a fan, i am not dead or blind. he was and still is fucking downright EDIBLE. he did have a baby face and pouty lips, but there was NO FUCKING WAY you'd mistake him for a chick. i knew he had sex appeal before i even knew what the fuck that was. 

i know this might not make a bit of difference. JB will more than likely continue to make shitty music and rake in billions of hard-earned money from frazzled parents who will do anything to get their little twitches to shut the fuck up.. but i have hope that someday, somehow JT will stumble upon this humble blog of mine and heed my pleas for help. it's not too late, JT! your star hasn't faded. your career has survived into your adulthood, and you're not merely famous due to drug addiction, multiple marriages, or drama whore-dom. while i am not normally a fan of your type of music, i have {and sometimes still do} jam to some of your tunes. quite frankly, despite my prior devotion to BSB, you have outshined them even in my current playlist. {fuck off right now! everyone has a guilty pleasure!}
and NOW you're in movies! SNL! you're actually funny and a decent actor! i'm sure all that is just fucking peachy for you, but the fact of the matter is that you are needed NOW back on the music scene! for the love of all that is shitty and gag-worthy in pop music, PLEASE knock this little puke into the abyss of has-been teen stars and shitty reality TV. i bet dr. drew is fucking SALIVATING at the chance to counsel this kid one day.  DO IT FOR THE CHILDREN! DO IT FOR THE FUCKING TWITCHES! i have a daughter, mr. timberlake. as do a lot of other parents. give them something, ANYTHING to drool over besides THIS

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

the dick punch: a comprehensive guide

in today's society, asshatery and dougebaggery have become rampant, as well as the problem of fucktarditis, which has reached PANDEMIC proportions. since the world health organization has ignored my repeated attempts to have these important mental health issues brought to the forefront and discussed on an international level, i have no choice but to take matters into my own hands. 

there is only ONE proper and humane way to deal with asshats, douchebags, and fucktards. you guessed it, my darling pupils: the DICK PUNCH.

PLEASE NOTE: for any asshats, douchebags, and fucktarditis carriers that are lacking a dick, the cunt punt is another approved means of helping them to see the error of their ways. we will explore this issue in a future post. 

in case there is any confusion as to what i mean, this is the definition of dick punch that i am referring to. NOT the placing of one's penis in someone's drink, OR the punching of someone with one's penis. interestly, these other definitions describe quite nicely situations that do, in my humble opinion, warrant a dick punch.

there are many, many different situations that call for a dick punch. so many, in fact, that there is no way that i can include them all. what i will tell you is this: any incidences of asshatery, douchbaggery, or fucktarditis are prime opportunities to punch the dick into oblivion. it is up to you, dear reader, to determine if, when, and at what angle the dick punch should be administered.

i bet all of the men-folk reading this {if any}, are cringing and cradling their beloved little friends in a protective fist and wondering, "just WHAT IN THE FUCK is wrong with this here kitchen bitch?!"
fear not, menfolk. the dick punch is not just for us ladies. i bet there are fucking SHITLOADS of dicks you'd like to pulverize under your fists. admit it. i know this because some of the information and educational diagrams i will use for this post were found in "The Alphabet of Manliness", under C for Cockpunch {awesome book by the way}. this proves beyond a reasonable doubt that there are, in fact, dicks out there that not only deserve to be punched, but that some all but fucking PLEAD for it.  

figure 1
i see that some of you are still looking skeptical. rest easy, my dick-loving friends. the dick punch is a natural, instinctive reaction to asshats that has been so unfortunately suppressed by the societal pressures of civilization. you know, all that there bullshit about manners and tact. but we need not bow down and live according to social norms!! the dick punch is NATURAL. the dick punch is PURE. the dick punch is RIGHT. why, you can even find it in nature!! {see figure 1} 

in closing, i had wished to give some instruction as to dick punch techniques. but i feel that would take up a lot of space, so what i will tell you instead is this: if you can throw a fucking punch, you can punch a fucking dick. practice, try different angles, develope your own personal style to add that extra bit of flair to make it a bit more memorable. might i suggest jazz hands immediately following administration of the dick punch? i have also provided the following visual aides for your benefit. please see below. and remember: ANYONE can punch a dick, but NOT every dick should be punched. 

source: the alphabet of manliness

also from the alphabet of manliness

Sunday, 29 January 2012

suck ass sunday

meh... so i missed my customary Sexy Saturday post. forgive me? i'll give you this as an apology:
you're welcome

the reason i missed it, is that i was hung THE FUCK over. see, i drink maybe once a month now {geez, YES I KNOW.. i really gotta settle down with my crazy ass}, and friday was one of those nights. and as a result of my pounding, about to explode brain, i postponed the customary morning-after "scroll of shame" until today. it's not as bad looking at all of the foolish, irrelevant, and downright WTF moments of online inebriation when the hangover is nothing but a memory.

anywho, because of my over-indulgence in the wine on friday night, i didn't so much as open the lid of my laptop on saturday. not that i had much feel-good, positive sexy saturday goodness to report..

so today shall be dubbed "SUCK ASS SUNDAY".

ok, i will admit that this entire week hasn't sucked ass. there were a few good things. but FUCK i'm mad NOW, and i don't want to be un-mad.. yet. 

1. BF is a dick face who was gone for 3 days without a single call, message, or ANYTHING. apparently he got picked up while on his way home for a weed possession charge. i really don't care if the fucking aliens came down from planet whateverthefuck to anal probe him and bring world peace from the info collected in his rectum. HE COULD HAVE AT LEAST TRIED IN SOME WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM to contact me. he's back now, and i am trying to restrain my spork hand from sporking his nutsack off and mounting it on my wall. the adult discussion will commence once the children are asleep. and by adult discussion i mean me TEARING him a BRAND-NEW shiny asshole. 

2. my cat is in heat and had a threesome {?} with my dogs. yeah, i know.. WTF?! and no, i am NOT going into an in-depth explanation on THAT. the fact that i had to type those words is enough of a reason for me to say FML as it is.

and there you have it. this sunday can suck my pretty little ass :)

Monday, 23 January 2012

turning a ho into a housewife

for the purpose of this blog, i will be using the following definition of ho from "a woman who uses her body...for material gain or to boost her own ego."

k, everyone all clear? alright, brace yourselves. i, the ranting kitchen bitch that you have come to know and love {i hope!}, was once a HO. while i never did straight out prostitution, i did bang a lot of guys. i'll explain why. 

you see, i used to be a fat girl. i was obese all through junior high. around the time i discovered weed and alcohol, i discovered anorexia as well.

of course, once the weight came off, i was suddenly visible to all the boys that had once ignored me. rather than enjoying this new attention, i was terrified. you see, despite my new figure, i was still that shy and insecure girl inside. as a result, i made a lot of bad choices. i didn't respect my own body, and would do ANYTHING to please ANY guy who so much as gave me the time of day. add in some substance abuse issues, and you can see that i was one motherfucker of a trainwreck.

fast forward 10 years. i am now a stay at home mom of 3 lovely children, and i have been with my darling {yet frequently infuriating} BF for 8 years. i am living proof that a ho can be a housewife.. a fucking damn good one too, if i may say so myself.

hey hey HEY! get the fuck back here and stop texting that skank!! i am NOT finished. 

FIRST OF ALL, not just ANY little slutmuffin that you pick up at the bar after she's finished blowing chunks on the dance floor can make this transformation. SECONDLY, not all chicks want settle down with one guy. some of my bitches just wanna have some fun. you know these chicks.. get in, get {me} off, get the FUCK out so i can watch my shows and fart whenever the fuck i want. last, but by no means least, not all of the undomesticated sex kittens out there are fucked in the head with issues like mine. some of them just like the cock, and lots of it. and there's nothing wrong with that. 

i guess what i'm trying to say is that there are perfectly valid reasons to be promiscuous, provided you respect yourself, be safe, and are doing it for YOUR pleasure. needless to say, i was doing it wrong. until BF came along, of course. following, you will find my theories on how he turned a ho {the kind that i was} into a housewife:

1. don't just fuck her, make love to her. {unless she's in the mood for a fuck}

2. help her see that her body is a beautiful thing, to be respected and worshipped for its power to give pleasure and life, not just a prop for the pleasure of others.

3. encourage her to voice her needs in bed, and make sure she has an orgasm first. some of us haven't discovered how much pleasure our bodies can bring us, after years of using it solely for the pleasure of others.