Rodzilla: Only Girl (Wearing Red Hair in 2010)

This is Barbado's most famous chiquita, Rihanna's latest video for her new single "Only Girl (In The World)". I have to say I think her hair is nice but I think it looks a bit too 90s Tyra Banks or whatever. Don't you also find that the song is a bit reminiscent of her smash-hit "Don't Stop The Music"?! Seems like she's re-visiting herself! Anyways, enjoy!

Rodzilla: So You Think You Can Fuck?

Oh Mijn God!!! Hilarious! So hum... you think you can fuck Matthew Rush, really?!

How hilarious is this shit? This has to be the funniest thing I've cum come up to on the web! It's pretty funny that they turned the very family-targeted show "So You Think You Can Dance" into this whole porn 3D experience with my all-time favourite, Matthew Rush! I have to confess you something here: when I was in secondary 4 (grade 10), I used to fantasize like hell about Matthew Rush! In fact, he was my idol and made me want to do porn lol! I actually had told one of my (only) friends at the time. His name was Zézé and he was such a creep. Anyway, even if Zézé was completely fucked up, he still managed to have more common sense than me regarding Falcon Studios' exclusive jock, Matthew Rush lol! Oh and last but not least, I have to tell you that when I was about to turn 16, my friend Zézé asked me what I wanted as a gift for my birthday and I replied: Matthew Rush's molded cock dildo lol!! He never gave it to me, to my great sadness.

Rodzilla: Swimming Tool

Lemme talk y'all into my new lifestyle: exercising and tonin' my muthafuckin' gaytto body.

That's right, y'all read well, I recently decided I was fed up of looking like a cheap crisp of simili-chicken. It's been years that I'm obsessed about fashion videos with toned and under-fed models rocking the runway. I figured out it was time for me to get a pâté just like them (though I will continue to eat, since bone-skinny men are not that hot).

Okay so having this problem of sweating like a whore in church the moment I wear anything broader than a 1cm² of fabric, I felt like exercising with clothes wasn't my thing. I don't want all my cute white t-shirts to become yellow and smelly, oh HELL NO. So I found out a cheap way (I'm VERY, VERY CHEAP) to do sports, tone and increase my sexiness and thus, my cardio without spending a buck: going to the municipal pool!!! Hurray for me, some dudes look gay and are eatable. I mean you must agree this is a good one:

-I don't have to spend a single buck on anything (it's free with the city pass)

-I get to hunt my next prey and have a preview of what's in it for me

-I get to sweat my life into the too-chlored water
-The only piece of cloth I need to wear is my micro-speedough (a neon-bright Punto Blanco one, bought in Cape Cunt, MA last summer).

So I'll be completely honest with you: it's not that much about doing sports, it's more about living my life as a pervert, showering with other boys and looking goddamn fine!  I highly recommand any lazyass like me to undertake a journey to the nearby swimming pool; it is defenitely worth it. Oh and if the pool has a sauna (or a dark steamed-room), things might get even hotter and wilder. Unlike what RuPaul would tell his Drag Race candidates, always FUCK IT UP!

P.S.: I would like to take this last sentence of my article to make you aknowledge the fact that Terrine hasn't written on the blog since a while, I guess she better keep up (and catch up) if she wants y'all to notice her existence on the blog...!!!

P.S.²: I didn't masturbate in the Stock's bathroom during Fabulous Andy's dirty session trust me; my kidneys were about to release the water blocked by the Hoover Dam!

Fabulous Andy: The Stock's Ugly Stock

Rodzilla, Terrine and I love to hang out in Montreal's Gay Village. Gorgeous guys make out together and they won't have a boner while dancing with you, except in some rare cases...

Wednesday is the ladies' night at the Stock Bar, usually a gay-friendly strip club. Rodzilla and I sat at a table where I drank beer and he drank water. In fact, he recently started drinking in Germany, where we had no choice but to gulp currywursts with Berliner beer. So the show started off well; nice-looking hunks would get undressed and make women scream with their everlasting erections. Some were obviously gay, others we weren't sure of. In any case, they had to strut their stuff in front of men during the rest of the week, so they must have had a certain interest in doing so.

I was a bit broke, so paying for a private dance was out of question. One of the dancers, however, kept poking me when he would pass by our table. I continued to ignore him. At one point, Rodzilla had to pee (or masturbate? I shall never know.), so he left me alone.

The poking dancer came back. I turned around, about to tell him I was not going to pay for a dance, when he asked me, "Is he your boyfriend?". I was shocked, so after blabbering that Rod was gay, he told me how pretty I was.

All I found to say is, "But, aren't you GAY? I mean, you work here!".

Apparently, he wasn't. When Rodzilla had finished peeing/masturbating, Pokie said he would strip down in a cabin for me... for free. Talkin' about a special treatment! So, I left Rod alone at the table and proceeded to the minuscule, crassy wooden cabin. Right away, he gave me an in-depth mouthwash with his tongue while getting undressed. Seeing him from that close, I realized that he was the worst dancer on stage and thought, "Damn girl, get outta here!".

He called a few times after that unfortunate cabin fun, but I never answered. Seriously, who would want to go out with a guy who not only is a nude dancer in the Village, but who's bad at it?

I mean, compared to him, Occupation Double's Jimmy is a living god.

Fabulous Andy: The Rapper-Manager Finding Your Lovin' Time

The employees of the restaurant where I work are either men who are very concerned with their appearance or completely disgusting. My fellow waiter friends always have 20 liters of gel in their hair. Hey, at least they smell nice. I would hate having to be served by a greasy-looking guy.

The other guys work in the kitchen or in the dishwasher. Because their environment is constantly humid, they sweat... but not in a I-just-worked-out-wanna-fuck? kinda way. They stink. Their new manager, Mr. J, however, always looks fine even though he yells constantly.

Honestly, I hated the dude when I started working there. He has a huge ghetto attitude, but he calms down as soon as you get to know him. On a Saturday night, we hung out at the bar. While I was gulping down a bright blue martini, his friend asked him to pick him up in downtown Montreal. He then asked me whether I would keep him company or not.

Was this planned already? I dunno, but I still went in his car.

He told me he was preparing a CD soon. When his friend was in the car with us, he made me listen one of their songs. Honestly not bad, but the girl singing the chorus had such an annoying voice. His friend seemed a bit insulted that I would DARE criticize his composition. Um, dude, I'm going to be a journalist. Of course I will criticize everything!

In that case, however, I should've been a good girl who would smile and nod to agree on the chorus' "profound meaning".

Our Big Mac Trio finally went to a bar downtown to drink some beer to then hit the dancefloor. As expected, Mr. J and I started making out. Then, something unexpected happened: I saw my ex-boyfriend's sister dancing right next to us! I had to tell her that I was finished with her brother before I could even dare to look ar her straight in the eyes. The poor girl thought I was cheating for a minute, there.

When the bar closed at 3 a.m., the Big Mac Trio had an additional french frie to the package. His friend had hooked up with a tall, skinny girl who had difficulty walking in heels. Creatively inspired by our greasiness, I guess, we went to "La Belle Province" to eat the recommended quantity of trans fat for the rest of the week. French-frie girl finally took off after almost getting into a fight with some be-yotch. The Trio went back to the South Shore.

After Mr. J dropped his friend off, we went back to his place to experience some "muy caliente" sexytime. After he detached my Elle Macpherson bra, he put a CD on...

The mere thought of listening to Drake's "Find Your Love" while fucking will forever haunt me.

Rodzilla: What Happens South of the St-Lawrence River...

Okay so this article is mainly about this blog’s lovely trio’s latest delirious night south of town...!!! I am posting this a bit late because guess what?! I’ve been busy mit Universität!

So as I was incredibly horny last Saturday, I invited Fabulous Andy, Terrine and one of my new University Jock buddies, St-Lawrence. We intended to have a great time with more outgoing and out-o’their-crazy-minds shiznits than the previous weekend where I had attempted to make a house party. As I was supposed to stay home afterwards (I was sleeping at home with Terrine), I decided I could drink as much as possible to celebrate my last free night before my parents’ homecoming the day after.

I started out pretty wildly; mixing bloody Caesar, white wine, rhum, vodka and some other shiz. With my burning desire to heat things up, I had the very bright idea to play some sort of truth or dare (without truth) with some sex shop-designed dices. We were also playing with a bottle!!! HAHAH how childish of us! Anyways, the thing is, when you’re too shy to make a move, you can always start playing with an empty bottle. It turned out we all made sexual things to one another. My new hunky friend St-Lawrence, who had, at that particular time, a girlfriend, seemed to be wanting to broaden his horizons. As I knew both Terrine and Fabulous Andy desperately needed a piece of ass, I tried my best to hook’em up altogether.

What’s funny is that what I had been wishing to do finally came true but I didn’t really like the feeling afterward. Can you believe Terrine, Fabulous Andy & St-Lawrence locked themselves in my bathroom to get laid?! I felt really Ensom (Danish for lonely) and had a very big hangover. I then proceeded to get some sleep in my younger brother’s bed (who was asleep) and woke him up during the process. He woke up and asked me some very obnoxious questions which I can’t even remember. He then woke me up after my mending 5-minute sleep and I got so pissed off that I took the closest pen and penetrated the bathroom’s door with it. I started yelling at my fellow shiggaz which were scantily clad and about to shed more clothes. I told them they had traumatized my brother (which wasn’t true at all since he’s the one pulling the weirdest shiz all the time).

The night ended up in confusion and a missed sex opportunity for St-Lawrence. As for Terrine and I, we had the worst sleep of our lives and I think I was still drunk 26 hours later when I picked my parents up at the airport.

Rodzilla: Best Interview Ever!

As I was surfing http://www.youtube.com/ the other day, I happened to find an incredibly meaningful interview: our two favourite crazy whores, Janice Dickinson and Chelsea Handler! Mon Dieu! Can you believe the two best alive authors have met each other! I guess this is the first time it happens since Verlaine hooked up with Rimbaud!!!

Rodzilla: Blond Crush

OMFG!!! For you out there who have never watched 90210 (me included), I oughta tell y'all that the hunky und sehr sexy Trevor Donovan is scheduled to make his coming out in the program! Of course, this means his "Teddy" character will cum out, not him! But who knows, this might just be the beginning of gay fantasies for M. Donovan. So if you feel like watching the show will be boring (they're up to Season 3) but want to see this german sheppard hook up with some other tasty jocks, log on to http://www.megavideo.com/ and watch the episodes where he is supposed to have gay-meets! If you want my advice, go on http://www.wikipedia.org/ to read about each episode to make sure you only watch the ones where he'll hook up; you wouldn't want to bore the shit outta yoself watching some teenage drama à la AnnaLynne McCord! I wish you plenty of visual effects and drooling. I'll end up once again with beauty by posting "une photo délicieuse" of M. Don-Oh-van:

Terrine: I'm Not That Boring U Cunt!

My message has one and only goal... which is to prove to Rodzilla that I'm not that boring!

By the way, I had 6 one night stands too Rodzilla! And I had a few two or three night-stands too. So maybe you should take back what you said in your previous message!!!

And to prove you that I 'm not boring, I am going to tell you a story that I NEVER told you...

Once upon a time... In fact, it happened something like six months ago, during the cold winter of Montreal. I was out to go clubbing downtown with a bunch of girls and some of their friends.  Even if I was in my hometown, I barely knew only a few girls of the gang that night and I found them a little boring, as one of them was too drunk to realize I was there and another one was stiff just as usual.  (Nothing special to that point!)

But some of the girls which I didn't even know seemed quite nice and that is how I started to hang out with them.  One of the girls, let's call her Vanessa (I don't remember her real name), introduced me to one of her friend, Francis, a guy who looked bored just like me.  I think we exchanged like 2 sentences, and he asked me if I'd like to go dancing with him.  And of course, I said yes...

So we went on the crowded dance floor and I had such a surprise: the guy was quite a dancer!  He was moving just right and dancing with him was such a great experience.  He was holding me very close to him, tight but not too much.  He followed the rhythm perfectly and all I had to do was to follow his body.  If I could have an orgasm just because of dancing, I would have had a huuuuge and wet one (lol).... a danceGASM.

While we were dancing so perfectly, we began to kiss me, just as he was dancing.  Then he lifted the hand he held my ass with, to put it back down, in my pants and really grabbed my ass with it.  But I didn't care, everything was so sexually-perfect.

Then he moved his hand in my pants and went in for the front area... and then he started to play with his fingers.  It was so intense... I completely lost connection with the real world, so I just don't know if anyone had realized what we were doing.  And while he was masturbating me, I put my hand into his pants too, to play with his dick!  And he had such a dick... so bad I didn't end up the night with him!!! And all of this because one of my friend (that is no longer my friend) was sleeping at my home and I had a little respect for her... I didn't want her to go back all alone or to have a very bad night because she would have heard my scream all night long while having HOT SEX in the room next to her!

I wish, I'll meet him again...

(IS THIS BORING RODZILLA?)

Fabulous Andy: In Da Club 2

Miss Fab has been partying quite a lot in the past few days. You guys can't say I don't provide appropriate research for my articles.

I hurt my arm last week. (No, I wasn't drunk, I slipped during my dance practice.) That didn't stop me from going out with school buddies, however, and having a hell of a good time. Journalism students might be very unsexy, but boy, do they drink! All of a sudden, a drunken nerdy girl in my program started - ahem -"dancing" (actually, she was trying to move her hips in a sexy way) with the BIGGEST crush I've ever had.

Let me explain.

I was nine years old when I saw him for the first time. He was in my class in elementary school and I thought - and still think - he was gorgeous. I used to be an almost-mute little girl, so never did I dare talk to him. For the next two years, I would shyly stare at him from far away at recess and hope he would invite me to dance each time we had an elementary school disco party. I finally realized that nothing would happen between us when we went in different high schools.

Now, he's part of the communications department at my university AND he was dancing with a trashed nerdy whore?! In all my drunkiness, I thought that was insane.

The next evening, I went out with Cherry and her cousin to go man-hunting. After too many tequila shots, we hit the dancefloor. I thought one of the bouncers look just like one of the hot managers at the resto-bar where I work, so I danced whorily and without mercy. Instead of looking at me, he was too busy taking care of the promotion chicks.

Clubs sometimes have really corny themes. That night, a bunch of girls were dressed as angels and devils. I get good ol' God must have had a heart attack when he saw how ugly they were. Plus, they weren't even dancing!

I ended the night playing bootilicious with this aggressive asshole. He was a lot of fun dancing with, but kept on trying to choke me. Tired of feeling molested, I slapped him at one point and told him to calm down, which he did.

I deleted his phone number five minutes later.

The next night, after having laughed/screamed/carried beer pitchers all evening because of multiple bachelors' and bachelorettes' parties at work, I went to Rodzilla's house where he was hosting a party. The ONLY hot guy, it appeared, had a girlfriend.

Too bad, I thought. I would've definitely intensified the constant grin he had on his face if he hadn't had the "other" glued to him the whole time.

Time to sleep, guys. I wish y'all a good night and stay tuned for more raunchiness next weekend...

Rodzilla: Online SexHOPPING

Yeah, yeah, you thinking the bro' ain't got enuff dough?! No, No. I've got plenty of clothes and pumps to put on but hey, you ain't neva got enough!!

I've always HATED shopping in malls and family-targeted outlets 'cuz guess what? It's just plain unoriginal and tired. I used to go shopping with Terrine very often and I really need to say she's exhaustive! Sincerely, take note that she is one hell of a crazy shopper and that she spends all of her money. She's also very freak-o about what to wear and stuff. She's like a 40 year-old mom (like mine); what I mean by that is she wants to know your opinion but will NEVER agree with you. Once you've told her what you think, she'll try to convince you that what she wants is better. And this toward clothes that will belong and be worn by her!! I like looking at my friends and feeling that they're hot and that I'm glad to know'em but hey, I won't throw a bitch fight 'cuz a sista doesn't wanna wear what I'd like her to wear!

As for me, I need clothes that scream my favourite word : SEX. I also need distinguishable apparel 'cuz I'm simply a fierce mothafucka. Boutique and window shopping is so '98. Nowadays it's the internet that has revolutionized our way to consume and spend our money. I really want to bring your attention to the newly updated http://www.ebay.com/ website that now hosts a section dedicated to Fashion plus a Fashion Blog. How extraordinaire?! I'd say that I'm Dangerously In Love like Beyoncé but in this case, not with Jay-Z. But Queen B had a strong hint then : Rappers know how to sell clothes, perfumes, cars, video games and SEX.

That's why I'm looking forward to buying a t-shirt that has a sexy rapper like Snoop Doggy Dogg on it or any kind of street-cred credited bastard. I need to tell you that Fabulous Andy told me she had sex listening to some Drake!!! Isn't that incredibly funny?! She happened to be making out with a guy who had befriended ex-Degrassi Drake in his early teens in Toronto. I was so drunk when she told me that I fell on the floor laughing my ass off!!

Let's  not get too far from our main focus: Internet Product Purchases. I basically had the call to tell you my passion for it and how it revolutionized my life (and my bank account). I'll end up with french beauty telling y'all: "Achetez tout ce que vous désirez, lisez notre blogue et faites comme nous: FOURREZ"!!!

Rodzilla: Are We Sluts?

The main subject of my questioning since the last few months.

I think I’m the kind of person who always reminisces about everything he does; especially when it comes to sex. Accordingly, I’m so horny that sometimes I’d be willing to give up on anyone having minimal junk in the trunk. I’m a man, you gotta excuse my manners but when the testosterone bursts, there’s nothing I can do to help it; I gotta live my bestiality with another beast.

When I feel like having sex, I usually take the train #1 which consists of one night-stands. I know this sounds very unclassy and even plain pathetic but for me, sex partners are like Kleenexes; you’d use’em just to wipe away your stickiest shortcomings. I guess I’m totally not old-fashioned and prefer not having to wake up with the rat bastard the day after or the day after after. Fabulous Andy, Terrine and I have all had one night-stands but I think Fabulous Andy and I are the worst, let’s just say we’re more fabulous.

I can’t say that I regret sleeping with strangers but there are times when I keep asking myself the same question than Carrie from Sex and The City : Are We Sluts? Some people would say yes, some others would say no, but one thing is for sure: you can call me ho! Haha, let’s not have any shame here! It’s our blog, it’s meant to be hot ‘N humid just like the Caribbean haven both of my female colleagues have down south.

Being a real whore would imply charging your partners for your services which we don’t. Therefore, I think this might be an acknowledgeable sign that we are not prostitutes. I made the countdown and officially slept with 6 men (I’m 20), Fabulous Andy did the same and I think it was 12 (twice my worryness) and as for Terrine, it was something like 4 or 5, how disappointing? We can all agree by the numbers that Terrine is the most boring and needs to get some piece of ass more often!

I think I’ll have to go for now, I’m way too busy searching for meat, studying, working and trying to get some sleep once in a while! But I think I’ll sum it up saying we might be whores but I don’t think there’s anything bad about it, Dankjewel!

Fabulous Andy: In Da Club

I enjoy going clubbing.

It's even nicer when you're underage. I remember going to my first bar when I was 16. Dude, did I feel powerful going by the doorman without showing my cards! My friend and I drank like everyone else, but ended the night watching stupid teenage movies and eating gummy bears at her place. There's nothing like gummy bears to remind you how immature you still are.

For those puritain readers living in the States, the drinking age is 18 here, so come on down and call me (ha, ha)! Unless Harper abolishes the gun registration, you may not bring your weapons, though.

So I started actual clubbing at the age of 17. Older friends had taught me about the proper attire and the proper men one should dance with. Proper men, however, are not part of my vocabulary, I soon found out. Good guys don't dance well because they're too shy. (Same thing goes for Germans. They've never learned to use their hips!) I had a lot of fun with black dudes and latino guys I would've never presented to my parents. Y'all had them tattoos, shaggy clothes 'n bandanas, y'know. Shiggas.

Shiggas were part of my world for a little while. Grinding was fun, but exchanging phone numbers became a bit too intimate. A relationship CANNOT start while grinding with hip-hop music blasting in one's ears. I tried, and the dude ended up in fact being eleven years older than I was.

Some guys are worth just having a very brief relationship with. Others would make good husbands... for my neighbor. It's one or the other. Bad-ass or goody-two-shoes. Aren't there any compromises in Montreal? Fun guys, good-looking if possible, who don't carry knives in their pockets, who would have a slightly more extended vocabulary than "yo" or "chill"?

That's what we'll see in my next blog post. I have a busy weekend ahead, filled with parties. I'll let you guys know what kind of fishies are in those oceans.

Terrine: End of the Discussion.

Recently, I had dinner with my mother who asked me if I had some news about my ex-boyfriend?!?!?

I was like: Why would I?  Don't you remember he stopped talking to me and flushed me of Facebook because I had dumped him?

And then she was like: Yes, but I thought that maybe, even if he had stopped talking to you for a while, he would have given you some of his news.

And I said: No!

Here's a thing I don't understand about motherS.  When you are with a guy, they totally hate him!  But then, when it is over, they miss him so much and they keep telling you about how much of a good guy he was.

And this is the part where I say: Yeahh, you're right!  He was such a nice guy!  In the end he was a control-freak, and so jealous that another guy couldn't smile at me or be my friend, 'cause it was not normal according to him that I had some masculine friends while I had a boyfriend!  But he was always acting good in front of you, ain't that nice, mom?

End of the discussion!

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