I had no idea that Cindy Crawford was in Montreal promoting the opening of some furniture because I tend to not stay on top of events that take place at Furniture Stores and try to focus my social calendar around places girls get naked and not where girls talk about decorating rooms and revamping their houses. The only reason I know that Cindy Crawford was in Montreal this past weekend, is because I accidentally had sex with her, and by sex I mean I was crossing the street when this black SUV almost ran me the fuck over around midnight, they stopped to go into some bar or hotel or some massage parlor or whatever the fuck it was and this tall chick in a red dress got out with 4 dudes who must have been her security. I was with a friend and he told me that it was Cindy Crawford so I screamed “Cindy, I used to jerk off to your playboy pics before my dick stopped working”, she ignored me and kept walking but I know she thought about it later that night while masturbating, I just have that affect on women.

Here are the pictures of her at the furniture store, a highlight in her fading career but not as much of a highlight in my fading career as screaming that to her. It is times like that that I wish I had a camera, but I’m too poor.

Marisa Miller hosted a party with Puff Daddy in Montreal this past weekend and I didn’t go because I wasn’t invited, tickets were $250 dollars and if you wanted a place to sit down, it was $5000 because Puff Daddy isn’t rich enough and feels that he should charge outrageous prices so the everyday 9 to 5 millionaire can pretend they partied with him, giving them stories to tell their friends and family about how they spent 1000 dollars to be under the same roof as the motherfucker while listening to the same tunes as the motherfucker as club slut girls shook their asses for them in hopes of getting free drinks off their bottles all while hanging out in a club owned by the mob that I have unfortunately been to in the past and have felt my life was at risk because no matter how trendy you make a place, when the owners are gangsters, you could get in the line of fire and it’s really a fucking lame event and party that is not worth literally dying for.

Either way, Grand Prix weekend here is a total fucking mess, where they shut down a bunch of streets and drunken fools from out of town to take over and cause traffic so that the poverty that fill the city can’t get out to their local drinking holes without having to to walk through a mob of gym bound dudes in Ed Hardy and ugly chicks with fake tits who think they are stylin’ cuz their lame boyfriend rented a Posche for the week because people are into spending money to show off how fuckin’ ballin’ they are.

The goal was to get out there and fuck with people, videotape them cheating on their wives with local sluts and pretty much doing my part to destroy the event for as many people as possible, but I just ended up getting drunk at some shitty bar that wasn’t taken over by the bottle poppin’ celebrity try hards with no concept of what’s up, and instead got drunk with some fat chick who wouldn’t stop talking about her cat and I don’t mean her pussy.

I guess I just hate the fact that I am poor and that I get no love for what I do and I feel like Marisa Miller should have been inviting me to her hotel room to help her shower, even though bitch looks like a 30 year old soccer mom that’s been marketed enough for people to believe she’s the hottest thing out there and who pay 250 dollars to see her from afar.

I missed out on the greatest day in Montreal History this weekend, while I was in the gutter drunk because it is my birthday, Paris Hilton was doing some launch for her new shoe collection and partying at some club. I guess she forgot to call me to let me know she’d be around but it seems like it was a big fucking deal, which is both a testament to how pathetic this city is and to the impact this bitch has on the youth. Shit was on the news and in the newspaper and teenage girls everywhere were cumming all over their Hannah Montana underwear as they waited in line for up to 8 hours to get a chance to shake her dirty little hand. The longest I’ve ever waited to get with an std ridden bitch was about 15 minutes while she was using rubbing alcohol to disinfect as I ran to the bank machine to get cash.

I probably should have sucked up my hatred and disinterest for the bitch and channeled it into something funny or creative. I could have dressed up like a crazed teenage girl fan and made her sign my ass, or maybe even get to interviewing her about whether she uses condoms or not, or even dress up in my neighbors suit and claim to be some kind of big record exec here and set up a meeting with her because she’s on some mission to get ahead but I suck at life so the best I can do is rip off these pictures for you.

The bad news is that there wasn’t a random shooting in the club she partied at this weekend. You know one of those drug deals gone bad situation where a motherfucker comes in a shoots the place up. I don’t wish death upon Paris, but a stray bullet to her leg or arm would probably do bitch some good.

I found out that Paris was going to be hitting up some ChaChi bar in Montreal about a week ago. I thought it would be funny to get myself into the event even though it’s not that funny. So I tried contacting the club involved. They wanted nothing to do with me or the website so I had to think of alternative options….

I was given Paris’ number a long time ago and we used to have a little dialog going. Unfortunately her number was released on the internet and she changed the shit. So I was stuck with Stavros’ number. Now if you don’t know who Stavros is, he is the fuckin’ man. He has banged anyone famous you can think of, from Petra Nemcova, to Lohan to one of the Olsen twins - so I decided to reach out to him…

Now, Stavros has been in my phone for a while, and I constantly send him text messages and he responds. I never understood why, becauseI have told him that I am from drunkenstepfather, and he always seems to ignore what I say. I had no idea how to get into this shit, so I asked him an he put me on the list. He was under the impression that I was his boy MIchael Perez and I just rode that shit home. So as he told me that I was on the list, and I’d ask him under what name and he told me Michael Perez, I just went along with it…

When I got to the club I told them that I was this Michael Perez motherfucker and they didn’t have me on the list, so I wrote Stavros a CURT text message saying that I was gettin dicked around. The dude was wearing overalls and no shirt and made me feel uncomfortable…Within about 15 minutes the owners of the club found me in the group of 100s of people, apologized and brought me inside like I was important, even though I hadn’t showered and was wearing ratty clothes. I was on Paris’ list and they thought I was some Michael Perez motherfucker who was important for whatever reason. I got to the bar, thought it was hysterical cuz everyone in there was showered and good looking, drank as much as I could afford and waited for the night to end. I fell down the stairs to the bathroom and I was rejected when trying to get into Paris’ VIP area, by Paris Hilton. The security dude brought her my cell phone where all the Stavros messages went down, and she looked at it and said that I could join her stupid dance circle.

The whole epxerience was fucking jokes and I kept laughing. I met some black chick who liked roses and some blond chick who thought I was bored and I just drove that shit home

I think the highlight of the night was watching a whole club zone in on Paris and watch her every move. Bitch would dance and everyone in the place would clap like she was Barney. The whole place was focused 100 percent on her. I guess they didn’t notice how handsome I looked.

When I was leaving, I was told Paris hadn’t left, so I waited around to let her know who I was. Not that it got me invited to her hotel room, but it was still funny, and that is the video you see. I will deny that being my voice because the asshole in it sounds jewish and 13, but reality is that we love Paris and Stavros and this is the proof. I am now Michael Perez and you are still an asshole.

So after all is said and done, they still don’t know what this website is or that it exists, but Paris Hilton is 100 percent worth a round, and I would be willing to get herpes for one night in her. I will be tickling my balls with the hand I shook of hers, just after I disinfect it. Paris changed my life, and I am a groupie now…I am pretty easy to win over…all I need is a little booze and some attention…CUDDLES….

UPDATE: I was fucking drunk when editing and writing this post at 5 am. I was out alone and stealing booze off some dudes with gel in their hair’s bottle….I shoulda asked her to bring me back to her hotel to let me lick her asshole. But I forgot. I did feel like a 14 year old girl waiting around to see Paris, but I needed to get something for the site and I wasn’t about to get arrested over the shit, so this is what you get.

If you were looking for a video of me throwing my feces at her, this isn’t it. I am too nice for that. I forgot to tell her I was from Drunkenstepfather.com, I was just trying to get over my big breasted Barmaids big breasts and the fact that people actually care about Paris. Like care so much that there was a crowd outside the place. I was also trying to get over this really rich bald old guy and his entourage of 10 really hot 20 year olds who I can only assume were on Payroll, making me realize that when you have money you can have any pussy you want.

It may look like I was all lined up to meet and greet her, I was just standing outside with some dude from Afghanistan when this went down…harassing random people coming out of the club…but I barely got any of it on video because I was drunk. I did try to hustle a black girl and that was a first for me. It wasn’t a success because some male model type was handing out roses to all the girls and that made all their panties wet, if they were even wearing panties…which made the floor wet…either way, I was upstaged by him and I was only doing it because I figured she wouldn’t mind my stink.

So I was told that Hilary Duff was in town and I wasn’t about to try to go to her concert because I don’t give a fuck about her, but I did find out where the after party she was probably getting paid big money for was and decided I should try to get some exclusive content because maybe that will make me famous…I guess I could have tried to rape and kidnap her too, I would have been on the news and shit, but I am too pussy to actually do that kind of thing…and I don’t have a car and trying to walk home with some famous bitch you’ve just kidnaped is a good way to get caught. So I email the promoter with some bullshit about how the site is number 1 in montreal, which it was according to the shitty local paper, even though I rigged the results, it still counts to me because they printed it….Bitch tells me that I am in, I tell her that I look homeless and that her shitty club has rejected me a few other times like when Christina Aguilera was there and when some other lame celebrities were there….but Bitch assures me that there will be no problem at all….

Anyway, I get to the event, showered, thinking it will improve my chances, but the bouncer doesn’t want to let me in, I was never on the list and I don’t belong there. I talk my way to getting into the doors and in front of a door girl and I show her my camera saying I am here to take pictures for National Enquirer, now I only have a beat up broken point and shoot I borrowed from my neighbor, and bitch bites, telling me to stay away from the actual party and to stay in the corner where no one can see me…..

I buy a really expensive drink by a pornstar looking bar maid and I wait for Hilary Duff to show up, I have no idea what the deal with the night is, I am just running off some tip someone gave me. I am standing in the middle of the area where no one can see me, and all of a sudden I get thrown out of the way by some huge body guard, I look to see what’s up and there’s Hilary Duff, looking small, haggard and beat up, giggling with her entourage….

I wait around thinking she’s going to get on stage or some shit, but nothing. I listened to some DJ who was trying to be DJ AM, but couldn’t mix for shit and was stuck listening to a bad 80, 90s and Today dance mix that made me want to kill myself or at least for one of the metrosexuals drinking champagne to slip some roofies in my drink to make the site a little more of a success….

A group of 4 people got on stage and started to do some kind of hip hop dance routines. I figured they were locals trying to get noticed by Duff because she was in the room. The bitches were in short skirts and were too fat to be famous, but I figured we’re all allowed to dream and sat and watched as their skirts rode high, asses exposed and dance…then I realized that we were watching Hilary Duff’s fat back-up dancers in all their gayness and I turned on my shitty camera. I somehow managed to miss all the ass shots, I even saw one of the girl’s cunt, because she bent over and her underwear was moved to the side and by the time I realized that that was the main show, it was over.

I chatted up some photographer who was there, tried to convince him to give me his pics, because as the dancers were dancing, Hilary Duff was pretending to DJ her own song that they were dancing to and I missed all the Hilary Duff action…when it all ended Hilary Duff walked by me again, with her entourage and bouncers, and I didn’t have a chance to slip her the love note I had written her, because I figured creeping her out was the best way into her life….

This is the love letter I wrote her:

Dear Hilary,

I know you don’t know me, but I know you. I write about you whenever your nipples are hard, your shorts are too short, your bikini too wet, your panties exposed, or any other embarrassing things you’ve been caught doing on camera. I have even coined you and your sister as the Duffgusting sisters. I know you don’t know me or what I do because only 5 people read my site, but despite thinking you are ugly and talentless and confused as to why you’re more famous than the hotter, tighter, better singer neighbor of mine, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.

I think together you could really find happiness and through artificial insemination, because my dick doesn’t work, I could find a solid retirement plan.

With Love,

Jesus Martinez
DrunkenStepfather.com

Here is the video footage of the dancers:

Here are pictures of her Montreal show, that I ripped off of some girls facebook, because stealing from Hilary Duff fans is like stealing candy from a baby….