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ab texts me yesterday, what’re you up? me, fuck all aside from sweating profusely into the couch. ok lets do this.

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wish i was sitting more awkwardly here. balls hot yesterday. eventually got the idea to sit on a cloth napkin like some sort of genius.

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perfect portion. the chili is great.

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i am fantasizing about clipping abigail’s big toenails. hot.

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ronnie’s vacay. chels met up with us.

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my hair looks like my dad’s on a saturday morning in 1989 making scrambled eggs with cartoons blaring. my hair was doing all sorts of weird shit yesterday. i made my bangs like astroboy a lot. ab was feeling it. she was also really feeling eating a pickle from chels’ grilled cheese order. THIS PICKLE IS AWESOME. guy, you’re blasted hahaha.

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exactly.

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sure you may join us.

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dumpster party. there is a hilarious mismatched collection of chairs gathering out back.

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when the central girls hang everything eventually leads to that neighbourhood.

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ok fine i am retiring my peace signs.

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chelsea’s nails matching ab’s toes.

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central garden. basil. that’s norman, he is the fuck’n man.

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ab said yesterday that being a server is equally high stress a job as an air traffic controller and when the body undertakes a mass amount of stress it sits in your middle and you get fat. makes sense.

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yes! too dark to get a photo of the carpaccio i had, which was incredible. i pulled a houdini on the girls cos i didn’t want to drink anymore, i needed to consume but it could no longer be booze or food, not that i even drank that much. bleh. so i went to honest ed’s and spent 52 dollars which equals truckloads of crap.

not bad for a monday, guys.

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met up with craig at the drake for carpaccio and a mimosa he’s like, oh how nice you biked all the way from paris. no, more like honest ed’s during a panic attack. what a killer weekend.

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hahahhahahaha.

ok more tomorrow.

manufacturing software

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welcome to strung out sundays.

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here’s the cast.

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nothing like fresh shoes. thanks again mer.

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before all that rob and i hit mitzi’s for dinner. we got there and had zero appetite so i had a cigarette. only half, it was disgusting and stupid but felt right. and very wrong.

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mel’s phone exploded so it’s like being a kid again waiting around for her to get home, how did anybody hang out before cellphones?

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i look quite fetching with a clothespin in my hair. i dunno why melodie had one in her hair, i stopped asking questions around here back in january.

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that’s me with no makeup. that’s rob with no makeup.

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that’s lucas with no makeup.

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oh god.

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moron.

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it only gets better from here on in.

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family meeting.

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i love mezzrow’s. it’s the ronnie’s of parkdale.

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you’re the ronnie’s of parkdale.

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melodie would rather go to the rummy bar with no pants on than eat one of the sad fish of mezzrow’s. i tried to tweet this last nite but it appears as though a drunk person got a hold of my account. how do you block someone on twitpic?

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a moment.

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i should have gotten that skirt in a smaller size. whatever. everybody in drapes.

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see how normal people smile (melodie) then see me, cranked to eleven.

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we love you this much.

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lucas what is this pose called?

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virgin shirley temples for suuuuure.

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oh summer. how many times do you live?

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my leg is bleeding in this one, i scraped it on something. i also practically broke my baby toe the nite before as well. so clumsy.

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holding on for dear life.

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i would barf if i had to eat one of these things.

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wonder if they have names?

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tan forever.

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fruit of the loom shoe match, i planned that.

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i think it’s time to head home guys.

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my purse is kind of dorky eh.

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stupid scar.

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you can’t win ‘em all.

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i love pockets. wow what an astute proclamation. CHAMPION!

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starving right now.

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warren can you pick up that couch painting already i spent your two hundred dollars for it two years ago jesus.

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i’m on day three no weed now and i feel great. so much clarity and leaning out, bring on the chiseled, hello hip bones nice to see your friendly faces again. i haven’t been snack attacking and my crazy sugar cravings are pretty much non-existent now i feel like a total idiot for not doing this sooner.

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if you follow my twitter then you already know i went on a pretty bad date the other nite but it’s ok as last nite’s date slayed. fuck’n finally and no i don’t feel bad for doing a play-by-play update on twitter. the guy sucked, his identity will never be revealed, no big deal. the dating scene is an awful soul-sucking place so why should i feel bad, fuck, i feel bad enough for myself. do you know how many crappy dates i’ve been on since i joined pof? i want to puke. it’s my life, i write about my life, get the fuck over it creeps.

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why did i join that site? well for the billionth time it’s easier to learn what is up in this manner in lieu of eye-tag with a stranger in a bar all night long then neither of you approach one another and then you both go home glum and glummer. no i am not hard up, i get hit on like bananas, i get screamed at in the street all the time (good screams) but it never amounts to anything.

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i am disgusted and repulsed by what is being said about myself, my mother, my ex, melodie, my friends, everything, right now on the good old internet. these people have nothing, no lives of their own to focus on it’s sick, totally unhealthy. i am resigned to this treatment and that’s wrong. i am desensitized by it. also wrong. people ask me all the time how i do this and i say well to pack it in now would be pretty fucking stupid. hatred comes with the territory. the nature of the flamer, troll, hater, is to purposely provoke and push buttons and to flub facts to make the attackee step in and correct then it drags on and on and on until you ignore. you’re never supposed to engage these fuckers but it’s so hard not to. blah. they say when i go to my dad’s i’m sponging off him. i visit my dad because we enjoy each other’s company and i’m a good bloody daughter and it’s a heatwave out here i like to leave the city and clear my head why the fuck am i defending myself to you assholes? so when you visit your family that’s you sponging too? cool logic. do you know it actually costs me money to go out there and i am self-sufuckingfficient i work fucking hard and i play fucking hard and guess what I DO MAKE MONEY OFF THIS BLOG FOR THE BILLIONTH GODDAMN TIME. when i go out and take photos of my life, that’s me MAKING MONEY. that’s my content. my life is my content where is the mystery is everyone on crazy pills here are you new? i also get to go to events for free and drink for free and so do my friends because we’re hip and connected that’s how it works, we go to exclusive parties that you do NOT because you’re not in-the-know, of-the-know, you are nothing of the sort and you never were nor will be. whose fault is that? you know what, if any of you had the nards to email me and ask i would take you as my plus one because i am that insane and generous you have no clue, seriously no clue that’s what’s ultimately so draining about every raymi bashing thread for my friends to bear witness to because they know me, they know i would give them my shirt.

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this sign worked like a charm yesterday.

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there is some disgusting fuck in oakville stalking me on twitter. he made an account specifically to fuck with me. he told me to close my legs and toronto smells bad enough. how can people be so awful? i know i can be snarky and all but i am not a cruel person i also don’t harass people. all those anonymous shitstains bandy about the same excuse for years YEEEEEARS about why they “have” to be anonymous because i’ll come and stalk them. please. as if i have the time. i barely have time for the majority of my friends why on earth would i invest time in some lunatic i don’t even know or care about? you’re anonymous because 1. you’re either someone who knows me in the real world and you’re too afraid to tell me to my face what you feel about me yet for some reason maintain a phony relationship with me or 2. you’re disgusting-looking, you know in your heart you don’t measure up to snuff. the emptiest vessels make the most noise. true and true and true. you think i’ll reject you so you pre-reject. babies.

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so like on a saturday nite and then a sunday afternoon when we’re out living our lives doing our thing these peons are aggressively obsessively talking about us and WE are the losers here???? get fucked guys!

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how am i a terrible person for daring to go on dates and seek out a boyfriend?? and apparently i’m seeking one out to grift off of? ever heard of a thing called LOVE, black hearts? even jian (whom you also cannot stop talking about are you in fucking love with him?) or any other canadian notable, are famous people not allowed to date? spread themselves around like any other normal person? why are you SO brutally bitter?

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i would just like to thank you on behalf of my clients, they will be pleased with the MINOR traffic spike your shitty little website garnered. they sure do love their stats.

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great little studio sale.

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tons of triumphs in this little nook, jamie.

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here’s how the haterade always goes down.

-go out with friends

-turns out friends are mutual friends of someone famous

-famous person’s photo goes on my blog

-blog lurker links to my post with said famous person’s photo in it the second i hit publish AND I’M THE LOSER AGAIN? i suck so bad that you just have to park on my blog 24/7? riiight.

-ten thousand bored people go who’s raymi

-person who initially linked to the photo of famous person explains who i am along with their personal raymi biases.

-famous person bashing turns into raymi bashing.

-i or my friend DARES to stand up for me which makes me even more despised because newsflash you are not allowed to stick up for yourself on the internet. you are one person, they are one person posing as 50 losers.

-thread hate ensues until you give them nothing, could be days.

yawn.

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omg im sooooooooo narcissistic look at me having my picture taken for the hundred-thousandth time what a fucking asshole!

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one more thing.

i am super proud of my mother. i love her to pieces. she drives me nuts but so what whose mother doesn’t? she’s owning it big time. she is a very nurturing and caring person and will have anyone’s back in a crisis. she is a beautiful woman inside and out how DARE you say such disgusting things about my mother you are sickening and psychotic and i hope you feel terrible about all of this. despicable. you know who you fucking are. go look in the mirror, take a long hard look and tell yourself you feel great. you bitter, sad, sad, humans. i feel sorry for you.

ps. lia the olympus pen is amazing!!!!

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i am planning to get hot again i hope everyone is ok with this. just cruised my facebook photos and was wondering what the hell did i let happen here? i know we are all beYOND bored of my complaining about any and every single fucking thing just take these little updates as notes to self. i wouldn’t remember half the shit i wanted “to do” if not for this blog.

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i am also giving up weed. i know. HUGE. i figure it’s a big player in the dysthymic department and i can tell a difference in my spirit and energy overall when i don’t hit the thinking cigarettes so they’ve gotta go. i’m hoping to become slightly manic again which leads to skeletor city.

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how many photos do we need to see of me in my niece’s bedroom? i actually crash in my brother’s room cos the bed’s bigger and he moved in with his girlfriend so i get to boss the house around when i come to visit.

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mom and i got gunned at barangas. great drinks and view.

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dip platter is a bit of a rip. actually the entire menu is retardedly overpriced but you’re essentially paying for the real estate so you can’t really complain too much. ha look at me talking about complaining like i am some sort of expert on the subject.

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thong tan lines.

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golden top gun frames. found these in barangas’ john thank you very very much. they’re cheap so i don’t feel bad.

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rockyyyyyyyyyyy.

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i know one of my favourite things is to talk about sweating a lot but wow, so profusely this backyard session brought. i’ve never seen my blythe glisten so.

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and by hot again i meant this.

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dad can you flip this house and get one with a pool instead?

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totally freckled out. what an idiot totally forgot about the forehead burn i got in thunder bay.

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today was pretty productive. i sweated off 3lbs and got skin cancer.

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mall rat time then shower then dinner date with dad.

coming out here keeps me out of trouble. we played balderdash last nite and made fun of each other like mental, brother came by with his gf. i think i have surpassed the intelligence of balderdash’s obscure word choosing cos my bullshit definitions are so confusing and verbose everyone knows it’s mine cos it’s nothing but pompous arrogance forever and then i don’t choose it which makes it all the more obvious it’s a lark. have to dumb it down some more to blog-level proportions.

staring at little prince (pipe) and weed baggy like i’m in a crappy drug movie right now but i’m too buzzed off natural hyper so it’s not bothering me i’m just kinda irritable like dave chappelle in half baked when he gives up weed for a stretch for that annoying mary jane chick. i am picturing myself with a janitor’s broom snapping at people in a lab and chuckling. i also keep LOLing over a brief gchat i had with tim when i was in tbay he’s like i fucking hate you for escaping the city during this heatwave people are all omg it’s SOOO hot SOO HOTTT and i’m all YES I KNOW IT’S HOT THANK YOU. heat makes you awful irritable eh.

just wait til it’s fall for one short period then 7 months of frigid. enjoy it i guess.

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faux hair freaks me out. faux/real, either or, just makes me laugh seeing it all prepared like this but now my hair is almost too light, i’ve reached platinum and this is ash blond. cool purchase timing there, cool job.

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but it’s soooo darling. last nite i was very into admiring it eh. peh.

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it’s super tight also. i cannot commit to an all day hairband headache. pass.

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i WILL wear it at some point or other like every headpiece i’ve ever purchased, worn to be adorn once then to collect dust forever.

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hipster vision. i was trying to fuck around with my olympus pen but i couldn’t hack it (half in the bag)(not really just tired). i was like ok i am going to figure this out without looking at the instructions. no dice. every photo came blown right out, just flash. i will get melodie on the case she keeps nagging me about it.

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thinking of youuuu maybe i should buy it a cellphone so i can call it when i’m at my dad’s. that was the sound of me retiring that cellphone joke once and for fucking all.

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sweat gushhhhhh. post work post wrong bar no fan in my room. death. clothing barfed all over my couch, room is getting styish again it’s too hot to be in there for very long so it’s a mad grab of clothing and get the fuck outtie. also my flower plant died. ON TOP OF THINGS!!!

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if you wanted an orange red tanned hued all the time girlfriend i am right here.

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horrible photo haha. jumper skinny inspiration i was a size zero when i bought it around the time of my birthday. thank you metabolism summer slow down. meredith that is your cape work-of-art behind it. are you back in toronto yet?

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meanwhile over here we have all the sunglasses and misc. materials that fall out of reach, a good reach, impossibly irritating out of reach. they are still there as we speak.

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today’s lunch.

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then i remembered it was pre-washed. duhhhhhhhh.

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melodie has this phenomenal salt she got in a bday basket from her brother.

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olive oil, smoked salt and a teeny bit of cayenne. kinda off cayenne thanks to the cleanse which after this horrible diet will try up again. though there’s another one i’ve been offered a go at.

researching resorts in maui then i’m westward bound. presently working on the slowest ad/money transaction ever. fuck man. it’s hilarious (and amazing) how this can even be considered work sometimes. work like this for example: hey do you like watches??? no? well then how’s about mobile phones? hmmm. well then what about….a new webcam? awesome. well, don’t forget the speakers for it though hahaha aaaand work day is complete. i can make several hundred dollars in like ten minutes and then be like, super fucking bored the rest of the day and have all this time which is why i’m fat cos i’m like fuck yeah money free time bars restaurants worlddddddddd!

i am also being railroaded in some shitty cbc forum obsessed thread right now because jian ghomeshi had the audacity to be friends with some of my friends, egad! twerps who aren’t part of any scene whatsoever have no idea how people’s lives in the city actually are. i bet they just go to work and go home and talk to each other on the internet about other people living lives slightly out of the ordinary with a bunch of a fame sprinkled on top. does that make them feel better, seriously? i’d be really embarrassed. they’re making fun of my hair which only makes me want to hang on to it forever and they think i’m an ex-fuck of jian’s. can we not have a birthday patio hang without an ass ton of loser nobody pundits jerking off all over it?

i should try to make more of my shitty blog posts make the news though, it’s pretty funny (not to mention ego-stroking) cos by the time it hits you’re all BOO! OLD!

ok fine bye xoxo

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last nite was ridiculous.

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everyone says i’m anime here.

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yesterday was one of those days that goes zero to everything. killer. wow look at my hair.

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funny picture. gill and i hit amanda’s birthday thinger at the cadillac after leaving bar_one after leaving her place that we were supposed to just stay inside of and wine out to a blur dvd but we went outside so i could smoke weed then that turned into her needing to buy cigs then i’m like outside is great! so much better than inside (once it got dark) lets destroy this city. kinda a homecoming. look it’s jian ghomeshi!

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polaroid-fuji vision. i look like i am really into my little pony.

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before heading out realised had to fix face oh man i just remembered i have to go to gill’s and collect half of my crap cos we went out on a whim and i left a ton of stuff there. i’ll go on my way to work plus her place is nice and frigid no biggie.

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dork face.

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she has the best mirror. claims it isn’t a skinny mirror. BETTER NOT BE.

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if i had just stayed in i wouldn’t have eaten and dranked the city. gill let me inhale two packages of kit kat and coffee crisps mini bites (one of each) no not the supermarket bag sized, seven-11 sized. i could tell with each one i popped in to my mouth gill was getting happier and happier. expect to never get that grey cardigan back eh.

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we smelled a fire it was very pungent and the thick heat carried its scent. it was enchanting at first then it got gross. it was just some idiot burning stuff in his backyard.

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i have stood smoking in this alley in numerous snowstorms. once on a family day, the city felt gutted and emptied and we were drinking whatever we could cos all our friends are losers who missed the liquor store. sentimental alley.

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look i went meta, a polaroid in a polarioid. only one person laughed at that and everyone else pretended they knew what it meant. i felt secretly smug about that.

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sometimes i really dig bad quality photos. battery was dying on my phone, the air was hazy and smokey cos the fire was right in that backyard beside me.

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i hate that permanent scar on my left knee now FUCK. amanda said it was a bad looking bruise i said worse, it’s permanent. socks were unevenly-drooped all day. my personal fuck you to the world. we all fight our mini battles daily yes. oh my god i am an idiot.

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steph’s shirt. loving it.

there was a point to all this?

prosecco and cassis tastes great. i am weakened by the heat and told i complain about it way too much like an old man. i am going to buy a fan tomorrow. i need to get a new laptop this thing is ridiculous. the soundcard hasn’t bothered to work in so long sitting in silence drives me nuts it’s the one enjoyable thing about “working from home” and when you can’t have music but only heat and no air circulating in your hot parkdale mansion (that’s what this house is known as, cool eh?) irritation sets in. melodie is loading me up on hippie vitamins to get rid of my blues. she got lucas a new turntable so we’re spinning records now. it was his birthday last week. happy birthday again buddy xoxoxo!

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i just have a big mouth about things and when those things happen to be the subject of the boringest depression ever, yeah sorry for beating this dead horse i’ll try to talk about other stuff instead like how great it is to be back in the fucking city oh christ putting whiner on hold for a tick. loved loved loooved thunder bay and the skids babysitting me an awful lot but yes, talk about could be worse for this fellar. the sticks are too slow a pace for me right now. i NEED stimulus, crave it, will go absolutely bonkers without it. i can see my way out of sadness i see it almost ending, though it never permanently does, i can at least see stepping out of the thick of it for the time being. which is great. you don’t really know how good you got it til you go away for a little while.

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there’s a dude who periodically makes anorexia thighs comments so this one’s for him.

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people just cannot get the fuck over this. it’s hilarious.

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leave some tan for the rest of us.

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flourless chocolate cake. diet blowing. skinny the rest of the week.

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this would make the top ten of summer. billions of sweaty glasses of rosé.

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i order the same damn thing every time i hit sidecar. always the prix fixe, always the roast chicken. i probably have ten pictures of the same fucking chicken. ones from visits i’ve never even blogged.

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a young chick recognized beast. she texts her friend (his stepdaughter) saying spotted beast and some 22 year old girl wining and dining at sidecar. twenty-two! awesome. i cannot go anywhere in this town with that guy without a ton of extra extras all about it.

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ass of the city. can’t find my other black leggings. trying to find black clothing is impossible and frantic. you have to plan it like a day ahead cos if you’re ever in a hurry it’s not happening brother.

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i look part ‘tarded but this is how pumped i was to hit the mainland.

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toronto in 1982 vision.

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ate the insides of this sandwich only while the guy across the row stared in disbelief and awe mixed with confusion and gluttony. love the gratis wine there and back.

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impossible to read with a propeller going off in your head and exhausted to the max. kinda way too similar to how i garbage mania blog. inspiring all the same, if he could pull it off so can’t we all. specifically me.

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toldja we’re related.

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love sitting up front with the fat cats. you get treated less and less importantly the further back you sit while more and more importantly the closer to the front. i was row 5 so the flight attendant liked me 92%. i will chart a likability graph using a plane seat diagram zzzz cannot finish this stupid joke caption…

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greeeasy tired brat.

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after the BS what was my flight in (tell you later) taking off in a double solo seat was very luxurious.

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dos equis glasses. sidecar patio is dreamy.

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belting this. wearing to work today. i never wear it, dunno why. it’s kinda ballerina and drapes at different levels at the thighs. i may as well wear rags to work it gets so sweaty. there is no showboating til about fall/winter.

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kinda missed the elitist whining. there’s not much of that in tbay. it’s good to exist in both worlds i guess. all the elitist and fancy trappings of the city is a means to distract from how miserable i feel and you can’t very well do that when there aren’t trappings in the small town. you get too introspective. too much for me. i hate genuflecting i already know that i hate myself i don’t need to marinate on it more. adult depression is a scary thing. mid-twenties breakdowns blow. it’s a comfort to know that everybody has them at least.

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felt like i was just going to look tired forever. be tired forever. that’s another physical symptom of depression. you can delude yourself all you want but if you can barely climb stares without feeling utter fatigue then you know you’re in a sorry state. i know i said i would stop talking about it sorry sorry done!

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so i’ve invited about half of my facebook friends to the red light district facebook page. half so far cos there’s a lot of you and independently clicking gets a little tedious. they have me on board because i’m a toronto notable big mouth, i have the audience and well, this is how the internet works right? i thought about what it would be like to have a red light district in toronto, or anywhere in canada for that matter and i think it’d be pretty fantastic, downright smutty hopefully. it also makes me want to go to amsterdam right now. after flying somewhere and not having as much weed as i typically like to hoover at my fingertips became another nail in the teahead coffin what is my life. so anyway, if we get a red light district in toronto i want to fucking work in it. no not as a hooker. i want to start a business, a boutique, anything, and plunk it right smack dab in the center of it. i already live in parkdale how sketchier can things get? join the discussion and all that other controversial nerdy shit. vote even. could we handle it?

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one more stupid picture of me for the road. oh and one more after that.

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next activity is buckling down and playing with new olympus pen. note to self and world.

Okay, are you suicidal? I have seen your expression, in the mirror, it is written all over. I am thinking about you. Please make me feel like shit if I am wrong or crazy, but srsly. I am kind of where you are, I was there a while back and now I am here again, and I have been thinking about Kurt and everyone a lot, the people who have made the Escape. It is very, very tempting. Why is it this way for us? Why is death so fucking THERE. I don’t know. But please, just don’t, the Point Of It All may be nebulous and silly, but I believe in you and your creativity, you bring hope. Don’t make us all lose it and kill everyone ha, shit man. Love ya. I painted a picture that reminds me of you, totally subconscious, but you know how it goes girl

yesterday my blog got a billion hits. yes guy.