happy 10th!

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heyyy crazy,

happy 10 years of defining a whole genre of girl bloggery there are a million raymiesque blogs out there now in no short order thanks to you

even if you dont care much for imposters trying to out raymi you whatever we know one thing,

without you doing what you do for 10 years the internet might not have taken off much at all.

10 years!
if anything just think of the space you created!
not just in the actual blogosphere but the space in a thousand preteen maybe teen maybe early lady minds!

fluff meets fuck you!

neurosis meets confidence!

barbie meets tank girl!

and no its not just a GIRL blog, im not saying you project yourself like that..

it’s also a mississauga went to toronto blog as well as a toronto blog and a food blog and a fashiony blog (you’ve got style, or fashion, or whatever one is the more authentic term)… and so on and so on.

i moved out to edmonton so same with moving to ottawa only further, sometimes your blog is good for toronto nostalgia, like i just check in to see if it is all still there, if people are still wearing fake glasses or if we’ve collectively moved on and what’s up next because the further you go away from toronto the longer it takes for people to notice trends and for everyone to be into something, it took ottawa 3 years after toronto to go tall boots and i mean what was the hold up it snows all the time in ottawa… hahaha

anyways you’ve been great entertainment between my assignments and last minute essays in my undergrad and a stealth way to get through graduate seminars and all the nerds arguing about who is more right about revolution, you’re a way to feel like toronto isn’t all that far away no matter where i go and now you’re a fantastic distraction at work. keep blogging so i can keep sneaking peeks at the artists/writer/supercombo path while i pay off my fucking giant student debt and work in a non government organization.

with that, im going to leave you with the update that you’re not missing much in edmonton, i wish i could have gone to your big event, and here’s a picture of you slipping on a banana peel. where the fuck do those things even go when you slip on them? also attached is the basic cut out of you so if you put it up online people can copy the image and make their own bananas and ice images.

HAPPY 10 year anniversary!
xo
chelsea

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+++

HEY GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOIN’ NEXT SATURDAY BUT I WILL BE DOING THIIIIIS…

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I HAVE TWO TICKETS TO GIVE AWAY why am i yelling? anyway it’s going to be huge, here’s the copy on it:

this party is going to be AMAZING and one you won’t want to miss…

On Saturday, November 27th, 2010, Canada will receive the best of India’s nightlife culture as part of The Smirnoff Nightlife Exchange Project – a one-of-a-kind global experience in which 14 countries pair up to exchange the best of their local nightlife. In turn, India will receive the best of Canada’s nightlife on the same night.

So, want to be a part of the awesomeness?

What: The Smirnoff Nightlife Exchange Project: India

Who: Jalebee Cartel, Shaa’ir + Func, Dragonette, Isis

When: Saturday, November 27th, 2010

Where: The Munition Factory (!!!)

33 Villiers St

Toronto, ON

the dudes to receive this pair of tickets chosen by me (you must be of legal boozing age, they’re carding at door) just email me your best party photo of yourself ever (funny, creative, post party in the street) and tell me about that party and how you MADE the party. raymi@raymitheminx.com BYE.

this is not a love song it’s a sonnet damn it feels good to have people up on it

city people stay single longer. suburban people are simpler and already out here doing the suburban thing so the next obvious move is shacking up. they’re just as good looking as city people too, maybe even better looking, i’m serious. they don’t really even know it either. this is how you bag a dude, girls. go suburbs. i was just cruising me some facebook and the light bulb went off, all these hot hugging regular folk and i was like now WHAT is the deal with that? the girls snag the guys and mind fuck wet blanket them for years that’s the deal with that. suburban guys are used to mothering so they get girlfriends who mother, then they become mothers. every couple has a clique cluster surrounding it and these people are going to know each other for years, their kids will grow together and so on and no one is allowed to infiltrate this mini army. these are the consumers that keep the economy going, they buy all that useless shit, US weekly, follow city trends and give you slit eyes in the supermarket.

BUT, who is happier? who is left wanting?

they made a family, they kept it simple, they fear the city after awhile, definite bubble world. i’ve lived between both worlds many times and they refer to THE CITY in this voice, this elusive emerald city tone of voice like it’s a very big deal. like you can only have fun in the city, so much pressure to have fun in the city when they go to the city, it’s like new years eve every friday. i’ve gone out to the burbs a few times to get down and they’re like, why? lets turn around and go back you came from fun town girl. this girl can have fun anywhere is my point, one of.

there’s a bit of jealous rivalry between the suburbs and the city. if you don’t go to the city and carve out a city life you feel like you missed out just a little. i know i would have that’s why i broke up with my first boyfriend, i had my sights set on bigger shit. me traipsing around out here now like an arrogant tit is somewhat of a slap in the face of one whose roots are here, roots that are spreading. i’m an evil spinster lone wolf chick and yeah i have a persecution complex for sure but it doesn’t mean i’m wrong when i sense things from other women.

i represent the life they didn’t choose, maybe wanted. i represent a world unknown.

i am going out with my mom tonight and i know what’s going to happen before it will happen. just because i look this way, whatever you think i am insinuating about myself here, doesn’t mean i too am not shy or hurting. i put my pants on one leg at a time like everybody else. it takes courage to get over your head and all the mental psyche outs in it, face a room of strangers who all one by one down the gauntlet of a bar shoot why are you here expressions it’s a smack in the face hello the second you walk through a door. so my game is to look at the ground and scurry in unnoticed it’s kind of funny. i should float in like a fucking peacock but i won’t and don’t. in grade seven jackie asked me why i stare at the ground when i walk. i didn’t know i did that until she pointed it out. i guess i am shy. i avoid all eye contact with men too. so many moments i let pass by. hi hot guy that is totally my type see you again never. i feel like the top of my head is burning hot, too much attention all at once, can’t deal. what are you supposed to do out here, walk up to one of those high tables and address all four guys at once, hello, hi, here i am hi! fucking awkward.

then all the dudes in my mom’s peer group cockblock the shit out of me. i think this is my problem, i’m in the wrong age group. i’m too old and too young at the same time. the suburban guys see my mom and want to impress her instead of me because they (wrongly) assume the apron string is tied around my waist still so they answer her two thousand interview questions and there is absolutely no shutting her up after a glass of pinot, then everyone is watching the big clusterfuck of these two lohans. mom if you mess with my game tonite you will pay.

haha i like how i started this post about my suburbanism wisdoms and turned it into how much of a victim i am. i think i might have aspergers, someone suggested that. why am i so brutally honest? i am? yeah emphasis on the BRUTAL and then maybe you have aspergers. no way i refuse that possibility because i fancy myself an intellect here and only idiots say things that they shouldn’t. yes i am being “funny” as i know i say so many things i shouldn’t. i am irony incarnate.

i am on my period right now so i know not what i do. FREE PASS.

and now i must prepare for C O U G A R C R A W L. watch yourselves.

in summation, city people stay single longer because they think they can do better, or that there is better but guess what, they can’t and there isn’t.

crazy dream

It’s been a while since I had a Raymi dream, but I had a doozy. It’s not sexual!

I was in the grocery store buying supplies to make sushi, when I spy a neon orange toque out of the corner of my eye. It’s you, wearing the hat with an army print jacket. You come up and tell me that if I am making sushi, I need to add rice vinegar. Then you invite me over to your place. I come over and you’re lounging on your bed and the room is dimly lit with a blanket for a curtain. (this is pretty fucking detailed. how do i remember this?) You ask me if I want to shower with you, and I’m confused why you’d want to shower with a gay guy. But you convince me, and we’re in the shower, and I’m trying to be as modest and respectable as possible, but you’re sitting down in the shower wearing booty shorts, and lighting up a bong. I tell you I can’t be around pot smoke because it makes me paranoid. You call me a baby and I run out of the bathroom and close the door, giving you your own private Jamaican hot box.

Then suddenly the dream flashes to a TV studio, at a taping for “Raymi’s New BFF” And the host is interviewing a row of brunettes, and I’m backstage with you, as you size up the contestants. You’re busy on your blackberry and wearing a giant, poofy translucent pink poncho.

Analyze that please.

-DS

analysis: THIS IS FUCKING HYSTERICAL

you must be bored by everything in life, seen this, done that, poor thing!

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when i tweeted this photo from the train along with “Doesn’t matter where I’m going as long as I’m going there.” it received 130 views within seconds. i thought it was a glitch. or the time of day (around eight) or maybe it was because i had been relatively quiet on twitter, or i had said the exact enticing thing to nab people into clicking on my photo, and then the photo itself, and then i thought, who cares? why do we care? why are these social media things so important? kind of revolting a bit. all the racket and fuss and smoke ‘n mirrors going on on the internet to arouse big companies who don’t really know their ass from the elbows about engaging the youth of today but lets hope it keeps rising like the dot com boom where everyone thought they were a millionaire and acted as such for a time until it all went bust.

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me right now. good morning this afternoon. i’ve had insomnia the last two nights.

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but i’m getting skinnier. how many times do i say that in a month? don’t answer.

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that’s what unwashed hair for days turns into, a sculpture.

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passive aggressive love note? yeah that’ll really woo her.

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i basically came out here to take a shower and to visit my nana. which we’re doing today.

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went out to dinner with my poor sick pop last nite in the craziest downpour, we were soaked in the short walk from car to restaurant. cozy inside, we eventually moved tables to be by the fireplace after i asked it to be turned on (for him) then were seated by the loudest weirdest conversation ever. smooth criminal type chat comin’ out the mouth of a salt of the earth type, blue collar, yet, could tell the guy was loaded. fascinating. well, fancy that.

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i feel ruder taking photos in a restaurant i’m not actually reviewing even though i intend to review it anyway it’s just not “official”. no one says anything, they only mildly care but there is always one face in the crowd just dying to make a comment. it’s usually a woman who is starving and unhappy to begin with.

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i’m not flashing, i’m not building a diorama, none of this has anything to do with you so stop staring if it bothers you so much. the same can be said to those who “hate” me and my bloggggggggg. you nosy busybodies with nothing up your own sleeves, this has nothing to do with you, at the end of the day N O T H I N G so whatever excuses you have about me being a trainwreck, doing this doing that, my family, my friends, they’re not your family or friends fyi and if you’re soooo much better than i allegedly am, why don’t you make your own famous blog then?

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oh because i don’t want to, we don’t need to, we are busy at our jobs and with our own lives. ok cool then which brings me back to my original statement, if you’re so busy jocking your own shit why you all up in mine all the time bumbaclot? i am sucking my teeth at you right now. you spend so much time talking about me, i threw you a party and predictably you didn’t have the nards to come so then you talk about it as if you went or knew someone who did? that is amazing-level of pathetic right there. i am measuring you in inches, your chatter, it keeps coming, it doesn’t even matter what you say anymore you just keep saying it because you are obsessed and i guess your lives are lame? you are not fascinating, you are predictable and tiresome, you are the aids of the internet combined with ant infestation. you are the ugly wallflower geek at the party who just can’t figure “it” out. in elementary school you were bullied so now you bully. (it’s not my fault your finger paintings sucked).

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not one pussy hater showed up to my party. they’re trying to piece together a story about it from the scraps i’ve mentioned on my blog and spin their own version. pfft. they’re going on about how basically it was a spectacle, me in that dress and hair and all the food and booze and my stuff. guess what re: spectacle? THAT WAS THE POINT IDIOTS. thank you for proving me right.

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do you know how many dysfunctional families there are on the planet? every single one i don’t care how perfect you think yours is, it isn’t. a lot of work goes into making a family appear to be perfect, wasted effort really as no one’s happy but anyway i’m just a genius who saw excellence in my own and decided you know what, these people are interesting so i’m going to homage them in blog form. i’m going to share. do i get a thank you for it? no i get catty remarks and abuse. way to go canada you never fail to snub your peers. a popular slag is how i am going to turn into my mother and “ouch babe” um, can you show me a picture of your mother then? you’re the one so above and beyond obsessed by all this, if you’re gonna throw rocks like that you must have some sort of means of backing it up. i’m sure your mother isn’t a busted hag at all, i bet she kept it together like my mother has, i bet she works out, doesn’t smoke, puts an ass ton of lotions and beautiful pots of potions all over herself every fucking day. do you know how many of my raymi man fan club told me how hot my mother is? and i’m headed that way? am i supposed to be sad about that? at what point in all of this are my feelings supposed to be stung and why is it your mission to sting them? you also claim that the overall shock of the evening was how haggard i myself looked (seriously this is coming from one loser who was not there, knows nobody in my crew whatsoever and also none of them would even say that so this desperation to make me look bad is nothing but just that, desperation) um did you see how many photos i posted of the night? how can there be an overwhelming amount of coverage and photographic evidence of my looking like a disney princess yet somehow what i REALLY looked like was haggard?

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omg i look so old i better retire soon! and this is me at the end of the night when you’re supposed to be a wreck, this is me close to 3 in the morning after being up all day, all month no sleep pure stress so you can get fucked is what you can do little troll.

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not old. fuck it i’m not letting you peons get inside my head anymore about my age.

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black bean soup. very filling. bit bland but interesting taste. interesting in the vein of now why does this taste like this? i guess i’ll keep eating it to find out but then you never really find out you’re just kind of confused and unsatisfied.

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steak frites. dad didn’t have much of an appetite so we took it to go and i canceled plans with tim, just took’er easy. i didn’t come out here to party anyway.

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poorly executed. so much wasabi waste AND sriracha? why? wrong. take this off the menu i can only imagine what the 3 other sushi dishes look like. impossible to eat with chop sticks, with my hands too, the rice all fell apart. i didn’t complain. only to you lucky ducks.

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wearing two sweaters. so weird when it rains in this kind of cold. close to snow. my aunt calls it no no november. it’s a british saying my dad said. cute. bad weather, bad everything. it’s both my parent’s birth month too.

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the moral of the story is, someone will always hate you, no matter how right you are, you’re wrong, and ugly.

HAPPY WEDNESDAY!

if you can’t beat ‘em, blog ‘em.

put your hands to the constellations the way you look should be a sin you my sensation I know I’m preaching to the congregation we love Jesus but she done learned a lot from Satan

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we ambushed rob on saturday with snacks and rum and orangina. his place was a sty and it smelled of death.

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rum and orangina go so very well together it’s like the cheapest holiday ever. a holiday in your mouth and then in your mind once the rum takes effect. sign me up rummies.

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melodie read from a book about stuff we apparently like, we white folk and she judged the book appropriately as she does all things in life. does anyone even go to that website anymore? do books kill websites? or do we just gradually get over things yeah yeah we get it we like tote bags, funnnny.

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can you just give me this already?

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how do you even get laid? ps. the hummus from no frills is amazing, curry hint to it. will buy the larger one next time please remind me.

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cleaning up other people’s messes is somehow enjoyable and necessary. rob just sat around going yes or no to stuff mel would hold up and ask him where it goes or to toss it, he made a fire and the smell of whatever died, vanished.

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stuffing face. woke up at 4? maybe this was friday actually yeah it was cos i slept in so late after my party. this is me becoming human again, nourishment, booze and weed. kept thinking thursday was friday, i always mess this up and then saturday is sunday and i get emo cos the weekend is over so soon and then my friends are like, IDIOT, it’s saturday tomorrow. if you guys turn into famous bloggers this day confusion is so in store for you. do you know how awesome it is gaining a day though? i need a real vacation stat.

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hangover patch residue.

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gettin’ into it now.

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sort of abby. still working out.

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tastes like crap. good prop though.

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i then invited rob along to my next raymi eating adventure and he accepted.

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first i needed to go take some pictures of myself in this skidly bathroom.

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ew the men’s room.

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notorious food critic elitist guy cory mintz of the toronto star invited me over to dinner for his column FED (also it was his one year column anniversary to boot) wherein he cooks for notables and writes about the dinner (you, the food, the gab)(i’m a little nervous hahah the tables have turned). corey has cooked for steven page, dad! this is kind of a big deal.

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rob’s always up for a good exploit so took his ass along. that chick is emma, corey’s pal.

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mcneely was also on the scene. i was pre-told not to photograph the food. if my shitty camera made the food look bad then corey would look bad. that’s fine i was already intending to draw everyting in MS paint anyway (rob’s idea) as i showed him my archaic drawing bad blog and he goes, why isn’t all of this on your real blog, like, all of it? together? i have several other blogs too, and a tumblr. why i don’t aggregate it, hmmm no definitive reason for that but anyway yeah no food photos only for my own records and something to draw from.

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the menu:

Sweetbreads + Maitake

Testina + Broccoli + Cauliflower

Merguez + Israeli Couscous + Manchego

had to google all of this. rob was like what kind of wine do you drink with sweetbreads? and was googling it while i curled my hair as IF someone answered that question on the internet. i don’t think they did.

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i’ve been recorded a lot lately. totally changes how you speak and what you say, thank god, self-censoring is a good thing. my mother needs to be recorded at all times then.

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after awhile you forget about the recorder and figure what the hell i’ll just keep blathering. i asked corey if he takes people’s subtle nuances in tone and inflection and reports things out of context you know, to be mean. he says no. well i guess this saturday we shall be the judge of that.

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didn’t take me long to get nosy and open all of those drawers.

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no clue.

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pretty. we should have brought flowers way to go idiot.

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so organized. not surprised.

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far away food photo is ok right?

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the drawer’s revelations: closet nerd.

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good thing i brought a living nick fury with me to dinner, corey and rob are big fans.

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action figures NOT dolls.

FIRST COURSE: Sweetbreads + Maitake (mushroom)

sweetbreads are like the weird disgusting parts of an animal. why they call it sweetbreads is kind of a dumb mystery, supposedly funny? you gotta eat that shit fast before you start thinking too much. Sweetbreads or ris are culinary names for the thymus (throat, gullet, or neck sweetbread) and the pancreas (heart, stomach, or belly sweetbread), especially of the calf (ris de veau) and lamb (ris d’agneau) (although beef and pork sweetbreads are also eaten). The “heart” sweetbreads are more spherical in shape, and surrounded symmetrically by the “throat” sweetbreads, which are more cylindrical in shape.

it was delicious, only an asshole would give you sweetbreads that tasted disgusting. if one is to sway you to the weird side of cuisine they have to make it appealing. no one’s going to sell you on something like liver if it tastes like poverty. the “in” cuisine thing right now is to be bizarre and outlandish with your meats. go france.

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SECOND COURSE: Testina + Broccoli + Cauliflower

i’ve had testina before at Cowbell and it’s really good, basically pork, super fatty pork and little meat to it, it smells great and it’s, to me, humourous. the face of a pig. barbaric. lord of the flies. gruesome and terrible, now poshed up on my pretentious plate, sure why not.

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gearing up for round three and a bottle of wine for each one.

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was having a weird hair day had to use rob’s shower as adventurehouse, who the fuck even knows. only TODAY the hot water came back and i’m in burlington anyway.

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i couldn’t find the hello kitty toys drawer.

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camera bromance.

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THIRD COURSE: Merguez + Israeli Couscous + Manchego

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israeli couscous is essentially just big macaroni-like pasta balls. i had a second scoopful helping of that. the sausage pairing, excellent. everything was magnificent and not too filling (my one request i have a figure to consider). for dessert we had poached peaches (or pears?) in this caramel booze sauce (brandy?) things were gettin’ hazy and blabby by that point i’d draw a picture but it would just look like a pile of caramel goo. next time you invite me over to dinner and tell me i can’t take pictures and yer making something high-end can you sculpt it into something easier to draw like a hamburger i’m really good at drawing hamburgers.

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the booze shelf was staring at us piss tanks the whole time.

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yeah i’ll have whatever’s in that bottle of cologne please thank you.

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jen forgot her hat.

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could not resist taking pictures of these total wes anderson (steve zissou) wet dream right here no doubt.

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Thanks so much for the dinner invite it was really fun and indulgent. you’re a quick study, classy, and down to earth. I likey.

xo rlw

blogtourage

one more round-up of party photos then we move on k.

these are casie’s wild shots and there’s a lot.

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lucas’ hair is looking pretty cool these days.

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even afrim was there!

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appleton and cranberry. delicious.

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pretty girl nadia i want your headband.

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mom was trouble this night.

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talkin’ shit of some kind or other.

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cockblocked the photo i did.

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jennifer showed up in a blue sequin dress made me laugh so much (and happy) she is so hot.

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gill is lecturing me and that’s my buttoning it face. what do you mean you didn’t get me enough lemons, baby needs 12 lemons, SHOW lemons.

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i have yet to catalogue the leftovers.

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hot.

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oh my god i look ridiculous.

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appleton players. mmm mmm good.

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mr. tarek and his stylish bag.

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pre-dress explosion.

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one of my rock and roll moves on stage is to point a lot. hella pointing.

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and making that face.

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i would have danced more but i was nervous to knock things over with the tutu.

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oh i’m holding the dress together now cos the silver strap in the front tore right off when i bent over to put something on the stage.

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i’m singing a katy perry song.

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look how open that dress is. luckily i’m flat as hell and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before already.

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i wanted to go away and change, everyone was chanting ONE MORE SONG ONE MORE SONG and dad was like just stay one more song meanwhile i’m clutching the dress together red faced NO DAD LOOK! ohhhhh then the ball drops. i said fuck it and stayed up there anyway.

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can they see anything? hmmm.

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what’s with the look on my face here? michael was the first person to rush me once i stepped down from stage and he is straight stroking my ego so i dunno why the face, maybe i am overwhelmed by the praise and glory?

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that wine is moments away from being dumped all over that dress. steph laughed her head off, i was in it for um 20 minutes before two things made me change right out of it. hi chris!

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why is this photo interesting casie?

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scarjo dead ringer.

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kathleen kept flashing her majungas at me and i was like what??? why? i think she was showing me her necklace? anyway, in i went for the kill and this is the evidence.

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this blurry little miss yen i think i have a crush on her.

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mom did you take butterface home?

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i love that you wore the crown as if there could be stopping you.

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queen of narnia witch hair. i need a sleigh. when does the second narnia come out also the second in the golden compass trilogy also do you know of some 13 year olds who will let me watch all these movies with them thanks.

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embarrassingly, one of my (several) family nicknames as a kid was bum bum lauren and there is even a song to go along with it. skinny gawky kid with a hilarious badonk ass. thanks for the complex!

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mer and dayna. thank you for dressing mental dayna HUG.

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i forget who the other fox is but fox all the same, thanks for coming. i made a few eye contact moments with her but was too shy and insane to pursue it. i was like martin short in father of the bride, dramatic, all over the place.

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more family secrets. uncle mike won dinner at cafe du lac. he gave away two fishing trips. lucky ducks.

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family kept winning everything particularly my mom, then dad, then aunt, then uncle so i kept ripping through tickets and everyone really wanted the torontoist gong show to win the fishing trip. i think i was up there for twenty minutes until it happened.

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he won the rum.

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i am dragging it out, matching the ticket numbers, his name, telling him his prize choices.

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she must be calling maury povich or something haha. she just won a boat trip. look how happy she is. that could’ve been you.

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hi carly three quarters of the blondetourage reunite. casie came up with the best word for the blog show, it’s this post’s title. she said it when i showed up matter-of-factly, this is your blogtourage. hahaha nice we’re like a hip hop video with every person from the neighbourhood standing around flossin’ it to fill space. perfect. thank the universe for bipolarisms and people who think in them like me, we give the best copy.

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aw i love cam and wendi. my brother looks like he has something important to tell me.

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one of these people i may or may not have picked up at my gym.

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ava and her wig and her dress awwwww.

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no, wrong. wrong bar wrong. do not wear those at my party girl why would you ruin that outfit? kind of cute in a kooky way i get it but, sigh, this isn’t a pool party. still i love me my freaks so i am giving you a green card one time only.

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classic raymi outfit i kept tripping all over the black crinoline.

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bringing it home.

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too late.

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oooh yes.

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money money money.

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cheese forever. thanks again guys. i am bowing right now.

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ugh your hair mer. hate you.

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me mem ememe. casie i can’t wait to go to the you party.

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cheatin’ off the lyrics sheet. i know these songs inside and out and when you get up there you’re like uhhhh.

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go adventurehouse.

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syd you’ve turned into quite the woman i dunno why but you seemed all tiny when we first met, more kidly? i am complimenting you here. you have a jhonen drawing tat omg.

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ok guy the secret’s out, i actually threw a rave.

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steph has a tshirt addiction.

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and a raymi addiction.

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the next decade jam my hair will be even bigger. there, it’s in writing.

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crystal came. love that girl. she can put ‘em back. one time at the central we were talking about boozing and then basically made 30 shots while standing and talking like gentlemen, jen was there too, can’t drink as well as we guys and she was completely annihilated by 4 or whenever it was i got out of there though crystal and i were cross-eyed, still goin’ for it. there’s photos. i am not bragging or proud of my liver’s abilities here, just sharing. i watched that irish leap year movie yesterday and all the little irish drunks in the pub were so endearing however no, i do not intend to end up like that.

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that chick, forget her name, maje raymi fan.

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givin’er til the bitter end.

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something to go.

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someone is pumped. sell it on ebay.

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weirdest faces ever picture. why am i making that face? i’ve never made that face before.

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i am containing a bout of laughter no doubt.

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eyeing this jealously.

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look at the smug. i hope it gets you laid.

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best bags.

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david and rob came to buy us milagro shots. why not keep going.

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we played kissing tag.

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i do this elaine benes GET OUT kick when my brain cannot get to my mouth quickly enough so the gambs express what the mouth cannot. just stand back.

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hahaha. when i get near italians i turn into one. happens with jews too. and polaks. and kitty cats.

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how you holding up kid?

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on way to corey‘s interruption.

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i made fun of rob’s wine, so i bought a more expensive one, with his money cos my wallet was lost in the couch and turns out, his wine was my favourite of the night.

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russ is a sexy m’fer.

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kinky casie.

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who would win in a fight though?

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and, who is crazier?

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merry christmas.

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oh jesus. who is this guy?

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self timer. we, are, working, here, people. duhhhhh. oldest (newest) excuse in the book.

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dance dance point point dance dance point point this concludes my how to dance tutorial.

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to adventurehouse.

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amazing.

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oh yeah.

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what a perfect way to end this post.

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my room is still trashed. avoiding it.

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no, this is the best way.

xoxox thank you everyone again and again. now back to reality.

ten years of this bull$#*!

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raymi party review. still recovering. i am pleased it’s all over now, i can breathe easier and i am less high strung.

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disney princess tea sampling. melodie made me some witchy tea for the swag bags.

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forget what she blended, tasted lovely though. i’ll find out.

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shannon put eyelash extensions on the ends of my lids. subtle.

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smirkinator. oh this? yeah i just rolled out of bed like this. gym guy showed up with a crew and was like you. are. outrageous.

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dr. robert play wrong bar. the hilarity (amazing) writes itself.

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i told my dad it was going to be like the cavern club for him. heh. they practiced a surprise for me, first jam was birthday and they changed the words to it’s raymi’s anniversary! for they say it’s your birthday. i gave’r. dancing in that dress was kind of fun and i dunno, total spectacle. everything is amplified.

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i found out the dollar amount worth of cheese. you would faint if you knew.

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john hastings. bravo. my brother loved him.

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behind the scenes with palais royale. that’s lox, crem fresh on potato pancakes. i served a tray to the room. the other stuff over there i forget but you got a little ladel to scoop it in your mouth. very delicious.

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michael nus wrote the most flattering post ever about how fancy i made wrong bar. “I was actually taken aback by how classy Raymi made the reception.” i love that “i was actually taken aback” good. shock and awe people.

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and then these guys. palais, you devils. served these with some kind of jelly compote to dip. fab. phenom. etcetera.

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worker bee.

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dad look your gear placed on notorious punk hipster stage. fantasy memories for days right?

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my girls. love youuuu.

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got me ripped these guys. torontoist gong show. i look rtrd’d.

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my little ginger.

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classy amber, she’s so wee. need to hang out again soon girl and catch up.

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tarek looked SO GOOD with his murse. any man carrying a satchel is HOT. i do love me my fisherman lumberjack manly men types (so do) but i will always have a huge spot for those metro elitist stylish guys. you need to be able to be both like how a lady can be a lady and tramp, sporty, feminine and so on.

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assistant two, emily. very big help. i hope you guys enjoyed yourselves at least a little. mandie was assistant one. writing you a glowing recommendation for future whatever. haha robert downstairs at cindy’s bday gathering was laughing at me for having an assistant. they’re all older than me kinda revolutionary fight the power/system types and all get a kick out of someone like me with my internet and my photos and my BLOGGING anti-traditional bullcrap so after like a solid half hour of snarkily inquiring into what it is that i actually do i say i gotta go i gotta call my assistant and tell her something and robert just howls with laughter as i am trying to collect my silly putty brains and get out of the place to my awaiting cab. yes i realize how ridiculous it sounds to hear “my assistant” coming out of the mouth of a platinum barbie outfit (pink turtleneck nipple city) mental case you just met but so what, that’s reality.

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shannon helping me into dress two. i disappeared and changed without telling anyone. she also brought me outfit 3. she is amazing. she made my hair. taking it all out was really funny and fun kinda lucas and crystal did it while i sat on the couch in my room while everyone was crammed into my bedroom about 3 in the morning?

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blue hair won a boat trip. my uncle let me raffle off one more for the torontoist kids they kept screaming FISHING TRIP! FISHING TRIP! meanwhile everyone in my family kept winning shit. i was up on stage forever going through tickets. eventually it was like ok you win a pile of my shit, go get it.

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two suave brown guys at howling hour. kodak moment. both watering hole proprietors. russ made not my dog. do you know why it’s called not my dog? has something to do with peter sellers, pink panther. you figure it out lazy.

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this is when the pictures get good.

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i didn’t even get a gift bag after all that nor did a lot of my inner circle buddies. also a bunch of rum was stolen.

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this is total wedding hair man.

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my hair was so big i didn’t even know they added a yellow flower to it. bob’s wife (in my dad’s band)(he and my dad have been buddies for FORTY YEARS) erin gave him a box of feathers and a tiara and a pink sash. i stuck some feathers in my hair for a bit. mom wore the tiara heheh. i referred to her/myself as the lohans when i told her to get away from me/the stage at one point.

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bunny bought me that diamond harajuku comb when she went to japan a few years ago. i love it more and more each day.

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steph, massive help and crucial support system i love you and you were so funny all night long getting hosed and making comments about every situation running peanut gallery commentary bahahaha.

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very end of the night before we left. sent all my crap with the assistants to adventurehouse and we hit salvador darling before last call. we were a traveling hilarious circus.

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and we brought pickles. left them there for the bar too. my generosity is never-ending.

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shall we then…

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no clue who the guy is that’s pulling me?

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sure why not.

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omg look at his face he must be wasted and thinking he’s hallucinating and what luck he has.

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does this even require captioning?

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this guy just kept going we weren’t even paying attention anymore and steph interrupts our drunk yell competition to say excuse me can you please look at that? he was whipping his own ass with our flowers and bucking.

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nothing shocks me anymore so i was just like, ok sure.

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just another day.

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i was so gassed i was thinking the peacock was a person beside me and i kept apologizing to it.

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and i was adamant about everyone knowing i had this exact same horse as a kid, it was my mom or dad’s before that? it was orange. we drew all over it with crayons and now it’s in my nana and papa’s basement the springs have been put through so much torture you pretty much touch ground on it.

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can you picture me at an equestrian resort in riding outfits? lucas said that the look that’s in right now for men is fishermen, a departure from lumberjacks, and for women it’s riding clothes. rob was wearing a fisherman sweater last nite which is why he brought it up. then he asked me how i felt about that. i agree is how i feel. i’ll go into it more another day though does anybody actually care what i think about fashion? yes? ok good, raincheck then.

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this made me nervous she went so far forward so many times. do not interfere with nature. that’s the national geographic photographer’s code, a quote that kinda got misquoted in eye but it’s ok the point is if a gazelle is about to be taken down by the lion you have to let it happen on its own even if you want to help it, that’s how it works in nature so for the same token if someone is trainwrecking, just watch. a bit shit heady yeah?

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i am either singing or saying something that i think is funny. nope, that looks like i’m beltin’ one out.

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mmm hmmm.

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i was trying to dance pose ride that thing.

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great form.

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it just keeps going.

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this is so photoshopabble masthead eh david. aaron. me sliding on ice or slipping on a banana peel.

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thank god for digital cameras eh.

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casie i cannot wait to see your shots. you were a huge ass help to me, i love you more and more every time we hang and collaborate. thank you for trying to public relations my mom away from the stage hah.

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took this so i could see what it looked like (so dark in there) so i could then make fun of myself on my blog about it. it’s not even that funny. like, at all. great!

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dance boogie face captured.

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partied out?

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i do NOT look 31 a-holes.

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thank you very much one and all. it was a great time. i’m sure more and more stuff will trickle in, photos, stories, who knows. i am still recovering. did i say that already? my next project to be hyper-focused obsessed with is my book. very excited for dinner tonite at corey‘s. i’m bringing rob. jen will also be there. must grab a nice bottle of wine and prepare my outfit, charge camera and also shower at rob’s as we have no hot water in adventurehouse.

decade done

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these are my mom’s pics.

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bahahha.

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birthday present from tarek. thanks!

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thanks to shkank for the fab fun dresses. thanks to everyone for coming out and celebrating with me it was a blast, think we pulled it off eh? love you all. i’ll post all my pics and casie’s later. xoxo