lets be tomboys together


aw nice i got the one birthday balloon.


sparkles everywhere perfect for the narnia ice queen that i am.





wonder where they all landed. ha.



hey it’s nuit blanche!




the kids are alright.



i lost my every accessory upon coming into the periphery of hailey and mary lynne. oh well. hailey even made off with my handmade sock slippers. i am a sucker. she does it to my mom all the time too.




my outfit was pretty ridiculous.




my old world map, from whence i came, rohan welshy.



my hair was also a disaster. i never learn. too short to crimp!


found a legally blond pink little blazer in my aunt’s goody bag of give-aways. her clogs too. pumped.


guess who’s getting minx nails this week.





oh you two.


dear aunt alison

subject: clogs

they fit perfect

i have a distinct memory of them from when i was four and i first put it together that you were a cool bohemian vibrant chick. they were in the tiny smart foyer of cedar grove and i was playing with the dollhouse or something on the floor. i think it’s great i now get to wear them.

you just aided me in the breaking of 1000 hearts this upcoming summer. i hope you are prepared to take on this guilt like a good comrade.

cant wait to dive through the rest.

duncs says hey,

love lauren.


They are the most comfortable things in the world, I swear. They’re Aldo, I just can’t get past them being white and they make me feel like I’m a little kid playing Nurse/dressup or something.
On you, well, you know.
The red beret was given to me by a genuine anarchist, she was one of a group of people who had been squatting in Europe in the early 80s, mainly Spain and Berlin, doing street theatre. They were roomies for a while in the warehouse on Front Street.

Have a great visit!
Cheers and love to you and yer Dad too!

always with the dancing.

have a chill. time for a hot bath. i leave you with this item. almost too embarrassing to post. almost. footage of one of my last long hair nights.

photos from this day/night/period of twenty four hours.






bath time. then oscars!

turn my sorrow into treasured gold


hi there now, Burnoutington hangover sunday nest reporting, making contact.


this was a surreal experience, bittersweet on a quiet beautiful snowy night, all the women in tiaras, on her birthday. everyone holding a balloon representative of a year of this special woman’s life. that’s two times this month i’ve held a symbolic white object to form a human body birthday cake.


grief and love. sometimes you just don’t know what to say.


my bro and i as the twin towers. an appropriate familial stance. i jacked the term from darius, alright alright.


her kids are kind of awesome and now i have new friends. in burnoutington! the cast of people here have been friends since they were in kindergarden, neighbourhood gang. like how we were on falconer. one of their brood, a key member, is who they lost.


we celebrated her 50th here 3 years ago. the sign rachel made for her mom for it, in pristine condition.


rachel’s bf reminded us of my ex, the one with a camera and a black shirt, saying nothing much really. he’s a cool guy though, nuked one of the hundred dessert brownies i ate. oh god. i actually barfed last night after all of this. i am a binge eater. i should be on one of those shows. my brother and i and everyone gorged. i don’t even want to show you the stacks of food we created thank god i am not italian if i had to go to family functions all the time (and they’re all the time cos the family is huge and everyone’s married with babies by the time they get their periods and then there’s christenings and other ridiculous bullshit and food is how these people cope)(please invite me to something hah) i would be violet beauregarde as the bloated blueberry.


i left my camera cord at adventurehouse so i can’t use any of my photos at the moment. but i took tons.


here i am staging the kids on the couch for an impromptu shoot. my little proteges.


ML and i. nice shot linda haha.


aw look at little hailey. she and mary lynne were my little groupies. ML wants me to come up with a nickname for her and held me to it since i last saw her at the funeral. she looks like dakota fanning and she calls me Bluren, my old nickname. i think i am going to exclusively hang out with teenagers and kids from now on if i can help it. i took a ton of photos of hailey, mary lynne and c (bro’s gf’s son) all looking super cool on the couch in the livingroom can’t wait to look at them. ML gave me her email too. email buddy!


had to get my dad and bob out to the balloons, gave them each my two so i didn’t release any. i was too hyper about capturing the moment and my camera battery died as the last balloon floated up out of sight, i got just one more shot of the group and then it died. a sign?


feeling like a heffer i went to the firehall with the gang, my lady gang. the (instigator) guy here has braces. i asked who this polish nightmare was to his table of buddies and they diiiied laughing. they assisted in the aiding of that joke though cos one said here he comes, wearing track pants. i am a comedic expert. use what other people say to build off of. this woman? i have no idea who she is but she taught me a better version of blowing kisses, trashiest version ever. you slap your ass and then do it. ahaha sick thanks.


sang so much last night felt like actual work. killed it. i sang lulu’s to sir with love. that’s how you work the crowd over in the beginning, old school. then i did cry me a river (also amazingly, freestyling the in-between parts from memory) um then i did don’t let me down and then i did the shoop shoop song. i sort of helped robin do cowboy (not really) and she won $25. i won $50 and my mom flipped on the manager. the guy who won sounded like pots and pans falling down the stairs as he butchered fight for your right to party. i booed the entire time. the manager was like i know i know he sucks. anyway, guess who is hooked up indefinitely at the FH now? i said look it’s not about money i don’t care, me and these ladies we just want to be looked after when we come cos you benefit after the fact on facebook, plus the place is crawling with men too, and i am bringing a pack of women. i had a billion coasters with my name on it in the draw (it’s a draw so i am basically whining about not guessing the correct number of jellybeans at the church bazaar)(ooh how do you like that reference?) but also, all the other regulars, AND karaoke ringers were pretty miffed too, and used-feeling. seriously if you heard this jack ass sing (you call that singing?) you would barf diarrhea rage too. he was also wearing a stupid hat.


a friend of my cousin and blog fan (hi thanks for the peppermint schnapps that made me retch at 4 in the morning) was there and came at me with open arms and me being the desperate affection-starved fuzzy angel of cuddles stepped right into her arms not knowing who or what she was but her face was adorable so i went with it but at the same time she is going I LOVE YOU you’re amazing blog blog etc ahahah please keep going. anyway she was like, i told my friends and husband about you, this girl, who is like, probably at the firehall tonight singing and drinking for free so that you can write about it the next day. i just sat there and laughed kind of, yeah, yeah, you are kind of fucking right. pegged. meanwhile i am clutching the $50 gift card i just finagled for myself.


a friend of robin’s kept calling me courtney and i kept thinking he meant my friend courtney who i saw two days ago (ahahah seriously) and KEPT going WHERE? and then i would remember he meant me, as in courtney love. then i’d get mad and glare at him.


it was hard to have game with those rubber boots and mc hammer pants on but i made it happen in the end i think. i forgot my jeans and real outdoor shoes.


i became notorious “blond in bob marley shirt” instantly. brother’s gf’s son said i was his hero for wearing that shirt. i forgot how powerful rock shirt statements are and how cool influencing important to kids. i said to my mom, how do they know it’s a bob marley shirt the name is cut off by my pants. i think rasta colours are universally known. i think the person in life i am fooling most, is myself. you mean, I’M NOT INVISIBLE?


i assume every single female staff member is a lesbian or, they will be when i am through with them. i may or may not get flirted with by some of them.


the hot one is one of the managers, not the one i whined to. she took care of us last week and sent shots over this week (beginnings of polar bear peppermint throat destruction when passing in the other direction) and it’s too bad you can’t see her heels. girl has it going on. ha look over her head.


moms was gettin’ crunked. i plan to stop all drinking this week so this is an appropriate send off.


i used to stack our shot glasses at central like this after doing billions of them with people, fun to photograph. this look i dub rasta princess.


my little lois. she was givin’er. i think we might just have to go to an actual nightclub. where should the cougar pack make its next jungle?


definitely channeling some courtney. guess how many times i had to talk about my fucking tattoo yesterday at the FH. ughhhhhhhh. a blythe doll! a what? A BLYTHE! WIFE? NO! DOLL A DOLL!


and exhaustion despite a nice long winter nap.


my Ruler of Rohan outfit. rock and royalty. a term i invented yesterday so remember that when it gets passed around. bona fide bipolarism.


blackberry shots.



ok bye bye now.

Bloggy girls in a Barbie World

pahahah this is so behind the scenes magic hilarious to me i wish i had photoshop so i could make glitter sparkle frames on some of these.

FITNESS IS FUN! GO TEAM! WHEEE! actually you should get a load of my nail polish right now. it’s barbie pink and called PINK LINGERIE. i’m regressing back to jem and the holograms barbie rock and roll star stage playing barbies with brooke and making them f— attack each other. that shit goes down how fast, ten minutes?


choreographed dance routine will turn into aerobics video, it’s from my jazz class. casie has a dance background too. she can do the splits. and push-ups standing up, using her hands as feet.


bitch get out of my shot. woah look at the love making sesh about to go down behind me against the wall there.


we got prematurely sweaty before the globe and mail girls arrived. i wanted to get my work out in, james trained us after the interview anyway. i was like, you do not know working out until you’ve done it with cake face. i look like a white cake dripping with sweat at the end. casie was SOAKED. can’t wait to see what they use of us.


i love weights and working my arms now.


casie is wary of it cos she’s turning into linda hamilton.



hair obsessing.


then we figured out to tuck my shirt in cos i was walking around in a psycho whiny circle vortex. mega-entertaining.


i held casie like a baby and used her entire body to do a few curls. honest.


putting on aerobics clothing is hell. all these tight taught elastic banded compartments that scrape at your skin and make you feel like a blob sausage. it’s important to be tight though cos you move around and sweat and to answer your question krista no my socks don’t fall down. they’re very tight.


good to go now.


fitness expo models.




they call me WHITE LIGHTNING. no, i mean, this move is called the thunderbolt pharaoh. you know what casie? we should just join a wrestling league. it’s all acting anyway right? fuck blogging. wrestling is where it’s at. how many people watch that shit and bet on it obsessively?


step ball change.


here we are in kidz360 where we really belong.


cute bow casie.



my sixty minutes moment. when i sat down here this is when rosa and kathryn looked at each other and mouthed/whispered blond girls so many views… hahaha.


doing a demo.


oh my form! look. hips are a bit high. i can’t help it i am a giraffe and my legs are three feet and two inches long. 38 inches. giraffe.


blabbing like crazy while james was being interviewed. got shushed a bit. everyone was talking while my interview was being done so i didn’t see what the big deal was and the music was blaring too.



you get to stare at stuff like this when you’re going through your own torture sessions.

ok bye now. i get to wear a tiara and a rock shirt today for a wake.





hey skid row, how are you feeling right meow? headache? hung? well good. that’s what you get for being crush fuck losers. no worries, you’re in good company. i myself, had an early night at my dad’s here didn’t get much drunk at all. i’ve been awake since 8am but i fell back asleep and then i woke up ten to ten. my dad wanted to sleep in and you can hear everything in this house from any direction no matter where you are there is no escaping noises, it’s basically a cottage here.


this is about the time i started gaining weight and i think i joined pof too. recipe for a winner right there.


i’m so chav i even have burberry bin bags. hype, in’t it boyeee.


ma jean janes.


that i am erupting out of. see the ass rip, i created that at the central on the latch of the booze cupboard. i was like oh perfect, melodie is just going to absolutely LOVE this modification to her special expensive skinny pants someone leant her! haha she fixed it and wears them now.


does someone want that last of the raymi mohicans bag? i know a cluster of fanatics whose shrines need an injection. i need to get rid of things too, the clutter is driving me insane.


this musician guy lives in my hood now. i haven’t seen him once since this day, no wait maybe i did at the central? that’s how we met. i cruised lots of dudes there. musicians. then they’d go back to play again, we would pretend nothing was up and meanwhile one of the new girls would be like ooh he’s hot, i’d be all, go for it i already hit it. hahaha.


we didn’t hit it though we just hung. there is a difference.




i drank that entire thing in two minutes. not even. i was hoovering feelings like crazy what was going on here hmm.


not mine. i ate mine so fast i didn’t get any pics.


no i think i did. ahh who cares. obsess much? i had poached eggs and roasted tomatoes.



is that me paying too? musicians live below the poverty line which is convenient for people who have something to prove, which would be me, 24/7.


i needed more fuel.


seriously are you retarded, aim for my head, you even have a screen to aid you and see me on. what a luxury i can only dream of the days to have a camera with a functioning screen again. and have you seen this jacket? it is missing. did you steal it from adventurehouse?


this hat was getting on my nerves at this point. sean is wicked, but i don’t like these hats. it’s something about the big button on the top or the design, it’s too THIS IS A HAT IN CASE YOU DIDN’T NOTICE for me. it’s like bam margera level self conscious.


and these what the hell do they think they’re trying to pull off here? we get it, that’s your side and this is their side. babies. (it does look really cool in person though).


i also have gorgeous hands. i do. secret: i look at your hands and judge accordingly. i’ll take a mechanics dirty mitts over some girl’s deformed stumpy fat fingers any day. you can be all hot shit you like but your hands, you can never change them. MEAN GIRL INSIDE!


then i nexted sean and went to hang with rob. here he is making fun of me in my room for the inaugural parkdale boys club meeting. melodie was there too.

the bonus hilarity of this is what he’s saying, actually took place. i gave him the keys to my blog for a week when i went to deep river to work on my book and people loved it.



these would be the unflattering ones of the batch.


rob‘s got all these one-eyed dolls hanging around. i wonder why or i mean, i wonder wheye. hahahaa.



the infamous eye socket remote wireless camera. i would be doing pr0n if i waz you. how surreal the experience for the viewer right?


what’s with my fluffy weird bangs?


checking on my fat levels.


what am i doing with my liiiiife moments. don’t you love looking in the mirror when you’re drunk on wine and stoned? soul searching.



my science experiment honey floating formaldehyde some body part or other.


i wonder if rob will give me this painting for my birthday? it’s coming up soon. MARCH 31.



i arrive to this. what hotel was i at? the thompson? forgive me, the night prior was sloppy and the one before that, sloppier. it was like i was on vacation in my own city. get ready to see me as a skeleton.


my gal jenny b. this hang was the second nail in the coffin of whatever bonds or sides one takes in a divorce, separation, you name it. we were both in the same position more or less. made amends. kind of really dig one another. lets do this.



i’m at my dad’s right now, i showed him some of these and he goes OH MY GOD SHE’S HOT yeah dad thanks i KNOW. christ. hahaha.


this night is how i became legit bredren with the sound academy. jenny had tickets for this dj she liked and so i didn’t bother trying to use any of my magic raymi beans to hook up the behind the scenes dazzle, so then i referred to the sound academy as the suck academy as a joke. then my broski was like yo dawg why you acting all messed up towards me and i was like yo dawg why YOU acting all messed up towards MEEE. we hugged, he said i can go to anything there ever like king midas, bing bang boom.


such a night.


it was like, walking around as a fucking torch. two torches. and have you ever been to the sound academy as a night club e-tard scene before? white strobe lights contact highs over and yonder. that scene in vanilla sky, tom cruise, the mask, the bizarre, so drawn to it.


my nails were bare for once. i might have subconsciously had them bare the night prior, britt’s birthday, at boehmer, my ex across from me at the huge group dinner table in the back. preferred bare nails.


oyster bay wine. look rob!



she helped me untangle my new vintage necklace.


pre-drank dance party on.


i feel like i felt so young then and right now i feel ancient. wah.


nice eyes! it’s safe to show this shit now cos in retrospect, babetastical!


skeletor at your fucking service.



my dad laughed at these and said and you weren’t even working out then. yeah thanks.


jenny melted my heart and soul. we had one goal in mind, to totally throw caution to the retarded f–ing wind.


i need to get a bottle of this.


these were the shoes she was wearing this night. i think we’re the same height, one is slightly taller than the other. might be her. anyway, she made fun of my socks and said men love toe cleavage so i left them at the hotel. with my camera. we only have pics of our hotel party.


this is the french whore outfit i wore in niagara falls on my 27th birthday.


just might be the skinniest i’ve been ever.


extremely agile too. i did a lot of yoga stretching at the red flag’s apartment and wii fit plus being skinnier just made me more energetic.



i’m sure i posted the betters of these before. but not all. more so just looked at them. offices at night are so 1980s.


was hoping to catch a prevert. i said it that way purposely. i can’t tell you why though.


strawberry shortcake sweetiepie barf much.


i love this girl. it angers so many too. isn’t that great!





that weed box of mine? gone. got it in the once at SA. second time at spoon? no chance. too cocky. learned lesson.



sexy time!





this is the stretching i did all the time. stoned. so good. magical stuff that stuff is. epic bangs much? much much? sorry i’ll stop!




so cute. do not deny the cute. you must get a scoop, to scoop the cute.


wow look what i can do!


eight hundred million dollar pizza. i was like dude i’m hungry but i can just starve i don’t wanna pay for this shit and she’s all money isn’t an issue. order up! jenny was also quoting ke$ha rhymes the whole time, tik tok, and it kept blaring on the hotel clock radio.





we got right retarded. with all due respect.





see how my bangs and top are platinum and the ends more brassy? that’s why i cut my hair. i wanted platinum only. despite jenny saying i won in the hair department.







RIP little weed box packed with amazing sess and one hitter.


boutique hotels just beg to be dabauched all up in.





miss my hat.



dressed to kill.



yummy. you’ve come to the right place.


the sign said no vacancies but she knew a way in.


and then we were at the central and black out ate veggie burgers and didn’t pay. look how miserable those girls are near us. aw. central dude staff loved jenny.


back to the hotel


hot messes. coming right up.


drunk haggling with the cab. this night was like $300 easily. cabs being half of it. go big or go homo.


that would be my drunk vortex sir minx-a-lot face.


these are the best shoes i ever bought.


our cabbie was trying to fuck with us too. i pretended we were both vancouver tourists he immediately tried to loop-dee-loo wild goose chase us and i snapped, oh no you don’t and he knew right away i busted him. meanwhile jenny’s feet are on the ceiling of the taxi.


amazing specimens at play.


jenny would be my one shit show wild bender friend and i am that to her. guys have a bro like this you know right. you tell each other month’s in advance a general zone of incoming to prepare one another for the impending hours of pedal to the shit show metal.



we made it to the hotel and lying in her bed completely blitzkrieged before the spins could even try to take effect i was in a cab off to the red flag’s before either of us could even get near the possibility of ridiculous sloppiness we might both regret and thus not be each other’s hurricane suicide blond.


i woke up like this, (no in his bed) and it took me awhile to piece back my night and figure out how the hell i had gotten there. i spent the day watching precious and being nursed back to health then went back to normal eventually throughout the week.

this concludes your retro raymi report.


blond punky brewster


the following is an email, subject: a love letter.

dear raymi,

i love your blog. i love seeing toronto in the back ground. i lived in the city for 4 years, and now i live in the middle of no where (rural *******) so i live vicariously through you.

i loved your walk down memory lane today. i get up to ontario’s cottage country a couple times a year (***** and ***** harbour) and i’ve also been the girlfriend in the spoke club. i’ve also puked in that bathroom – i actually burst out laughing when i saw that grey tile.

so thanks for the constant visuals of my favourite places. i am the queen of nostalgia and every time you mention or photograph a place i’m familiar with (i used to live and work in the annex) i sigh a million (happy) sighs.

keep doing what you’re doing. i so want to buy you a drink some day.










started writing a letter of disdain to our internet provider but then the technician showed up and jacked our wireless speed/fixed it. i’m still going to finish the letter and then say i’m going to publish it on my blog including their company name unless we get half a year of free service. they’re already comping march. anyway, here is my letter. the internet went down as i was trying to finish my last post and then my final last nerve was shot. i can only scream out motherf—-r into my empty room so many times.

tell me if this is too insane or not insane enough:

Dear ****,

I can’t tell you how angry I am presently. Well, actually I can, and will.

At first when your service went down in my neighbourhood (parkdale) about two weeks ago, I was mellow about it. I simply just went to my dad’s in Burlington and used his internet for a few days. Slightly inconvenienced. I am a city girl, a socialite, and it makes a difference if I am not in Toronto mid-week as that is when the majority of social functions/events take place. I came back this past Saturday as I had an appointment with a client. The internet was still spotty and slow, four days after the initial maintenance issue began. Fine, so I sojourned back to the suburbs for use of internet there, at this point I am about half as mellow now. I come back Monday morning and STILL the internet is wonky. This is frustrating for my entire city household, one of us is a student and the other’s, myself, livelihood depends on the internet. I am a blogger and I require internet morning, noon and night, I never get a day off. I write you now, it’s been over a week since the first hiccup in your faultiness to bounce back technically. I actually cannot pinpoint the day when the internet first let us down, it’s possible it began longer ago than I am thinking, no matter, it’s been bloody long enough as yesterday was the most frustrating day for me to play catch-up work-wise. I don’t think I blinked once staring into my computer monitor waiting for things to load and publish and send. It was brutal. I work from home, I do not want to leave my home to use internet in a coffeeshop.

Long story short, your technician just showed up and now everything is working fine and dandy and faster than ever. Job well done two weeks later. You are comping us a month’s free service it is my understanding. That is not satisfactory enough for me. I request six months.

I do not intend to back down from this or take no for an answer.

I will be publishing this on my blog which pulls in 10,000 pageviews DAILY. I’m sure many of those viewers are ***** customers too.

My roommates have lost many hours waiting on hold with you. I myself have lost many valuable workday hours. Two weeks to send someone by to remedy a service is unacceptable.

Also, the manner in which my roommate was spoken to by your customer service representatives while troubleshooting all of this is abhorrent, it would not have been pretty if that was me on the phone. While my other roommate has been inspired by this fiasco so much so he’s begun his own website called waitingonholdwith**** the majority of the content is photos of him, yep, waiting on hold with your company.

I look forward to hearing from you at your soonest convenience. Based on your track record, I will not be holding my breath.

Yours, RLW.

clearly i cannot at all do math or tell time. when am i?

btw i have a tumblr thing. some people when they are done here they aren’t actually done at all. they need MORE of me. there is never enough raymi.