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i think we have a raymi addiction on our hands

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wooh boy lemme tell ya, way too many aha moments lately.

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too much self-reflection and juggling, yeah that’s it.

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well i guess i’ll just show you then.

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some stories you can’t tell. not these though this is just me having dinner with my colleague like it’s nineteen eighty-seven. the teacher always gets a kick out of my “the colleague” statements.

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i find that i am always talking about myself and what i do because i am always around new people and they fiind it interesting so the vacuum of you continues.

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it becomes overwhelming.

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sometimes you forget who you are living for.

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people come into your life for small intense periods and then in a flash, gone.

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revisiting scenes of crimes i am guilty of. places, haunts. put a new face in it. let them order everything. pretend you never did it before.

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they recognized him here from the guu’s out west. i absolutely loved this place it was perfect for the time and setting and the roadhouse yelling surreal atmosphere. i want to take my dad and brother here. i think the speedy hyperactive vibe would be too much stimulation for my mother. sorry.

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look at the girl eating.

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the red flag and i ate at the location on church it was amazing.

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i look old. remind me to never do that again with my eyes. it’s ok i see chicks with crow’s feet and thanks to seldom smiling as a kid til well, 26, i have no face wrinkles really. maybe under eye lines.

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he’s seriously ordering everything he thought i said to i don’t think that i did, it was possible though. it amused me and was endearing.

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deep fried bacon. i don’t know the names of any of what we got, again, he ordered. fine by me i was a rake this night anyway and james at TMR the next day said i was looking really thin. meanwhile look at all this shit i ate.

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scallops.

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he spilled beer. this pose was his idea. i said i bet they think im gwen stefani looking for new harajuku girls. i was eyeballed walking to and from bathroom. red lips bow blond leopard print giraffe skin tight pants.

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i drew this in 2008 at lee’s palace. a lot of my drawings are in the girls room stalls. some really wicked burns too.

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i did some paintings of this drawing. sold them.

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that kavin guy was there. this was a british band, the big sea power? British Sea Power. i pay about as much attention to bands as i do art, remember i spent 5 years of my life in every single venue in toronto every night of the week pretty much how many bands is that again and more and more keep appearing. it was fun. older crowd. i looked hot. i danced, he danced.

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stage diving and crowd surfing i loved it.

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one more drink and i’d have danced on a speaker.

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two ernies cannot be together.

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this was the last night.

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reclaimed one of my swarovski bracelets from mel. gave her another one i don’t wear. problem solved. oh i just remembered to take pictures of my juices.

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kind of a savante.

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at night i turn into a jakalope. we have long razor sharp teeth. be careful boys.

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yeah don’t even say it i know i know.

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he claims his photos were better. no. though i look adorable i think bbming them scrunches them up.

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their kind of carbonara i had fun massacring the egg.

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serious shiksa bait. is there a section for shiksas on j date? i’m not jewish but i can try haha who was i making that joke with again? joke? more like serious.

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woah. serious village of the damned fucking nerd turd much.

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my papa has the same glasses.

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oh good morning astroboy.

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holding a photo of myself duncs and shawny on a paddleboat.

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they LOVED the tickletrunk. we like springing the tickle trunk on unsuspecting person’s once they see the lay of adventurehouse (we HAVE to start blogging there again party next friday april first) they walk alllll the way to my room and are like bang pow sunlight marijuana sauna sixteen candles.

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that’s my poor little rich girlfriend we have adopted. my ex brought her around to boehmer a few weeks back remember and he’s the one who wrote me from wherever in asia about seeing someone read my blog in an internet cafe weeeeeird.

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i hate how i did my nails. this dark grey blue is doing nothing for me except making me into an ugly cruella deville.

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my room is a cave witch cauldron.

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can a designer come and make my room over and the room beside it thanks.

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i am so the lion witch and wardrobe right now.

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seriously. through the cupboard to narnia.

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no i like the secret garden more. that abusive little sick kid who couldn’t breathe air spores so he stayed in his room with the curtains shut and then a chick much like me shows up and is like Fuck That and puts him in that old ass wheelchair and they break into the secret garden cos she has the key (how did she get that again?) and (i read this twenty times and saw the movie obsessively cos i didn’t like people when i was 12) then the little crabby rich heir was pissed when the girl necked the stable gardener boy (who always ran horses out on the moor oooh so fucking HOOOT) and um they closed the garden up cos the mother died but then it was ok cos they could all lie in the grass together holding hands the end moral of the story don’t let your suicidal teenage daughter watch it unsupervised. no just kidding. it is a bit of a wicked dragger movie NO ONE wanted to watch it with me ever.

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nice golden sun mmmm.

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that’s not even all of them.

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so the colleague and i went to beast. those asian dudes over there stared at me a lot. colleague told me i check people out way too much. can’t help it but i am going to stop.

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i was wasted after three seconds on prosecco.

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we talked about business. i did not want to. OFF THE CLOCK.

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that’s so mr. beany christmas turkey and i love the is this made by elves? mini bread loves.

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bone marrow. i am officially a wild beast animal thing. i will eat the inside of your bones. joe is going to cast me as a vigilante bikini clad psycho grindhouse gang chick in fact and i’m getting melodie on board anyone else interested? that’s pig’s ear on the side, could have given waaay more of that. tastes like delicious kfc. auld spot has a great pig’s ear salad.

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grilled bread.

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wow look at that oozy orange reddish wow. it was smokey and oh so good. fatty. melodie said it’s really good for you.

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later on at night though it wasn’t settling all that great in my tum tum. yes i said tum tum.

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i put the pig ear salad on the smeared marrow and it was AMAZING.

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my burger is under that egg. and those high-endy tater tot things were nice and salty and contagious i barely looked at the menu my eyes were super blurry tired so i think i convinced myself it would be sided with something light. i’m tired guys your hero wants a break i’m blind by nightfall zzzzz. sad face. no wait happy face on my burger of what i don’t know.

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lambs ribs. phenom.

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i’m getting my eyes checked soon and some adorable new glasses.

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hair GROW!

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i decided yesterday that i cannot be anybody’s anything right now. i am also doing (and have been doing) a vow of celibacy whether you believe it or not.

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i need a minxing break. taking takes a take on you too.

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i forgot my belt.

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there was no way i was eating that thing with my bare hands are you kidding me? so massacre it is. my favourite. reminded me of breakfast special at the white oak mmmmm going there again as soon as i get an oakville boyfriend.

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then i went somewhere where i was greeted with a HI RAYMI by the man of the hour on the front door of this art party ball. i was like aw shucks.

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i was alone. britt never got back to me. i was nervous. i walked around mildly inebriated sobered up from the cold. simon greeted me. i picked him up off casie’s blog in the comments. man of the hour catch.

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open bar. i was also supposed to be at the rockstar hotel party at the spoke club. casie went there she said it was amazing. arg.

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gorgeous art it girl person. i gave everyone categories of types.

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i didn’t pay much attention to the art. art doesn’t interest me. people, interest me. these art people. this crowd. i like to study them.

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here’s where it gets interesting. see that couple so obviously talking about me over there rudely right in front of me, i didn’t know i had captured the evidence which in hindsight is hilarious. this guy is informing this girl, his girlfriend, all about me. i could feel it, i couldn’t hear it but i pretended i didn’t notice and kept shooting all the random boring crap in the room meanwhile she is nodding at me at everything he is saying as he is gesturing at me it was fucking bullshit because i could see her getting a crash raymi course (which she is agreeing to all of like yep she looks exactly like whatever it is you are selling her as fucking RUDE) from this asshole who thinks he knows who i fucking am? you don’t know who i am.

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oh look mr. smug fucking asshole there he is again. this guy goes up to simon later on, dude, it’s raymi, that’s fucking raymi, in this way like i am the enemy. now, one, i do not know this guy, and I’M not the one walking around talking shit. simon and i are sitting on the couch i was just talking about my experience thus far in this crowd, and i mention this couple that were so clear as day speaking about me, simon asks who? i point to the girl in the red dress and he goes oh i know who was talking to her those are my friends, we make some jokes about me being paranoid then move on but it’s still in the back of my head.

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he sees it’s bothering me so he goes over to whatever the guy’s name is and before he can ask if they were talking about me (this is turning into bigger of a thing now and only because i’m kind if sort of his date, secret casual date and now my honour requires useless defending) he says the “that’s raymi” line and before no, it wasn’t slagging it was just, he’s starstruck. yeah right bullshit i so do not believe that for one solid second.

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he comes back, yeah he was talking about you and i think he sad you fucking idiot people can see you when you’re talking shit about them you know. girlfriend is like you’re such a fucking asshole or whatever i’m told. then i go to the bathroom and she and i pass each other awkwardly. this pair is going to be back at the after party so for the love of party it has to be sorted. gay right? i told him i wouldn’t make a scene or confrontation don’t worry, after i initially said tell me RIGHT NOW what it is he said because i’m going to confront him. that stressed out simon so i said fine i won’t i’ll just obsess and fester about it all night long and then write about it in some vague manner on my blog tomorrow.

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the only responsibility i am going to take on any of this is the fact that my reputation precedes itself, people in toronto are intellectual obnoxious hatery self-indulgent speak before thinking or knowing types and throw a notable person like me on the pile, it’s only natural to talk as much shit as possible about me until you move on to the next. i do not fault this clown.

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and then, what the fuck is this? should i drink it? you spent $40,000 on an ocad education for this? cool!

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if i were you i would just down this entire fucking bottle right now.

kidding jesus relax i am in a reageahol vortex over multiple things presently so just go with it and do not question anything. hang on tight.

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can you give me the cliffs notes of this please.

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yay poor john’s. that made me beam. i wonder if roxanne was there.

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i enjoyed the four cliquey art scene nerd chic chicks who were actually just nerds. the prettiest queen bee of the lot smiled a lot and the others looked kind of miserable. these are the things i perceive or invent, hierarchy scenarios and what not.

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i asked what it was he had said about me. he said i was self involved. self obsessed? one of those things. yeah well that’s my fucking job ok i actually went OUT to an art show, something outside of myself, something NOT about me to get away from me you know.

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other than that it was fun. i was the odd man out. i just actually wanted to go to my dad’s last night but britt reminded me that we rsvp’d to rockstar and the allure of this art thing, so i am kind of pissed and disappointed a little in my night. you can’t win ‘em all lebowski.

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the awkward continues. no just kidding. i just music hogged. i also invented a drinking game in the kitchen if you stood on the white kitchen tiles you had to drink. it lasted two minutes.

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i changed into pants. it was cold and my tights tore at dinner.

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there’s that girl again and i didn’t take this photo so hell no i’m not being flipped off.

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i cozied up to that beatnik chick for a minute. she was sweet. anyway, simon was like, i’m sorry about your life basically. you can’t escape it, this lead to that and the other and well yeah. the end i guess.

and now i vacuum the tickle trunk.

air freight

13 thoughts on “i think we have a raymi addiction on our hands

  1. the robin magically shows Mary where the key is hidden. Then the robin and Dickon basically tag-team Colin and Mary by showing them the wonder of nature and all that, which results in Mary losing her sass.

  2. Uhhh…WTF are you supposed to do when you go out ther than people watch the crap out of a place? Never stop people watching. Ever.

  3. People watching is absolutely entertaining.

    But that particular setting was intimate and perhaps needed more artful discretion at the time. “Beast” consciously places mirrors all over the room at sitting eye level specifically for the sport of it, passively.

    Raymi’s style that night was a half stop short of Bill Dance.

    My entertainment hence was watching Raymi watch others.

  4. Hey Raymi, I love to people watch! I think that’s why it is so hard to connect with people, because I observe how messed up people are in social in social situations. Anyways, I really wanted to know if you still talk to Suzie from Suzie’s secrets (blog) I originally found you through a link from her blog (now down). I don’t know if she’s ok….I hopw she is.

    Keep up the awsome blog posts! I have gotten so many people addicted to your site, we talk about it like episodes of 90210.

  5. this ENRAGED me because you are a HUGE SPOILED BABY GET OVER YOURSELF YOU COULD NOT HANDLE ACTUAL FAME IN ANY WAY YOU ARE MENTALLY AND EMOTIONALLY WAY TOO UNSTABLE.
    ‘other people’s opinion of you is none of your business’
    who GIVES a fuck what someone YOU DON’T KNOW or care about thinks about you?
    reading this got me very upset. it’s like you seriously think you are the only person who matters or is interesting in the world. get away from yourself only to make it once again ALL ABOUT YOU. jesus christ. if i were your boyfriend or date i would have been mortified to be with the crazy unstable psycho paranoid SELF-INVOLVED. if you pride yourself so much in being self involved then you should not give a rat’s ass what anyone else thinks.

  6. being right doesn’t make you paranoid. your writing is terrible and you have the mentality of an eight year old. other people’s opinions of me is none of my business!? ha-larious. everywhere i go it’s all about me, inversely, everywhere YOU go it’s about you, understand “enraged”? i feel like you missed the point here quite a bit. fuck off reno.

  7. XO couldn’t handle what you do or understand it

    however, I would think that someone who is constantly in the public eye might be overly hyper aware of the whispers of other people.
    There will always be people who attack & gossip

    It would be great to get to a place where you just know this, dump the parania, and just don’t care much.

  8. hey man, it’s her blog. relax. why would you come to somebody’s personal blog to complain that you were reading about them? obv. that’s what it’s going to be about dude.

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