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the devil won’t let me be

ok lets wrap up my bitchy beach shots and island supper.

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duhooooye yoye yoye hi!

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i read an insult about me being a cotton candy hair hello kitty heheheh that is SO not a fucking insult.

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my hairband is directly inspired/influenced by the hot chick from gladiator.

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i need more feather earrings. in this weather they stick to your sweaty neck and turn wet, like hair, so pick your moments wisely.

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it’s fun to trash on people secretly and you can see them trashing on you from their hipster blanket but also you are blinded from the sun and you kind of don’t have any clue what’s going on. beach bums. this one guy had all these hipsters accessories that one by one brought out (a clear glass bottle, label-less from his perfect brown leather satchel, boy scout cap…)

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went in the water just once. so lazy. having it close by really cooled us off.

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beach culture/style is my jam as surf hippie athleticism is the theme and from there is a whole treasure trove of fun nostalgic links: beach boys, surfboards, palm trees, suntans and freckles, sunshine, retro bikinis, archie comics, point break, convertibles, lots of dangly jewelry and beads and braids, bare feet, short shorts, ahhhhh.

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the mozzarella. gorgeous.

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LOVE their eating forest garden.

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i think i had a dream about my mom asking about my one pink thumbnail. did that happen?

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if you wear flip flops to the rectory, get them spraypainted gold or bronze. or just go to old navy.

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disheveled beach garbage washed up on the shore, put on a shirt from smart set (that i forgot at my aunt’s) and sassed up the ‘tude. good to go.

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leave the beach before the sun goes down so you can arrive like cocktail tom cruise in shades to dazzle camouflage your bloodshot eyes.

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leave the shirt open panama jack. everyone else can go fuck themselves.

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match your headband to your flip flops.

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we had the dessert. by this point you stop caring and have beach munchies. we had two espressos two 12 year jamesons two other kinds i forget the name of, A-something long and hard to pronounce. our waitor was befuddled by my magnetic charm. so was an entire table of drunk jock alpha boat dudes, one sucked his teeth at me aggressively when they filed out to announce himself as it was his turn passed the passive aggressive platinum blonde ignoring the single file beeline of 20 men while touching up her makeup. so i looked up to notice the second half of these guys. teacher was PISSED. then we watched a gorgeous couple celebrate some milestone or other she was in a lovely white mermaid shift and he was devastating.

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peanut butter torte. the yellow polish is rather fetching in some photographs. it’s called yellow kitty, but it’s milky and a bother to apply and wait to dry so i don’t wear it often. i think my best ever photographed nail polish was this aqua green shade i’ll get a photo of it in a sec. i am going to get minxed before i go to thunder bay hopefully i will have time.

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i lost this bottle of polish though. wahh.

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dreamy.

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worst hangover ever. the strongest beers. this was the first ever toronto beer week kick off event last summer. the week prior was beerfest down by the cne and we gave’r so hard there melodie broke her foot and i picked up a cop. i seldom drink beer therefore forget the brain soul-crushing hangovers you get from it, nevermind drinking 8-10% beers with belgium brewmasters and other beer connoisseurs. ginger and i were DEATH the next day.

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by the way he’s available plus we never boned so you can get over third degreeing him about his times with raymington. he has a condo in liberty village, is an engineer, fitter than a god, a car, a motorcycle, is 30 or just turned. funny, smart, goofy, blah blah climbs mountains! skis! official pimp out here. why WE aren’t dating or didn’t, you just can’t lie to yourselves regarding sparks and chemistry plus we went into the buddy/friendship territory straight off the bat. he’s a mega-catch and i know how hard it is to find these gems.

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here’s a better photo. ok moving on.

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hot for teacher’s legs. i’ll tell you about his knee scab later.

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the open air ferry is fun but annoying cos it goes to hanlan’s from ward’s and you’re like totally ready for the mainland by the end of your day. we bumped into a colleague of teacher’s who was awesome just coming back from the nude beach, totally jazzed about it and talked at us at mach ten. greatest guy.

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a very fun day.

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i love me a good sit when i can get one. where is your favourite open space to loiter in the city?

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this was that greatest guy ever’s fault and i was too polite to let him know. his bike’s back tire snagged my toenail, gripped and RIPPED it. teacher knew immediately but neither of us let on. guy knew he stubbed my toe. i am a lady and there is no need to make someone feel bad.

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EVEN WHEN THEY DO THIS TO YOU!

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and the best part was he came back on his bike while we sat on the front steps of that hotel and i dug through my clutch for a bandaid. he’s like hey guys you’re still here what are you prostitutes?? um someone has spent a little too much time in the sun at the gay beach haha but anyway no we’re just um, i’m, trying to call someone? i hid my bandaid beneath my blackberry for fifteen minutes while he blabbered at us and bled profusely, stifling pain wimpers and girlish tears. the rest of the nail came off the other night. it’s fine. i am resigned to the fact that i will never have pristine feet. they get a lot of abuse, work out, running, dancing, shoes. i have a good base so that’s fine.

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assimilate. it’s my only good shirt so i have to see my aunt again soon haha.

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i had the chickpea main. SO GOOD!

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teach had the bison burger. food is better at the rectory. thank god as it’s the only restaurant on the island.

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we amused our waitor with our odd orders. i am unconventional. nothing i do is ordinary. nor will it ever be.

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alyssa is my little raymi TMR bad ass ambassador. she is serious about this. has done boot camps, takes advantage of all the classes they have available, learned to better her diet via the nutritionist (i haven’t even done that) and has shed pounds too. she’s trim and toned and getting better and better. i on the other hand, well, look. i have photos of myself in those shorts from months ago and i am not as teeny as here. i can’t get over it. the other day james said raymi you look fantastic or something and i said yeah and it’s a fat day too and he says well i see NONE of that. i guess you don’t have fat days anymore just in your head and it’s linked to your menstrual cycle and eating guilt.

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such as this. essentially bacon and eggs salad. precisely that. following a charcuterie board. so much meat. i saw the words saucisson sec from the french menu and that was that. try to adhere to a vegetarian’s diet when you can for the digestion and health reasons, not politics. do vegans listen to ozzy?

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the creamsicle. boozicle. oj, chai vanilla (milk), vodka, shaken over ice generously, pour into freezer chilled lowballs. breakfast hair of the dog beverage, further take on the screwdriver and moderated version of the central’s creamsicle martini which is: triple sec, vodka, cream, orange juice shaken. sometimes i’d use milk instead for the skinny chicks, or just anyone. i am against cream. anyway this drink is always a hit. i’m a good bartender fyi.

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AND chef. applewood smoked cheddar, our own bbq jerk chicken that we marinated for hours, bbq char grilled red peppers with blobs of smokey chipotle salsa. high end nachos.

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oh right and i threw extra jerk sauce on it too. sometimes we don’t have to do it cos of all the food orgasms i give him. this photo was retweeted by lots of foodielitists. that’s a big section/portion of my brand. maybe i’ll make a circle graph (statistics are all made up anyway) raymitheminx.com is 34% foodie 40% tits 26% FUCK YOU.

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how come every time i buy or do something it goes viral? sigh popular girl probs. the second branch on the hot girl problems tree is HOT DRUNK GIRL PROBLEMS. it gets funnier and i bet when i do a set will go full on meta when i start railing on my mom and she’s in the audience at the time and i can look down and go MOM! in pubescent acne teenager face voice. do you want to hear some of my material? prepare to get russell peter’d.

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so like i realized that i was subconsciously turning into my mother to beat her at her own game. it’s my only defence against her. i think that’s why we all turn into our mothers so that they can fight with themselves eternally. then i talk about facebook and other shit. cannot spoil.

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the sauce bowl made me think of swiss chalet dipping sauce omfg and then we had some last night at teacher’s folks. it was kismet.

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emma’s last week.

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gym three times a week.

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carrot celery juice.

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at the marriott. all three of our room keys wouldn’t swipe. de-magnetized i guess. they sent up a hip hop drawlin’ guy who was just oh so cool after the second time i had to call down to the concierge and slammed down the phone, the ladies heard it down the hall but the concierge had hung up before that so to them i had dramatically diva’d struck again. lois laughed her head off.

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i will replicate this pose with another outfit.

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complimentary gold status buffet 6-10AM. this time i actually ate food then had the most energetic workout ever. i am going to have a bowl of cereal before working out from now on instead of caffeine and crazy.

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you’re not supposed to dine here if you’re getting the special status, you take it into another vip lounge. we didn’t know that but i liked eating out with the commoners cos of the sun that comes in the windows and high ceiling. when my mom came down we moved to the vip room which was also nice.

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ok that’s it for me today boys and toys. tonight i’m checking out the bovine cos my lady friend allison is doing a new night, i’ll be casing the joint for my next shit show. there’s a stripper pole in the back i hope still. i want to recreate a mangos type thing cos there’s a stage in the back and front and i’d like all sorts of shit going on simultaneously i think i’m club 54 now maybe these celebrities would stop dying if we had another one of those. i didn’t realize that was mike myers until the credits you know ahhaha. oh shit there’s no more stripper pole. :(

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allison is a penny laner if ya catch my drift. she has an amazing bowie tattoo on the back of her neck, is that the nape? we go back tons and she has big jugs. see you tonight!

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