I’m sorry you came here.

Should I do one of those year end posts? Do I even have anything to say to you guys (always) anyway? Did I learn anything worthwhile this year to warrant one of these things? Who even am I anymore and what’s next? There’s lots of pressure on bloggers to deliver, to have all these grand wisdoms (bordering on delusions) about life and lessons and I know I have my Little Raymis who look to me for guidance but when I clam up it’s like eeeeh now what? This year has truly been transitional for me. I’ve learned that people only want to know the dirty gossip, the deets. They like to see heroes fall and they love to talk shit. I’ve learned that I’ve spent the last 12 years of my life as a sort of performance artist and I put myself last way too fucking much. I am a pleaser at heart and I will go the distance for people who don’t deserve it just to see it through if anything comes back to me. It doesn’t. Well, maybe. I made my mark over-sharing and now I am afraid to. Funny that. I find that I am good at it, unraveling my Craymi stories behind the scenes delights my friends, frights them. I had a stressful month, couple, several of them. Lots of bad luck it has been hard keeping my head above water to be honest. Someone almost died and keeping that a secret has been toxic if I said who they’d lose their mind but I hope that was a wake up call. Someone lost their job and that affected everybody, everyone is crabby and in each other’s way drinking a lot to deal what I have learned is when it’s bad, it gets worse and keeping a brave face for the internet throughout has been trying. I feel like everyone goes through some shit it’s just a part of life but when you can’t see the end of the tunnel it does get pretty suffocating and for it all to go down in the winter, ultra challenging. Being stressed out of my mind made my period wicked late. I took three tests, all negz results obvi but yet the paranoia cycle frenzy that goes on in a woman’s head is unstoppable. Plus I’ve been eating like crazy. I figured it was just stress and lots of sadness but each day that passed it was like what’s wrong with me bro? Then I’m all, what had happened was I probably drank away my fertility for sure, for certain. Or I changed women circle cycles, chalked it up to cosmic witchery. The amount of times I cupped my breasts to decipher if they were a) fat girl breasts b) pregnant girl breasts or c) premenstrual breasts is uncountable. Being bloated forever when I am vain as fuck hasn’t been fun either and is at root the control board for all of my moods if I am body unhappy then you best believe I am upset. Plus no one even blasted in me TMI sorry but I’m saying whatever I want from now on this thing so deal anyone who is related to me. I’m tired of being afraid of speaking my mind, very tired. No matter how many bitches (and trust me there’s lots) talk shit about me on Christmas night in a bar I haven’t walked in to in over a year thus successfully destroying a would-be relationship for me. Friends, what I have learned this year is that people want to see your ruination. They love it. And after the year that I’ve had it’s like how dare they. I’m sure I have just as much dirt on these horrid women too but moving on I got my period today so I’m back baby. Kim Kardashian gets knocked up by Kanye, Raymi gets her period. Best day ever.

So, I put my wants and needy needs on the back burner the last little while. Not selflessly, just more so in a resigned fashion and going with the flow. Life is short but you shouldn’t rush things or flee all the time. You should face your demons and this is the difficult part. Acceptance. Accepting that you’ve been doing it wrong and it’s time to stop. The infuriating thing for me is the talk. I actually lead a pretty boring simple life these days IMO so making up lies about me is super hurtful. I don’t do that to people. I forget my own infamy sometimes I see myself as some quiet old man feeding ducks from a bench with Christopher Walken pants hiked up to my tits. I am not that guy. I am Raymi the Minx with an illustrious past and reputation and Toronto is a small-ass town and people like having me out of it. People going out of their way to sabotage me is a bitter pill I’d like not to ever have swallow again. But I will, and that’s that.

If you guys are going to learn anything this year, please for me make it that you drop the ‘s’ from anyway because anyways is not a fucking word. I hate hearing you say it and secretly suffer your stupidity. It’s all I ask for now, 2013 lets do this.


Here’s a bunch of random things I’ve tweeted over the passed week to whenever, scatalogically, out of context, order and… well here now. I’m the genius who thought of them right and not everyone reads my tweet-burps so it’s kind of like a new form of make-your-own poetry. Ownetry. There I just started “a thing”.

Buuuut Happy NYE guys! See you at the major ripper I’m bartending at tomorrow. I’ll mos def be shy as fuck so BE NICE. Tim “I’ve got tight white pants” Mccready is going cray bananas over the production of it — THEE party to be at tomorrow sorry to say (not sorry!) all my being boring the past oh, 4 days will have been worth it @_@ ILU Happy 2013 Wuhoo! Happy Sunday BTW too. The last one of 2012. My heart stops. Jarvis Cocker voice. Kay thanks BYE! Lauren O is the other Lauren ‘tending bar with me too btw. We will have multi-costume changes.

I am touched he took my smug prickster advice on the low-qual/effort means of a party flyer. Tim’s learned so little much from your hero. Yaymi!

Blankets are in.

How is a “the following movie contains nudity violence sexual activity blabbity blah” supposed to be any form of disclaimer?

Oh god vitamins empty stomach so stupid me

And NOW she tells me there’s no coffee

I’ll rinse out my spicy mouth with one right meow

I just ate a crumpet.

Listening to The Doors. Save me Jim Morrison.

I just elliptical’d it. Sweaty Mercury.

File under yeah fucking right. Apparently the cat has my flu.

Didn’t turn my computer on once at all yesterday. That deserves some kind of award and, I have a blackberry so with honours please.

Should I make a drink or a salad first?

What I have learned from my blog stats/people’s random google searches: “shadow in toy story 3 obscene” Toy Story 3 penis shadow??? I HOPE.

I wonder how my Jello turned out.

One of these days I’m going to climb over that anger mountain of yours and it’s going to be glorious. #theotherguys

Salad marathon. Third or fourth salad now.

Sex and the city Martinis lololl

Stiff drink poured.

Wizard Kaftan?

Do you hear that? It is the sound of silence. Ahhlone at laaaaast.

he’s a Raymi Ricky Shawny cocktail

Venti Americano misto non fat let’s see how this plays out.

Omg Will & Grace is the best follow-up to B Jones.

Watching date night in jogging pants instead of having a date night eating a spicy salad, having a skinny cocktail.

Tequila Mockingbird.

When people tag you in shit on Facebook that’s scammy or spammy it’s like honestly, I will murder you.

Bought a new bottle of srirachachachacha. Making a huge salad. No carbs Craymi time plus @raymismother laundry hot tub tv and lots of cats.

Ugh when you apply more nail polish to attempt to save a sinking ship.

Am I drinking this boring water or is it drinking me?

Buffets = Feelings eating en masse. That’s my jam. Oh hey what’s up rich looking stranger with the mountain pile of crabs legs and bacon.

Oh there’s a chocolate waterfall here as well you don’t say.

All I want for Christmas is to look good naked. Going for a tan.

Smoked wings bro

Where should I treat mum to lunch/dinner?

No church in the wild.

Shamelessly adore #youvegotmail Too bad I don’t got no mail!

I feel so disgusticated with myself for giving in to this criminal mystery glamorization #dateline

Okay so she kidnapped herself. Yet again, life imitating the Big Lebowski. Nice work #dateline dragging it out over two hours.

Stir Craymi. Now watching the Colin Farrell Total Recall. Please don’t suck.

Casino is on tv. Eating soda crackers. Thrillhouse.

There’s a box of Chicken Noodle without my name on it but I’m going to make it anyway. The box says Lipton, idiot. This joke rules.

So much for my gingerale party of 1. Can’t keep anything down. I wonder who I got this from. I will find out and I will barf on them.

Someone always gives you a bug over the holidays. Stay home next time idiots and don’t hug me.

Omg I think I just gave myself a black eye opening the SUV door in to it ughh cool. Thank god for hipster spectacles.

Staring at a winter waterfall. Drunk. Awesome. I will sleep like an angel tonight/this afternoon/now.

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem.

Okay Pull or Poussez you are way too exrated for this early in the day.

Sushi Shop in Union. Mind blown. Saving for Old Mill fam xmas brunch. Must look like a million bucks. This is going to be tight.

In two song’s time I will be singing my last song ever in this place. It is packed and boiling hot.

It’s that crazy scary wet winter slush rain you go out in any way like the world is trying to be upside down.

When will sisqo make the Mom song a la Thong song? Mom muh mom mom mom! Hury the fuck up let’s go! Now

I’ve done cray shit lived to tell the tale and gladly tell it.

Spoiler alert! #Hobbit They saw lots of daybreaks!!

At 19. Nikola was my online modeling name.

Chef Carlton’s Island Spiced Hot Sauce in both Medium and Hot. My face just blasted off into OuterSpace just saying.

Maaaaagical as fuuuuuhck draggy too

Hanging w/ my brother lately has been awesome he’s like my best friend. Funny, surreal. We look like twins, strangers think we’re a couple.

Halfway through #Hobbit report: uhhhh?

Remind me to tell you about the American lady at Metro I just encountered.

Les Mis Lesmazing. Can’t wait for that one too.

I puked the guts of my heart out. In the streets. No I didn’t but it sounds awesome.

Movie theatre shire snax smugglinz: caesar salad + unsalted miss vickies +coke zero + v

Samsung Galaxy II ad is hilar.

When fighting monsters, Nietzsche wrote, be careful that you do not become a monster yourself. @Street_Carnage

And before that a tan YOLO Muthafucker!

I have another bottle of Zin. I’m thinking that + giant movie theatre straw at the #Hobbit today is going to “rule”.

I wrote as I woke and I wrote without hope.

Long may you run. Mr. Neil Young.

Women are the worst

Keith Richards autobio MIA WTF. Storm stir cray. The Shining big time.

Four women talked shit about me last night. They won.

Pizza Heaven in my mouth

This chick is telling a detailed story about a taking the garbage out fight with her family ughhhhhh stfu girl circle on the train

The hot girl from Rum Diary doesn’t wanna be with Depp cos she likes girls more. Burn of 2012.

Garden Grove, California, United States googled: raymitheminx topless — welcome to my life.

Dominoes pick up with my bro pure jokes.

How many reindeer antler cars have you seen this year omfg stab me with one in the eye please will you!

That moment you choose Bailey’s over milk for your coffee.

Like. A lot of Bailey’s.

Tell me what the matter is little man I gotta pretty face and I wear a nice dress.

Whisky hot tub

Learning Kerouac lineage and how my family was broken up over the spelling of the name. Jack Kerouac’s dad..

Sluren is one of my greatest superstar alter egos.

Award for least paying attention looking like paying full attention right over here now please.

Papa now telling longest story in history. For thirty minutes feels like. Locked self in bathroom. Everyone is getting in shit for giggling.

Nana’s classic British trifle.

Joy to the world found black wool tights of mine that aren’t holey, are clean, and fit.

Shower time for big mouth!

True or False: If your phone dies, you die.

Ahh blackberries on Christmas, bbm messages, so bottom of the barrel heartfelt in essence.

Silver stiletto + Quicksand. Minx talons now painted.

Christmas is all about Facebook.

Oh hey Merry Christmas everyone. Internet celebray-sheeons.


Go to bread actual bread because I WILL go to that.

Epic wrapping paper ball fight for like the past hour.

Meet me at the gingerale.

Say my Rayme say my rayme say my rayme

Went to see the Hobbizle with my bro. Couldn’t at all tell you what the f–k happened though I was pretty inneebs/coming down with something. Far out maaan, pretty far out there. The 3D was a trip. I’ll have to watch it again for sure.

I marched ahead of him got in line quick bought my ticket and waited, debated getting him his meanwhile he’s out combing the lot for me. I efficiently walk. I chart my course before I’m even out of the car. I will always be ahead of you. Then he had to wait in the long ass line and I regretted not getting a ticket for him. I knew all of this would happen before it happened and allowed it. I welcome this shit in to my life, challenges are far more entertaining.

I am on a movie kick. I have turned suburban. Bitch I’ve changed! It’s winter dormancy and lethargy. Hanging out with my brother is fun/ny and like whatever I think we are surprised at our own friendship and don’t discuss it so as not to jinx it.

Life is funny.

I ate dinner in his work van. So Borington of me. Then I prepared a movie theatre cocktail. Like I said.

Thanks mom!

Nails are getting long at the point of daily painting at the rate of painting’s failing.

Chain necklace, zinfandel, Winners GC (Thanks Aunt Alison <3!), body butter (that too!).

Couldn’t find the Keith book. Who has that? It better not be who I think.

I love this gooey balm paste. In the summer it’s just ridiculous in one’s hot purse.

I lost half of my last post and this was in it so it’s boring as fuck to deal with these images again, annoying too. But it’s the Raymi Noose so we live to blog another day.

Hot tub party again tonight.

Arwen hair. Keeping it L-O-T-R.



It studies you with its crazy chameleon eyes all the colours on your body then turns them.


Okay shower time excellent. How’s the holiday vortex treating you and yours? Bring on 2013! BE NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M bartending that jam.

Merry whatever

Hey guys how was your holiday?

Holy fuckola am I ever behind! For this post I will be affecting the persona of Ricky. Don’t get your hopes too up though.

“Then I get out here and I’m all stressed out and my girlfriend breaks up with me..” ahah pretty much.

Hailey bo Bailey and I. Boy they grow up fast. ZOOM.

Nana and Pops. I love these guys. I was an angelpie this year and “grown up” or acted as such and my performance received great review because they bought it. Not so much at this brunch but on Christmas.

Look how we all match. Love Christmas uniform colours. My butt wins for being the most bubbly.

Hi mom. Look I’m eating my pecan pie. Sugar pie more like. Montreal turned on the eating floodgates for me big time. I am trying to do damage control ever since but too bad everyone else I know is in love with eating right now too. Eating enablers. Triggers. It’s true.

Mom’s great on the Diane Arbus trip. I gave up my shutterbug ways long since ago kinda. I need a new camera. You’d think someone would just give me one already.

Hi girls! Besties much. Don’t you forget it idiots.

It was a lovely brunch. Relaxing. Feelings satisfying. Christmas. Magical. Holla.

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Ho ho ho stupids!


If there’s a Christmas tree beneath the tv it makes the movie seem like a Christmas flick seriously. Too bad Paddock always smells like hot cleaning agents and last night’s party. Whoops.

There’s a Starbucks and a back entrance to Union, nice find. View of Hotel Le Germain. Where I have stayed.

Raymbo straws.

On way to Raymaoke.

Sigh. We park here on work out days.

Hey where’d I put that necklace hmm.

And I went home with this. Mom had chicken strips. Boring.

What’s up Rocky.

Have fun in Texas Bech.

See you before you go go bro ho.

Dad, get this if you haven’t already read it. Also rent Taking Woodstock. Merry Christmas for the idea.

Damn. I had a wonderful selection of hot sauces at my disposal for my omelette. Components.

Thai Red curry. No rice. Limiting carb intake.

Oh Christ then I found these.

Apple caramel bottom right corner. Dope. We rock paper scissored for first draw. I won, took the best ones. #selfishjerkface #yolo hahahuh.

Mom’s pics way better (you’ll see those) but we hightailed it to Ancaster Old Mill for Brunch. It was a magical time.

Bacon, eggs benedict, crabs legs, salmon, chicken. I threw some vegetables on top so as not to look like a total fat fuck. My second plate looked like that Perogies. It’s all the mouth-watering figure shattering crap you’re like okay whatever this is the last buffet I am ever going to may as well tuck in. I didn’t have bacon seconds aren’t you proud of me? Didn’t eat the english muffin either yeah yeah whatever.

Hailey found oysters. She barfed the next day she ate so damn much. She is so our kin. Pigs. (That’s my old shirt).

The only dessert I had. I had to leave room for the 4 mimosas/Kir Royales I drank bro ahaha. I had a two hour sleep afterward.

This guy was amazed by me.


Whoops how’d that get in there. Bah-blam!

No that is bah blam. I am turning more and more in to zoey deschanel.

This, I will have to learn how to pose in.

This lost to this.

Black is better.

Nice does it come in bigger?

Merry Christmas to y’all and to y’all a good zzz. BYE!

What? Merry Chrizzle yo.

Yes I was just taking a ton of stupid pictures of myself, it’s because I love you but I love me more. Lets do it!

My mom gave me one of my presents early this year, it’s this red lipstick that the desk lamp has blown out to pink. No bigz y’all can still tell I have wicked lips so who cares what colour they are. I just got a brainstorm to wear my glitzy lips metallic decal lipwear when I bartend NYE yay smart attack but anyway someone made a mouth comment, err, request so then I got conceited and I narrowed it down to these winners.

Give me more t-shirts and I’ll take pics with your brand jacked all up over the place.

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I don’t mind spending the apocalypse with you

Lets talk about the end of the world again that’s fun!

I don’t really pay attention to much in life thanks to the internet I can half get a glean, throw it through the Raymi Neighbourino Wilson translator filter and go about my biz but thanks to the year 2012 being the worst year to ever happen to me I kind of wouldn’t at all mind if we all just fucking exploded tomorrow, you know? I know it’s not at all going to happen but the freedom of burning every bridge in sight to delight that curious fantasy free feeling within us all is kind of, well, down right perverted. *licks teeth* D. calls it REIGNING IN THE BEAST. That “dark passenger” within. Clem told me we have it, some guy on Dexter says he has a dark passenger. Clem says I have several. D. says he could have been several times married but you know, yeah me too, but thanks “to the beast” we continue the lone wolf on an eternal journey route instead.

I know a lot of people around me have had it bad this year and the others who don’t, are never really happy very much anyway so this one’s for them too! Raise it up. I am drinking vodka vanilla coffee right meow can you tell?

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 Pinnacle also sent Pottery Barn martini glasses how adorbz.

I am obsessed with this video and song. Not in just that the chick keeps going, “Why can’t I keep you?” but the inappropriate relationship betwixt her and that little man. The boy. And she asks him, “tell me what’s the matter little man” so cuuuute, so obsessive. She stalks him, it’s crazy! The song and the video tell it together I love it. To The hip fucking ghetto itself, it reminds me of some of the bush of Aruba. I did some crazy shit in Aruba. I went to dangerous places and put myself in stupid situations and made it out alive. Reigning in the beast. Is because. I went to a bar out in the middle of nowhere with a stranger. You can smoke indoors there, it is disgusting. And hot, sweaty, stifling. Everyone was dancing in there it was crammed to the walls. I was the only white girl. It was amazing I was scared but solid, respected. Then I went to a house. These are stories for sale, in a book not a blog.

I also enjoy dancehall and the grimey performances it inspires and I know I can move my body in a kind of rhythm that is the best absolute pairing with it. I’ll stop typing it and start doing it later on tonight.

It is infuriating being a blogger sometimes. I do a lot of interesting shit but I cannot blog it. Storytelling is an obsessive compulsion of mine. Social media has outright destroyed it. From waning attention spans to associations, but ultimately above all else it’s dudes. It’s always dudes. They are always watching you. Making assumptions. Waiting abating studying and the second you move on, hating.

I invented Raymi the Minx to be an eternal minx I never thought it would ruin my life. Or people would believe it. Heck I stamped MINX on my own fucking arm. I marked myself. HA ha. But a piece of me a biiiiiig ass piece thoroughly digs it so, what can you do. You gotta be you. And when it all goes to shit you take a deep breath until it is over. Because it gets better eventually and it always does.

But sometimes I like being depressed too. Isn’t that wrong? I like falling through the cracks, being a curator of sadness. Being your loser hero. I can’t even tell you half the funny and ridiculous things I’ve done since September because they’re only funny to me and everybody reads this, my mother, father, whatever you know “It’s art” if I am supposed to be this Kerouac-continued extension savant why don’t I shut up and tell it. IF you look back in the archives of my blog this is how I used to do it anyway, hide and expose, behind my laptop write 3 times daily. Destroy relationships cause rifts between couples whom were both obsessed with me, one or the other. I’d provoke and flame war. I had balls. Nerve. Now? Holy shit! Amazed.

This is the part where I beat my chest in the corner of the ring and get myself psyched up about life again even though I want to die.


We saw the kid for the first time since she moved out there she said my blog has been pretty vague lately like so fucking vague.

Oh, is it?

That was supposed to be my vague blog post ending but I am still feeling chatty. SO hi again.

Because I am a comedian, self-professed (BUT I did do standup one night) I make up little witty jokes and quips to myself all day long. It is exhausting. Anyway one thing you can text your ex for Christmas is Merry Christmas it’s over I know but Merry Christmas anyway. I wanted to tweet that instead it would have been too cryptic but I Should have done it anyway.


I can see it on a tumblr t-shirt now.

I didn’t tweet it because I didn’t want people to think I meant it about the apocalypse. I realize my Larry David-mind has held me back in life LOTS. The over-thinking process. See right there that statement rules and since I’ve been on a bender since September tweeting thoughts and statements one status update at a time in lieu of blogging the entire pile of shit together I feel like this blog has been collecting way too many moths as a result. This long winded classic Craymi blog post reads as one long inner-sanctum long time email correspondence because why not just address all of you at once. All of the good guys. Ho ho ho.

This is me shaking up the snow globe. Okay fuck I have to at least tweet that one cos it’s 1:30 and bloggers need to hit publish once in the day at least and we all know I’ve been doing less than that so a cough on twitter is a tap on the shoulder to your bros.

But yes, snow globe. Life. That. Do it. You gotta do it sometimes. Jerry Maguire mission statement no sleep trainwreck crash. Fuck what a guy that is forget me, if Tom Cruise isn’t the man of the year if not the entire f-ing decade then we are all blind assholes. Talk about someone who ruh-eally fucked it up large despite laughing all the way to the bank cos you’re not a failure if you’re rich BUT if your rep is ruined that kinda licks. It started well before the in love with Katie Holmes dancing on the Oprah couch incident as far as I’m concerned but we just didn’t notice because we thought it was just good acting. My mom pointed out that Tom Cruise has one wicked flip out in each of his films. #fact. Jerry Maguire? Great indication thereof.

I want to start writing thought pieces again. I want to spill my diarrhea thoughts again because lots more people checked in then so I’m going to try that again and see if it sticks and then hopefully I will finish my book parallel to that. I need to read and write more. That is my resolution. A woman we hooped with at Brass Vixens last weekend said her resolution was to be a BETTER hooper and some other better things and I liked that approach.

I want to be better instead of I want to stop doing as an NYE resolution. Positive statements. Because we know we won’t change, not right now anyway, we can only hope to aspire to be better at something we are already doing. I am already doing some things that I am pretty good at and people love me and just accept my snooze button of life pressing at present and I am in too much pain to stop some of the things I’m doing so I can at least proffer to get better at a new skill instead of abandoning something that is helping me get through my fucking life right now. Whether it be drinking or over-eating, complaining, this is only me for right now not forever. I just have zero fucking privacy and I want to be alone live alone, stop wandering, settle, somewhere, have people off my back. Stop hearing negativity outright above all else. I want to be inspired again I want to see other people get better too and do better. Save themselves. That is what I want. You know who you are.

Holy fuck if blogs aren’t for ranting then wtf are they for? Mommies? I think so. Beginning to. I’m going to annex the medium back. Watch.

I’m in to this video a lot. It is long. Two songs for the price of one. WhoMAdeWho are geniuses, their videos, another I Was obsessed with when I moved to Borington in 2009 kept me on my game. Steered me. Artists who express sentiments on to the world in form of song and film, tickle me. Just watch it.

Love being one day ahead of trend.

Busted going through my tumblr. I use it as a dj platform -blanket dj. Archive way is the best way to micro-manage the assault you get and hover over the play triangles of the images, those guys are youtube raymi song repeat classics. I got your back.

Alright I gotta go. Bah Humbug.

ps. even though everything sucks my backside will never age. Click it before you stick it.

And from yesterday’s work out. I have to implement a meal plan now. sigh.

The name of this colour is a weed euphemism. Jokes. Hilar.

It’s the end of the world as we know it

Okay listen idiots I’ma ’bout to call bullshit on a whole lotta you. First’s off lets talk about a little thing called reality and within this realm the one that we all exist, future forecasts of death or otherwise are non-existent. I’m sorry but you just can’t see through time. I’ve tried. Never underestimate hot sauce. So IF, major if, a planet Nibiru is actually at present hurtling itself toward us at speeds so technically and measurably sound to predict its blasting in to earth then how le f did these Mayans pinpoint its overall impacting destruction to one specific day? I’ll tell you. IMPOSSIBLE. They can’t. Haven’t. We’re just not that lucky to have the world end or change. Nothing changes. Ever. It doesn’t. There is just no fucking way a meteorite is going to kill me no matter how hard I wish. By this logic, fear not Little Raymis the party continues December 22.

Mayans are said to be “super advanced” and possess technological advanced methods or capabilities necessary to foresee such End Times sh–. PUH-LEASE. Did you get a notification alert via abacus, bro?

I just exhausted myself by that pseudo-rant and actually deleted multiple paragraphs of it haha. Seeing as we can’t throw our papers in the air fuck this shit it’s Friday styles, on with tha show. NO Doomsday for you! (Soup Nazi voice).

I’ve been in town since Thursday. It feels like yesterday. It’s neat the blanket brain blur one can vacation in if one is so inclined, or lucky to be able to.

I bought a new dress. If it’s the end of the world, buy a new dress. Prescilla Dressly.

Same picture as the lead-in but hipstamatic. I’m a purist, original, original gangster, before all these filters you know and I don’t at all photoshop or edit. I like it raw. I can’t tell what is better though, what people prefer. It looks good both ways. But one way is hiding.

This is raw, it is honest and it looks great. It’s “so” Raymi. Which I feel people like, admire, appreciate. Always have always will. When people make fun of foodie instagram shots I just roll my eyes and close my ears from listening because I know I’m right. I am not boring, my life isn’t, my food isn’t. My perspective is fresh. If you have to filter a photo to make it interesting that is sad. Tell the story the first damn time you take the shot. Don’t generalize like that. The more established and it-girl the person the crappier their photos can be. They are what they photograph. What they photograph is interesting. Therefore.

Oh Shannon ILU.

I think this was a music video. It was, lame. I bet the edit will rule comparatively to IRL. Our cabbie while I took this shot was an absolute hoot I’ll tell you.

Julesy Joolzy Jules, makes them boys drools. We love her so. Welcome back kiddo.

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