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February 17, 2015

Happy Christmastine’s Day all!


Shout-out to my homies, whagwan? What’s good?

Welcome now to the very public showcase which is my life, delicately edited for your pleasure (here’s hoping) and for everybody else, don’t care. #gangster

Lets start backwards because cool and simple. It’s freezing in my room right now I am considering moving into the livingroom to blog.

Oh hi.

This weekend was so lazy. It was so cold. Only insane people go out and have fun in that. Going out dancing this weekend instead to make up for it. I bought that stupid cute little number gotta go out and show it off no?

We completed 2 boxes of chocolates. I did as many exercises as I could to make up for it including training, crazy running intervals, and new core work that I am still sore from and showing abdominal improvements like a washboard for. I really want to look like an arachnid or Jesus H. Christ as soon as possible. I actually want to look like Shia Labeouf in the Sia video. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that crazy can’t sculpt you because it can, will, and does. Of all the side-effects of insanity, that one is a plus.

I feel like you always get duped when you order a mimosa when out. They definitely do not make it like you would at home. Yes super waste. I can’t get wasted on this! Hey remember when I was sober? Yeah well I’m still a light drinker and a lightweight so don’t worry in case you were. I love that a little goes a loooong way despite complaining about this mimosa so weak you could give it to your baby. baha

Size 27 pant in US btw is 4 (some say six) so lets say 5 to be nice. THE DUMBEST spat occurred in my comments over the weekend that I definitely should not be bringing up again now but I think it was a good example in online etiquette and being purposely obtuse, snarky then playing innocent then being told to lighten up. It was a tiresome bore and sucked the life out of my lazy Banshee bender trying to have some quality shut-in time with my Valentine.

I leave dumb comments all over the web so I understand. Sometimes I’ll both stare at and re-read a one word comment I’ve left somewhere and cringe knowing that the person won’t know how to analyze it.

Sometimes if you write HA! They can take it to mean HA! at them and not HA! with them.

But then it’s like who cares but then it’s like facebook is just a cauldron of your own drama, cast of characters and shit you put out there so have a little mercy. Also get a life.

I forgot my phone at one point this weekend and was like it’s ok you can refresh notifications when you get back. While at other points I put my head down, deflated, thinking this is so like Holland where I can’t roam off wireless and tweet every thought and cute things I see because I’m in The Netherlands. Off the grid. For two hours. You then realize how addicted and tethered to the various communications you engage with throughout the day. None of it matters but it can be awfully enriching when you have a roving, wandering mind.

Glitched. Have fixed version but whatevs.

Hahah WIND MACHINE #fashion.

Sans instagram filter. Not bad not bad, going to try to incorporate my eye crinkles the more comfortable I get being down with them. Don’t worry I’ll still wear shades and lots of makeup and soft camera lighting plus filters whenever I can/the time calls for it.

What’s a blogger to do right? Hint hint my blog title? I had this breakthrough in a post-ablogalyptic universe starring me post-blog (but the blog must go on!) how unhireable I now am. Except for pushing the envelope more and more.

Always be edgy I was once told.

Sometimes to get over mountains you have to go through them. #Banshee (almost done season 2 now).

But yeah to eclipse the little people you have to steer from them I guess.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and when the treasure is treated as such, good things happen.

I feel like I am writing a fucking harlequin pornmance.

Yep. Wine slut again.

Oh Jesus. I hit publish. So this is a grower post to those smart enough to come and see before I put it on Social Media blast.

We played this on Friday night. Fun and funny. We make each other laugh all day long. Like ten minutes goes by completey utterly wasted by laughing at the dumbest thing like a facial expression or, a word. It is surreal to be dating again. I’m still very cautious but there’s a lot of non-red flags to just be chill. It’s only when other people meddle is when problems occur but all in all it’s good. This weekend was a test for sure. I haven’t spent so much time non-stop together with someone since I was engaged yeesh. When people like each other they can smother one another it’s incredible. Passion plus I dunno but again “this time around” Raymbo is playing it safe. To be continued I guess.

Can’t even. That face. Face girls are always doomed no? Do women ever discuss trophy boyfriend collection? Remind me to talk about that someday when I run a superfluous girls club with Candice Bergen.

One of the things we ate this weekend. Deadly good.

He let the buttermilk thicken for like an hour on the counter I was like wtf are you doing over there now uh ohhhhhhh I seee neeeeeeeat.

I LOVE the taste of corn tortillas. How about corn deep fried zucchini magic? Transported.

What’s a little tonuge burn? Some like it hot.

Spicy beef patty action.

I lost 2-3lbs.

No more carbs screwing around this week. You’ll see why soon.

Leftover steaks and plantain breakfast.

haha shut up allow me to continue.

Didn’t get around to that yet….

Hibernation presents.

That is healthgoth. 1. look goth, 2. fit. yes I am talking to you #troll #bitch.

It’s Mardi gras in new Orleans right now and I am leaning against this wall.

There’s chocolate on my grey grunge sweater from Holland, on the right shoulder. :(

I’ve been making my homemade caesar dressed salad modified from The Beaver for years. Eventually not far long maybe even a decade. You can put anything in a caesar salad NEWSFLASH.


Oh yeah look at that gravy.

Lentil soup fainting. So lemony mmm.

Had to include, almost lost in the frey. Sorry I am the worst.

Yesterday’s jam.

This morning.

Edison light from Earls.

Willpower breakfast.

Canadian tuxedo family day afternoon.

Heartsy artsy.

Winter tan!

Love it. Want it.

Okay guys not that this is dire to go on with or anything so I’m going to exercise now. Hope you had a splendid long weekend and a great day today so far.

Love Raymi.

Vomments (3)
February 13, 2015

Hello you people who come here.

Should I have bought that robe thing? It didn’t even have a sash. I feel like Kelly from 90210 would wear this. I can be a Kelly, no? Though I’d probably be the (f__ing bitch) Brenda whom I can easily visualize in this too.

Everyone’s like, get it get it. I want to too I mean, my eye picked it out of all the other crap in the store afterall. But I feel it’s just not practical. It’s arrogant. If I went over to someone’s house and the hostess was wearing this in my head I’d be like fuck you hahaha. It’s a classic look. A hallmark of Madonna in the 90’s. Bedroom. I am a peacock type so it’s not like going out of my comfort zone or anything.

I love it but I think I’ve gotten the intended use out of it already, which was a cute selfie. A picture lasts forever you can just picture me in this robe 24/7 now instead of the weird shit that I actually wear. Moving on…

Sexy song interlude. I have gone through the next season of Banshee’s soundtrack in advance. Oh yeah when I obsess I obsess HARD.

Didn’t get. Still shrinking, will be rendered useless and was also a bit baggy.

Sorry for that faaaaaaaaace. Haven’t washed hair since I dyed it (when did I dye it do you remember?) but yeah it is going to definitly bleed like bananas.

I did get this though. I’m going to wear it on valentine’s day. Which I thought was actually today. I also thought Wednesday was Thursday. I am definitely losing it. Meh.

How do I feel about storming forever 21 being forever 31?

Hmm, I am coming for ya bitches. When teenage chicks repeatedly look me over with approval… I guess it’s like when porn stars brag about shopping at the kid’s sections, I feel like Pamela Anderson said that definitely before.

I mean, forever 21 mocks adult feminine looks as well as tweeny trendy shit. A lot of the dresses at f21 are age appropriate. Spending a hundred bucks on a bag of tricks I’ll eventually give to my niece, what is the big deal?

Fashion rule of life is, if it fits and nothing is seen jiggling – it’s a go. I went out and said to the dressing room girl, okay this is really short can I do this? She said it’s supposed to be that way.

Would a celebrity wear this? Yes. On red carpet with insanely high Jessica Simpson pumps? Yes. Can I eat a steak and down a half bottle of red wine in this? Yep.

I had a cheap little black lace date dress that was legendary once. I sold like 100 of it and individually facebook replied to each lady who inquired where it came from 1. because I know the value of my influence 2. that retail store does not deserve my free press. I could have just said I got it here and saved myself the hassle of personally replying to everyone I told to email me if they wanted to know.

Because of my boxy boyish amazon wtf body type I can grab that ignored dress in the shop and make it work. Some dresses hang terribly on hangers, then no one buys them and they get shipped to Mississauga outlet malls where they go to die. Fact.

This guy (me) comes along and uses it as primo date machine attire on a blog then booya.

I even remember who scooped it up at my 10 year blogiversary party. Holy rambly, sorry sorry.

I am going to wear it with almost black (dark grey basically black) tights altho I kinda want to wear my cute little heart socks BUT it’s fucking winter man who do I think I am. If I am not too full then we will go dancing. wait omfg I just had a brainstorm!

Went for a tan to trick out ma bod.

I should just get a bottle of this again.

Post tan mall glow. A girl spied on me being insane like this. I didn’t look at her but I bet she was making fun of me in her head. I would. But secretly I would be like you are amazing.

Have to exchange for a smaller size. Sorry, I patronage your store enough don’t give me grief.

A troll flipped out on me here once when I said I was returning a shirt (oh please everyone does it and for worser reasons) but mine was a legitimate reason, it ripped on me – super cheaply made and garbage why the hell would I want to replace it? So I exchanged for something else. At the time of this comment, this repeat psycho troll was daily goading me, leaving obsessive comments and I saved them I never blogged them or responded or reacted. It’s just insane how someone can obsess over you like that and look for weaknesses and opportunities to wedge their way in.

To date I get a lot of positive messages. I feel like people are chill and we’re all mellowed out. Not to say I don’t receive insane things, and thirsty guys of course haha. That is part of the game perhaps. I am a flirt. Was recently accused of being one. I never really thought of myself as one. I “have no game” which is so 100% totally my game, or, a game.

I think that anybody I have drawn to me over a matter of years I totally deserve the attention of. As long as it’s positive. I am not talking unwanted attention from people who have been banished. You don’t have to like everybody and they don’t have to like you. They just have to go away.

I will 100% say these pants like tanning salon. I don’t care. It’s a nice smell. I will keep you all abreast of how Jeansgate 2015 goes down.

While these were to look a lot sexier, in my head. I think I just pulled them up too high and also my high heel mary janes should be the guys to slip these socks into.

I am a sucker for containment. I feel like I am going to slip on a banana peel at any moment, I crave safety. Jumpers are safe except for pee time and crouching naked on a toilet shivering in hilarious fear.

Love instagram filters. Am a walking piece of art.

My TBT. I was 21. A bf took this I was his model subject for a photography class. I lived around the corner at the time. He and I weren’t together at this point. We are still friends now. There is mad history yo. Complex! I really liked dressing like this, and still do if I have the figure for it. Slipping on form-fitting elastic-like jeans, jumping on my longboard and just whipping off on an adventure.

And now I’m just a tired old lady in glasses wahhhh.

Had this the other night. Bad girl. No more effing around I have a screen test or to talk about setting one up Feb 23. It’s time to look as Chiseled as Jesus fricking Christ now. If it didn’t leave scar marks I would even let you whip me and reimagine the stations of the cross (don’t say Catholic school wasn’t good for nothing!)

Another me at 21. I remember this day. There are other good pics of me from this sesh in the park doing karate Kid like balance poses on a fence. I lost pictures when indiko bit the dust, where I hosted my pictures since I was 19. Whatever I managed to randomly take over to flickr is what I still have. History dies if you do not back it up eh.

I have 98,493 pictures in my flickr account. Have been a member since 2005. That number seems a little high to me lol.

Back to my body psychosis.

My new boss said I look like Liz Hurley TWICE NOW.

I’m just gonna tie my ego to a hot air balloon and let it sail away now thx k bye whaaaaaaaaaaat!?!?

Yep gonna sculpt my guns after this.

And exchange these jeans. I will cry if the size down doesn’t fit and set myself on fire from embarrassment.

Oh hey cool can I try on these 27’s? Uh no reason…

On way to tan or after can’t remember.

A below picture. After my tan. I didn’t wear makeup really except the mascara seems to be permanently gunked on… I wouldn’t call it wearing. Ahh excuses, lovely. See how dried out my lips are like a peach. Sometimes nude lipstick is hot.

This morning already feels like years ago.

Did I ever tell you the reason why my blog posts are so long? If anyone has read this far and wants to know then I will say so.

Don Draper is back. I know right. It’s kind of surreal.

Dance time excellent.

How cliche is red nailpolish on v day??

Vomments (10)
February 10, 2015

Yep yep more of this.

The paunch of a woman is decidedly always the last thing to go. I’m like a mini cupcake, a gumdrop, I have no idea what I am saying it’s just girl gobbledity goo. Sometimes a bit of lovehandles can be hot. When I see innapropes and private pictures of myself sitting all out there like a boss, I’m like frig if that one leaked I would not be embarrassed at all…

Maybe I can get away with catwanging one. It’s always over the top with me though.

Speaking of (somewhat), how do we collectively feel about Madonna’s butt-flashing for real? She can do no wrong first of all. I don’t think it was sad it was more just like a whatever attempt at controversy and “being cheeky” which is outdated and cheesy of course. We all have something to say and judge but at the end of the day she is Madonna, we are not – which means something I guess BUTT it was the least interesting thing of the night. For once the Grammys are stil being talked about days after. I just can’t remember any of the other Grammys my brain can retain only so much uselessness.

I keep eyeing these buggers on my windowsill in the sun frikking flirty. I feel like chicks in their early thirties are frisky and like, if spinsters, allowed to just own the cray. Your (our) bodies are ticking hormone in their prime/is running out machines. Literal Katy Perry Roar music videos. Take like, every single burlesque dancer about this age (or more!) that you know and you know I’m right. I love it. La dee dah liiiiife! You just get one and how fun is yours?

I have been mentioning this notion of “fun” a lot lately to friends, and the need for it.

How I am addicted to it.

How it rules my world.

Other Peter Pan never grew up syndrome people I know are all about it too. I think when I don’t have fun I start to wilt like a flower petal. My spirit takes a nosedive. I drink. I bathe in misery. I hate the cold so I don’t go running, which also depletes my endorphins. Exercising indoors and on the cheap as in DIY it takes a lot more gusto and self-motivation to do it yourself.

It just feels like I will never be granted a clear mind. There is always something to nitpick about. I cannot see the forest for the trees never. Even when things are good I am like this is bad.

Then I look back a few years later and am like wow that was a good time Lauren, good thing you did not enjoy a second of it.

I just feel guilty having fun. Knowing how to have fun while being responsible. I feel like I am lying here all the time because I only show you the good things or the wishes I have and my plans my dreams my hopes I feel like I am writing on Lisa Frank stationary with unicorns and stardust floating all around me like a giant fucking jerk.

The truth is I am happy. But why do I feel so bad?

Does it feel good to feel bad? Maybe I am riding the wave of bad feelings coasting gently away and off of them standing on the abyss of a new juncture knowing it is going to be hella intense.

I am literally staring at the most calmest beautiful lake right now in the sun, the sun having all to do with this sudden boost of joy. Or maybe it is mania? Sylvia Plath, hello?

Why do writers sound and feel insane all of the time. Everything is so profound so beautiful to be captured and thought shared. To this you guys, pay attention. I was just thinking this beautiful thing and… oh I’ll tumbl it instead.

See. Painting.

Okay I’ll talk normal now blabbity blah what is this a nature book about birds, maybe? I mean I already talk about squirrels why stop there. I’ll also mention that I am upset that I didn’t make a squirrel squatting joke at the time either, it burned me up just a little I admit.

And this fucking guy.

Should we talk about the pink elephant some more or.

I really liked this picture (taken in July) even though I look kinda too juicy in it for my usual liking, AND I kinda like that about it at the exact same time. Sometimes beautiful women with just a little more meat on them can make you go bananas? I also remember this night and how it was basically like the movie save the last dance no wait, step up? A dance movie starring me plus ______. I actually do not remember what his blog nickname is or if he even had one do you recall? Did I call him volleyball? Ok well I will now. I don’t think I even got into it because we happened quickly then were over so quickly.

In the situation I feel like I got played. The aftermath leading to a lot of reckless behaviour this (past) summer, a lot of “fun” as mentioned before which I like, a lot of woe and a lot of running. I pined for him, then I moved on and recently learned that it went over a month about without my contacting him at all til he started sniffing around again.

I had met the Polish guy at this point and was pretty smitten with him or about to be.

I am going to refrain from telling you this all at once because it is all majorly too soon and maybe down the road I won’t even want to say it. Will save for a slow news day. Or I’ll weave in and out of it along the way.

These were my skinny jeans I bought from Zara when I bought my green winter coat last season that I always wear. They fit me then but only if it was a skinny day which I seldom bothered to get to because I didn’t care about being a little extra juicy back then but anyway now they’re fat day jeans, or really stretched out plus I have slimmed down to be able to grab them for regular jean wearing rotation. I also have a pair of jeggings that were painted on tight when I started wearing them but now are saggy so that makes me happy.

This is about a month old. On way to my dermatologist appt. You can clearly see my old lip piercing hole. I think it’s cute. It collects makeup in it sometimes that I have to make a point to remember to pick out sounds gross but isn’t it’s like a personal treat ok now that sounds gross. (will use this as a stand-up bit in future for sure).

My breakup review was that I was hot, sweet, funny and would be regretted. I’m not going to divulge the bad parts of the review sorry you can just use your imagination.

Anyway this was an interesting look I had one day due to not having a flat iron available so I bjork bun curled my hair and it lasted for 2 days. For the record I am really turned off by this hairstyle, there might be a cuteness to it that some guys are 90’s wistful for but mostly it repulses me and now you know. When people are like aww cute buns I am just pretending. I think the disdain is linked to impatience and the memory of having to sit still for an hour and have my hair done like this before bed on the eve of something important I needed crimpy hair for. I do have an appreciation for braiding though don’t look at me like that I was just hyper-active.

Yum town.

Time for another complaint. Blogging and “working” at the same time is hard. It is exhausting. Especially blogging like this, talking about things that exhaust you but being ceative can be exhausting, it is exhilarating and I love it but it still makes you tired because it is using your talent I suppose. This fucking dink once said that I had no talent in the Globe and Mail. Uh bro I made the Globe and Mail for essentially about nothing I call that talent.

I just mean when things are fun, and it can be fun and a joy to blog, to write gleefully about your life and talk to all these different people throughout the day while blogging it just gets hard to turn off the outside noise when you want to do both. To create and to socialize. You’re left with this rubbing off onto that and it can be totally cool actually.

It was more like a non-complaint. Like all things to come out of my mouth tend to be.

No offense but gross. Cannot handle floaty things in my drink unless there’s booze in it. Jello and a milkshake (“tea”) I can’t deal. Congratulations on calling it bubbles though that’s smart and clearly the marketing works.

Pic from above but how instagram had its way with it #healthgoth. I want a picture playing tennis frozen like a mannequin in a black sport bra etc you know?

Now time for the fun task of sorting through these which I have or have not blogged yesterday. One time this psycho bitch commented that I had posted the same picture twice (they were very similar selfies) in my old condo but bitch was wrong. Also, who cares? Like what a waste of the next few sentences I type bothering clearing this up.

Because some readers do nitpick over every detail here. God some bloggers (majorly famous ones) get it so bad I feel bad they seem to be caught up in rectifying every single false claim about them instead of doing the thing that got them famous to begin with – blog. It reminds me of times when I went far with obsessing about a few times I was put through the ringer. Bloggers have harder times accepting criticisms because they’re bloggers first and celebrities second. Organic celebrities. Realer. Though a lot of celebrities do not manage to turn the other cheek and will react to haterade on twitter so who is to say anymore, it’s more based on the individual. We’re all snowflakes right.

Shutting up/owning it from here on out.

Getting there. Trying to be proud of myself and make peace with everything.

Once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all I guess. The slight differences do not matter. I’ll have to wear a new outfit next time (not a problem). Alrighty that’s all for today then.

Vomments (5)
February 9, 2015

Hey gang,

So lets talk about the Grammys and just be like everybody else for once.

We will talk about me and we will talk about the Grammys, the Gram-me’s.

And how about that Kanye holy stupid fuck! Maybe if you were drunk with your hilarious friends at a pool party all in Hawaiian shirts and like Norm Macdonald gets up and takes the podium at a roast, FANTASTIC yes, appropriate. Basically that scene from Billy Madison.

However, part of me is like fuck the Grammys who cares? Do any of us know anyone remotely near as famous as Taylor Swift and Beyonce?

Do you know how much my socks were not blown off by the album she snuck up and dropped on us last year? Just as much as those puppies stayed up and on all last night from her Biblical gospel I am Jesus performance. Well Beyonce you may have fooled Kanye but not this girl! (btw I love gospel music fyi).

Maybe sing a song that has rhythm and flow that you can actually navigate with this “talent” you have. You tried too hard to make a moment happen. We shouldn’t have to wait 2 minutes to be grabbed by something. It was all build. It was f-ing without c___ing.

I liked your body silhouette and matching men in white accompaniments but Beck has been at it longer. You can’t win ‘em all and you don’t. It’s a part of life.

I don’t purport to know about awards shows or how winners are chosen but it seems that some other higher power governing body is in place much like your God you duly believe in, yet you can’t accept the room of little white men deciding decisions. Or is it based on record sales as well as popular opinion?

Anyway I don’t care. Pretty sure no one else OTHER THAN KANYE WEST rushes stages when they don’t like the outcome but mostly because we don’t get invited to those things and have the opportunity to.

Here’s something else I noticed, when Jennifer Hudson got up on stage to deliver some horribly read piece about this well, she stopped at the top of the stage and this little white old man he like, shoved her over and it really pissed me off. Here is this exquisite songstress in a beautiful white dress and she froze, she was still poised and all but I did not like how he did that it was so typical awkward insecure tiny man who felt more entitled and important than her and I am surprised no one else has pointed it out yet. Watch it for yourself and see. I just mean, if that happened to me I would have thumped his arm or pinched him super hard and painfully. I would visibly react. Jennifer Hudson played that moment cool though. Maybe tumblr is talking about it they notice everything.

Should I tweet come-on to Kanye West next?

In moments like these, social media opportunities, or maybe like everyday, I just splatter as many people as I can with stupid crap everywhere and see what sticks. You would be surprised!

People will care about celebrities more than they will ever care about me, eventually I am gonna have to bite the bullet and stop trying to be the one and to talk about the one instead.

But no!

I can do both.

See. I relate to the megalomania so much, I am smarter than her. People love the fame and you reinforce it with every gaudy fancy sexy glittery photo you post. There is a recipe. We all get it right and wrong. The object is to always be the focus (which they always are). Do I troll you guys? Sometimes maybe.

I refrain from using a filter sometimes. Some people think that mentally ill people are the only ones who do that. Maybe it is a form of autism but when one is actively cognitive of the shitty things they say, and I mean shitty, sometimes I can deliver some real honest harsh zingers and be separated from the cruelty affixed and I am doing this with logic and reason. My mind makes quick calculated conclusions in the moment before I speak, everyone knows the saying think before you speak. Some people act and think later. Some (many)(all) tweet then delete, Jason Biggs comes to mind. In the moment I am thinking that this person will only benefit from what I am about to say. I have a way.

-note to self do celebrity hall of shame tweets blog post round up or get someone better to.

Anyway the point of many is, does Kanye think before he acts?

Do I provoke purposely without thinking?

How can it not be on purpose if I have thought about it.

Sometimes I’ll post a mega juicy sexy ass pic then like throw my phone away and agonize over it secretly quietly in the back of my mind while watching Banshee. Flee the fear and know that it’s for the greater good because it will all add up to, something someday?

Then there is the dreaded like-hike obsession. If there are no likes does it mean it’s bad when you tried really hard to look good in the picture? And then why do your friends only like the pics that are not of your butt but like everything else, are they being passive aggressive? Just chill with the obvious silences and don’t ask because you don’t want to know.

Sometimes I’ll say one of my dumb things on Facebook instead of twitter and it will get all these likes and comments. Say the same thing on twitter and, crickets. Twitter is good like that sometimes though.

Every single one of us desires attention.

It’s funny how Iggy’s hair was judged by the universe from lazy couch slobs with awful hair themselves. Personally, I loved her hairdo and it takes courage to go out when you’re bullied by the industry cos they jealous of you and attack you for “stealing” from their culture. Some people just identify as a certain way. Do you bash transgender people for identifying as a different gender, well how about race? What if I woke up one day and decided I was Swedish?

People can be and do anything they want and if they do it better than you, beat you to it, so what? Play better then. Cos you just look like a whiner.

Like how we look like whiners always whining about how unfair it is that Kanye West does this, does that and his stupid wife too. I have gone back and forth defending her so many times meanwhile look at me. I am using her as a scapegoat left right center!

Oh well keep the dream alive.

I don’t have anything interesting to share other than trashing on the Grammys. Aside from dying my hair and my exercises and boring you with what I am not eating right now.

Running on the spot indoors works well in the winter. When all your stuff be jiggling it be working. I hold onto my chest and do army style leg-ups (pretending to know what that is). Lots of kettlebell too, I do bicep curls with it. This one is heavy.

Green tea is important these days also.

Went through some jewelry yesterday that my mom gave me awhile ago. She is so sweet.

I took a lot in this get-up I’ll save for my next post I don’t want Grammy people seeing how ridiculous I am more than necessary.

Can you tell I’m dying on the inside? No? Ok good. jkjkjkjk jeez

Have a nice day!

Update, this:

Norm follows me now why don’t you?

Vomments (6)
February 7, 2015

Please ignore my blog titles. Sometimes I think I’m being dark and witty then I save these sayings that come to me and by the time I get around to blog-using one it’s like, cool relevant?

I love to be obtuse. When I’m not busy being acute, that is.

Whatever. I’m funnier than you are.

I try not to get lost too much in the stupid things I profess. This post is only supposed to be about the handful of selfies I uploaded and nothing more today, but now I AM lost in explaining the method to the radness which an artist should never do, except I always do – can’t stop now.

Winter is very much feeling like a jail sentence. I have been watching a lot of this show called Banshee, do you know it? It’s that show where the sheriff is a guy who just blew into town out of jail, conning the town and it involves sexy Amish people (there’s this one chick you just gotta see, oh man) and more interesting back story going on in the show. A lot of nudity and violence.

I’ve also completed watching the first season of The Affair. So juicy that one, gets a bit dark and draggy but you’re sucked into the story and characters. It makes you think about relationships a lot, cheating, passion. What’s more important, your lust or keeping family together. I think an age-old conundrum and people get agitated about this subject because nobody wants to know if they’re being cheated on.

Went for a very needed tan with mom. Time to get that body ready.

Definitely have to do some cardio today. Boylord is getting together with Dave Love our drummer today! Something came up.

How I look w/o instagram filters not bad for an old lady

That bloaty paunch is gone now too. Well, reduced.

So yeah I guess I switched boyfriend teams… the other one has already been married before (twice) and not interested in doing it again and seeing as I am of a delicate age right now it’s time to sail on down the river hahaha. I am bummed I liked him. We had great sexual chemistry. Sayonara!

I’m not making a relationship the focal point of my life right now anyway, some changes are (a change is gonna come!) about to occur to keep me occupied and build my brand/career some more/there’s always more peen down the road. BUT, juicy gossip bomb, as it turns out you might recognize some of the surroundings I’ve been posting my selfie settings in.

Watching the affair, having one…

I will admit the vindication feeling is superb when someone breaks your heart, realizes they lost someone incred then fights to get you back for months and months and months. Now that I am back from the dead it’s different now humongously.

There is a distance now that must be earned back. I’m getting over the other guy. I feel sick all the time and have no appetite. I never tell this shit to you guys but whatever. I bleed like you do too I am not any better.

I will have to continue this conversation later though because we have a viewing this afternoon and I have some errands to do and hair dye to buy.

Yesterday my tits were famous a little bit. They got more fav’s and retweets than this by the time the russsssssh ended lol. I love bragging about my one secret famous friend who gives me advice every time I am about to do something stupid (and slutty) and he always says to go for it. So I went for it and #freethenipple rewarded me.

I cannot handle booze anymore. This was yesterday. See how I need to dye my hair real bad. Gonna get this superhero kinda red.

Face obsession done, fungrily yours,


Vomments (6)
February 6, 2015

Hi again it’s me your friend!

Lets just get right to it kay?

Stand-up joke I wrote yesterday, maybe possibly the most useful thing I did (aside from exercising then getting drunk on one glass of wine at dinner #lightweight):

A squirrel just watched me doing squats. Seriously watched me seriously into it. I need to adequately describe the moment with detail so that you get the humour of a squirrel watching a human do exercises.

Fuck it can’t be bothered.

He was a chubby squirrel, and cute, round, like they all are. Grey. He was eating something and staring at me, mesmerized, no, hypnotized!

I was squatting with my blue weights, which probably caught his eye or maybe my workoutfit did and the sun beating down into my window on me. I did a good twenty squats or so before realizing I was being watched.

Then all these thoughts flooded into my head about my life and maybe if I had one I wouldn’t be in a situation where squirrels were watching me all the livelong day. I could transcend squirrels and be watched by people, people wearing clothes going to jobs and living their lives. That fucking squirrel took me into the eye of myself and back again, shook me to my core that squirrel did.

The funniness of the situation struck me because we made eye contact and he knew that I knew that he acknowledged me as a living, breathing, being that day. He noticed me. What was he thinking man I dunno he’s a fucking squirrel he doesn’t care, he doesn’t “get” “it” nothing even matters to him and here I am having an existential crisis because my brain is eating and starving itself from this psychotic diet I am on and when you work out your mind is open and free like a desert.

If snow wasn’t everywhere right now I’d just go out running instead of trying to write humourous anecdotes about dumpster diving wildlife.

But so what! People love this crap. At least I think they do.

When I chose to write about my “laundry nemesis” years ago, the blog readers DIED for it. To this day I have Little Raymis referencing my laundry wars. It’s like the Seinfeld syndrome. People really relate and appreciate NOTHING. Your friend tells you a long drawn out story about an encounter in line at Starbucks and because your friend is funny and a drama magnet, this story has to be going somewhere right? Nope! Doesn’t have to and that’s the beauty you can take it anywhere when your brain is a non-stop running life dialogue and any person with the misfortune of getting into your hemisphere is granted their fifteen seconds. Lovely.

But anyway that is how you squeeze material out of a squirrel I guess I mean that’s how I just did it. Were any of you stroking your chins thinking “maaaaaaahvalous I just love these little pointless stories of whimsy..”

OR should I run down everything I thought about seeing Saul (Better call Saul fame!) on Jon Stewart as well as my opinions regarding Kathy Griffin and her Fashion Police show, more importantly, Kelly Osbourne’s mohawk (which she only seems to have done once?) God it’s so easy to just think, talk, and consume shit. Why is trash tv so easy to suck you in? Don’t answer, it’s rhetorical.

I also checked out some Louis CK last night and any time I watch stand-up comedians I study absolutely everything about them. Must be nice to be in your stride and never fuck up. I noticed in the audience that all his fans, the hefty white dudes particularly in the audience all sit with their arms insecurely crossed over their stomachs. It was distracting me from his material (of which I have no memory because I was hosed on only one glass of red wine which is the second time I have told you now and I am most definitely drunk still probably as well as sleep-deprived which means brain scrambled my favourite time to blog) but anyway, clearly my future stand-up fanbase will be comprised of look-a-like me’s I cannot wait.

Like how Gwen Stefani said at No Doubt shows the audience is full of Gwens. Her ego must be through the roof, sorry but you didn’t invent platinum hair Gwen or wearing tons of makeup with red lipstick but you certainly look the best at it so fine, you win.

I’m totally listening to Fashion Police in the BG right now. So jealous I want a job where I can just talk shit about everyone all day and say, “excuse me” “thank you” when I point out fashion flaws. Actually, I’d rather target the hosts instead because I don’t think you can make fun of women on the red carpet when your own old lady chicken under arm skin and multi-lined armpits are hanging out of your over-sequined dress and your hair is fourteen different tones of orange and blond, Kathy.

Or how Kelly absolutely fellates anyone who is “hot right now” who appears on the carpet no matter how stupid their look actually is. Ooh my blood is boiling she just made a dig about Jennifer Aniston’s boobs seeing red gotta go, I have given enough of my brain to this already. Thank you bye.

Bonus joke from yesterday: Neverland Ranch sauce frachise. Boom.

One more thing, I sent a body update (nude) photo to “my future/new boss” and was asked if I had a trainer which I interpreted as NEED a trainer because I am a blob and was suffering internally from an identity crisis (as usual) this whole time until the clarification thumbs up/good work email came in. Time for some sit-ups!

Have a great Friday, come help me pack.

Vomments (6)
February 5, 2015

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February 4, 2015


How’s it goooooooooing?

Me? Good, bad, ugly. Same old.

When you are the curator of a blog, it’s like running a colouring book. I mean, I spread myself around the webs a lot all day all night and comment all over the place, leaving zingers and slinging mud left right center, time well spent. Sometimes after a bender I’ll go back to jezebel and have all these notifications for all this crazy shit I said and feel super proud of wasting the entire fucking day prior being obnoxious to feminists – it’s called community building and outreach. I have been reading that site for years and years, I don’t really see much difference between the two of us. I mean, doesn’t everybody think they are right all the time on the internet, isn’t that why we are all here?

Anyway, if I had a jezebel site that I could easily just have based on all the online sleuthing I do, mine wouldn’t be wild click grabbing insanity with news slants intended to make a flame war in each comment thread.

I think my big mouth alone causes that organically and naturally to occur. Like when I expressed my feelings on bachelor parties when the hangover came out, boy that was a good one. Check it out all the original comments are there too still.

And I looked like that. I do not feel the same way I felt back then. So much insecurity wrote that blog post and other things I am too nice to mention.

Everyone seems to be killing time on Facebook these days all with their wrong opinions about stuff I know more about it feels close to time to be Perez fucking Hilton.

As smart as I am, I am well-obsessed with really stupid things like celebrities, celebrities with addictions, viral internet things, any of the previous with sex involved, musicians, musician’s beefs with other musicians and of course trying to get the attention of all of the above.

I think I just described everyone else on the planent just now.

When I worked in an office we would hunt through buzzfeed and be like, did you do that mermaid quiz yet? Okay well after that you have to do the which is your favourite pickle quiz and then read the latest update on the missing Malaysian flight plus there’s leaked nudes of blabbity blahh and so on.

Sometimes I get so entrenched in this garbage I lose all energy and won’t produce shit that day. My mind expands though, and I “know” “everything” and like with blogging many years ago, which justified all the partying and reckless behaviour I engaged in I always, always wrote as well as blogged because I felt that it made good with the bad. I preached to my friends that if I was wasting my youth I was going to at least account for and profit by it. SO now, if I insist upon online benders then I have to balance it out and give back.

Who knows, people might actually like it.

I don’t think you can write about yourself forever. Well you can but how many mirror selfies and pondering about the future blog posts, I’m sorry I know that is not interesting period. It’s plateau. It’s the very boring middle part of the movie and you are getting fungry.

Okay well I can give you some juice I suppose and make my next post an internet round-up, hope it isn’t a slow news day.

As you know I was dating a Dutch guy, back and forth for a bit I lived in Holland and he lived here. A lot have expressed interest in knowing how that one tanked.

We just let it die really and never officially broke up but it was clear it was over. A long distance relationship is crazy to inflict upon yourself but that we did. The alone parts are spent drinking. then when you date someone who lives in the same country near your street it’s like being in a porno afterward, so much contact.

The final ending phase chapter though is, as he was going to visit me for my champagne birthday (31 on the 31st, I am special) he and a bro did a pleasure trip to Brazil and drive the Florida Keys (during spring break no less, oh of course you’re gonna chase chicks) and suffice to say the guy was a big traveler I will give him that but when you’re in a long distance relationship your only traveling is suppose to be for the other person. Or that is MY selfish expectation about it!

He alleged that it was a cheap holiday (lied, was more like 4 grand) and was also not going to be in much communication with me. I found out at work on whatsapp and started shaking and crying and trying to keep it together then we had a routine phone conversation in the bathroom where I cried and hissed some more.

I was working 9-5 mon-fri and pining for this fucking guy, being a loner in my room and holding a torch when really I should have just moved on then.

So I decided to go to New Orleans and visit Leslie. By the second night I had driven her crazy because I was trying to get in contact with him he didn’t want to “sponsor” the phone company by checking in with me all the time which made me more irate. My plane ticket was last minute and expensive, my phone bill was like 800 bucks on top of this but it didn’t matter I included the phone bill as part of vacation expenses. Anyway, Leslie and I went out on Bourbon st (ate alligator) had no fun but tried (sorry Leslie!) I mean, we usually drink the first night then she’s over it and I am all wild give me more (despite complete exhaustion) and going bananas getting no Dutch love going crazy thinking about him being the star of that spring breakers movie and then screaming into the phone when we finally made a skype call happen then it cut out for a day.

So then Leslie and I went to a hipster pizza parlor and I saw this smoking hot guy who was totally my type and a bell went off in my head. I need to fuck this guy. I NEED to pick up this guy. This guy cannot leave here without having my number.

I begged Leslie to make it happen for me. I tried out all these pick up lines on her and she just laughed. I settled on waving three times at him (it was a sexy beckoning come on over wave) and he instincively just got up and walked right on over and I legit panicked because I had nothing prepared in my head to say! My mouth suddenly went dry and I said,

don’t I know you, don’t we know each other? You look really familiar…

…which brilliantly worked because he was a local celebrity and assumed everyone recognized him. EVERYONE is famous in New Orleans. Then Leslie saved my ass with some music-scene knowing shit, he gave me a card I think I asked for a card I always ask for a card because I think I’m in the wolf of wall street. Really it’s because I want to email you something ten times more hot than the crap coming out of my mouth IRL.

Sent him this pic taken the day before because he met me with my hair up and this was as hot as I looked at the time. I wanted to get him psyched about me.

So we get to sexting pretty obsessively. He said he was gonna “work out” which means “clean house” he also said “work” which turned into back and forth texting leading up to plans to meet that night why wait til tomorrow. Leslie made an I bet he’ll show you his rope joke. Ahh so hot. At the pizza place he had fallen for my anything to do around here line so we had made it like I was gonna bump into him the next day at some parade (?) but then all our horny correspondence degenerated into lets go to a show and drinks tonight and done.

I had a boyfriend and I did not fucking care because this is what happens when you piss me off long distance and I am pretty sure a don’t ask don’t tell policy was in-place, don’t ask don’t tell but highly suspect.

Also turns out pizza parlor guy was a shag of a friend of Leslie’s so drama was definitely going to go down if I went forward (and it did cos that woman saw us out together the next night) but fuck it, I am a tourist and I am here to taste the town. It was my third time in New Orleans and time to taste local meat. Ew gross sorry for dirty talk hahaa I do have some better material (for another time). I did go back again for Easter and I saw the Dutch guy in-between. Still don’t care. Then around May I joined tinder and that’s how I moved forward and my crush pining for New Orleans guy had to also die. All my friends were like well at least it’s closer than Holland this time Lauren haha fuck you.

This guy is like a Raymi the Minx out there, okay maybe more, some “famous” chef sent us over drinks that’s the kind of guy he was.

These drinks.

Leslie said that’s how you get over guys, you turn the fucking page.

If you want to see all the pictures from that trip click this.

So the next day I was super duper hungover but wanted to see him again, we went to see a band that night. Leslie was like he’s going to know all this music shit and cool stuff and it will all be wasted on you. I mean I did listen to him and he did have that magical quality and knows blues legends and music greats. He’s the reason why I like Sam Cooke so thanks for that.

I went back for a bunny crawl a month later. That was a good weekend. I missed my flight and had to stay another day which was nice but also like okay time to go bro. Waking up so early to get out of town was hell and I almost didn’t get a connecting flight but this flight agent or whatever could see how bug-eyed desperate I was to get out of Chicago she slipped me ahead of a couple which split them up and I felt awful but didn’t chime in and offer my seat why stop being evil now right?

They were a couple with their shit together while I was New Orleans hung, alone and shaking from fatigue. Arran was like you are going to have fun waiting and running through airports I bet your knees will buckle ahh cringe.

Anyway, that’s story time for today. BYE!

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