so a couple weeks back the same nite we went to see a movie in dundas square after that we head over to the fox ‘n fiddle cos it’s karaoke tuesday there. we aren’t pissed but we aren’t sober either. we sit down, sass and i put our names in to sing (i choose fleetwood mac’s hypnotized, dumb move, bail on it after 30 seconds then swap it for zeppelin’s babe i’m gonna leave you, even worse move, i haven’t even been able to bring myself to watch the video yet) and each order 1 beer. so while i’m singing, matt and fil are outside smoking (matt is) and sass is filming my shit show, i finish then start filming sass’s performance of genie in a bottle and then fil comes up to me to say he is leaving and matt has been cut-off. what cut-off why? he wasn’t even drunk. this has happened to him many times before, he just has an I AM SO DRUNK face i guess, that, combined with cursing like a sailor when he tells his matt stories gives the impression of whole-hog intoxication. so anyway i’m miffed cos we’ve been gracing that s-hole for three years now, it’s way below par on the raymi coolness meter, and that’s saying a lot cos i will drink fucking anywhere. so i go to our table and we divy up the bill which made me realise ok maybe we are ripped cos it was like trying to do grade ten advanced algebra and the reason i took business math come grade eleven. anyway we take our time finishing our beers to save face while also trying to figure out why the fuck the bouncer cut matt off and i’m getting fired up about it and decided well if they diss my friend then they diss me and i am never coming back here that’s final. on our way out we have a little chat with the bouncer who seemed to regret the decision when me miss bigmouth ambles on over, i lie and say we aren’t drunk and am extra careful with my words and trying super hard not to slur (on a scale of 1-10 of blasted i’m a 5 bordering on 6, not really so bad, but lubricated enough to talk like your uncle tom on boxing day, slow and stupid and deliberate) i say um we only had one drink why are you cutting off my friend we just arrived? he says he made a decision and he’s sticking with it and he knows we go there all the time (not really, more us than matt, and that’s only occasionally and after a nite of being beyond wasted we stagger to the fox to sing karaoke) i said well it was a bad one cos i’m never coming back there and he says he’s sorry and i say basically you dissed us (oh god what an idiot line) he says no he didn’t and gestures at matt like i dissed this guy not you i say yeah by association you did and that’s insulting (fight the power!) after how many times i’ve come to this bar (i think i said this with disdain) thanks sorry man bye. then we are outside and i’m feeling like i really took one for the team and only then does matt decide to fill me in on the last time he was there and how he was gong show drunk and couldn’t even see or walk so maybe it was because of that. um that’s kinda crucial information buddy. anyway, another bar off the annex drinking list, where is next?

i would also like to add that never in my life have i been cut off at a bar, i have been swinging from chandalier style trashed performing floor gymnastics and the like and not once have i been tapped on the shoulder.

some dicklicker anonymously sent me that adbusters hipsters OMG EXPOSE HIPSTERS ARE URBAN AND RIDE FIXED GEAR BIKES FIXED GEAR BIIIIIIIKES EXCLUSIVELY AND ONLY FIXED GEAR BIKES!!!!1 i had to fucking google what a fixed-gear bike even was, jesus. that article isn’t even about hipsters, it’s about SCENESTERS, those are the guys everyone hates. anyway the little baby said this about it Raymi, this is SOOO you. Don’t try to deny it. uh, thank you for revealing to me that you haven’t the first fucking clue about hipsters. firstly, i’m not bitter enough to be a hipster, or listen to obscure enough music (i heart kylie minogue for shit’s sake) and i don’t go to after hour parties, or any of those considered “hip-worthy” parties, but you from your nerdy little internet perch think that these scattered images on my blog add up to hipster? fwah. there’s not a chance in hell a hipster would deem ME a hipster, all hipsters are islands of themselves, i wouldn’t even be on their radar. the point is, that article is a hack piece and didn’t unearth anything i didn’t already know four years ago. am i a hipster? i don’t know and i don’t care, for se’ers though? i don’t even think i am cool enough and i’m not young enough anymore, that’s the truth. ps. i read the piece last fucking week, you old piece of shit. i liked what sbonerscarnage had to say about it though.

ok i take back the not cool enough comment, because i am cool, real cool, not poseur cool and i don’t jump onto fads, and i don’t need to go out to be SEEN, anyway, i don’t want to start a fucking cool riot, it’s a slippery slope to point at yourself and proclaim COOL, it’s just an unspoken and obvious thing you don’t say it out loud, you just is. i can’t help if all of a sudden it’s nothing but a disneyland explosion of kids in skinny jeans without an original thought in their heads crapping up the scene.

i’m proud of what i am and who i am, some days suck, and some are alright, but at the end of each one i’m happy in the thought that i will always be cooler than you, fuck, 3000 of you visit here everyday and that’s not cos i’m talking mathematics.

oh guess what, I’M HAVING ANOTHER ART SHOW IN OCTOBER!

if we’re chatting online, this is why i make a thousand typos. apologies.

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i think it’s safe to say affirmative on the implants.

worst mondays a la juicebox interviewed me and on friday the other half will go up.

here’s a teeny blurb:

There was probably a time when I reloaded Raymi’s blog more than my own email, mostly because she actually updates that much (we could take a cue). This was a revelation– a time-killing mega-distraction on a pre-Mark Zuckerberg Internet. For some, it’s hard to pinpoint the appeal of her blog, outside of the blankfaced voyeurism it affords with little to no censorship. Its been referred to as everything from performance art to soft porn (and thus occasionally blocked on the computers of those with real-people jobs), and she gets written about by everyone from Eye Weekly to Drunken Stepfather. I dunno, we just like her. And other people must too because she has lots of those weird little Best Blog in Canada/the-Universe awards on her site, and more hits than we could dream of this side of becoming a Warren Kinsella hate forum. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt her rad factor that she’s related to Jack Kerouac.

EVERYONE DO ME A SOLID AND VOTE FOR MY BUDDY SAMIR! you have to register, just takes a sec, hit ‘cntrl f’ and search for SAMIR, or just scroll down, he’s nominated for Direction in a Series for Cock’d Gunns – you have to do this because i was in an episode and i did the signature limp wrist raymi wave that embarrasses me right down to the bottom of my soul and also because samir is fucking talented. thank you in advance!

sigh

also hello where do i get peacock feather earrings?

Steph: urban outfitters
me: what?
way to go tard wrong person
OH earrings
ahhahahahahhaha
Steph: who’s the tard?
me: SHUTUPYOURFACE

HAHAHAHHAHA i have to post it again slightly different because i have the sense of humour of a ten year old this reminds me of swiss chalet dinners drawing ugly pictures of my entire family, both my brother and i would, on the other side of our paper place mats and then snap the shirly temple swords on the table and the ends would fly across the room. fucking monster kids. this one time at pizza hut my brother cleared out entire booths surrounding ours from one long solid disgusting belch, like the one will ferrell does in the movie elf. it was when indiana jones came out, don’t remember which one, i do remember being pissed off the kid’s meal toy was paper diorama harrison fords.

memory lane post from when i got my tongue pierced. the gap between my two front teeth has since pretty much closed up. don’t even get me started on how stupid my hair was and that sweater belonged to the dude i saw a few times who lived/was friends of the death from above guys before they were death from above. they had a band together too that he dropped out of, i bet he regrets that move. he never got the sweater back, asked for it once we were done, i think i cut it down the middle, sorry kev. that’s the raymi fyi tidbit for today, i got lots. all the other unrelated stories coming to mind right now strictly involve cocaine and i don’t really feel like going down that memory road right now, ha road, more like highway. jokes guy jokes, maybe more like a memory cul-de-sac or a subdivision. omg i hope this isn’t only funny to me right now.

i had the worst sushi from e sushi last nite, a spicy tuna tempura roll, and the tuna was minced, not whole, it was way too fishy. those m’f’ers are on a time-out. i gave them not one but TWO indoor monsoon ceiling rain chances, this is strike three. the second rain time was even worse than the following…

me: look

Phil: wtf i was winning yesterday

me: i dont know if this is considered actual winning

Phil: ha

me: ha

yesterday

and cid today

dude just has to cuddle any object chucked on the bed, i could put a dripping-in-blood chainsaw on it and he’d find a way to cozy on up.

oh and thanks everyone for the push-up bra quips THEY’RE NOT PUSH-UP BRAS just reg. bras with like a mile thick layer of foam. i’m not as flat as i look, the way my jublies party is like a wonky-eyed dude with both pupils pointing in opposite directions but when you stuff ‘em in a bra, up they go all that stretched-out overlooked area and BAM! i’m stacked. i’m also on period tits time at the moment.

two films on raymi’s movie radar list:

blindness (click for trailer) – because losing vision is one of my many irrational fears, i would be so totally depressed if that happened, and terrified, and i would never get to look at myself in a mirror ever again (sob), or see fil’s face, sigh. after seeing beautiful things in this world having your sight taken away, ugh. worse than being deaf cos at least then you wouldn’t be alone in the dark. i always remember every scary movie involving blind girls, like jennifer eight, eek!

film 2:

hamlet 2. sass brought this up on sunday and it struck a chord, mostly cos i didn’t really know what the fuck she was talking about. i figure if sass shows interest in xyz pop culture i should make an effort to pay attention, she’s three years my junior, oh god i’m turning into one of those “you keep me young” chicks GROAN brutal!

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source

love phronk

Raymi,

Take care girl, you’re the best!
Sarah.

oh and check this out.

sassephine: as for the link you did about the comments
Raymi, you are a national institution much like the CBC and Toronto Star now what with closing down comments

AND i did it before i read that article.

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Hi Raymi

Alys