absolutely nothin’ like traveling through a field of tall green pre-hay wildflowers by car you can just stick your hand out and touch ‘em all then there’s a break between where a patch has been plowed and the sun is about to set and all stress just leaves you completely.

made it to camp just in time for the sun to go down behind the trees. i was impressed by how organized everybody was, you in this boat you in that boat come on fireworks time lets go.

there’s a few live fences, some on some off, pretty funny when ten drunks come upon each one, like a town meeting, is it on or off, no matter not touchin’ it anyway so why are we still talking? anyway this fence has one on the other side of it, and it was off.

150 year old sickle? i kinda spaced on that explanation. twice. basically this tree has grown and we know that by that thing stickin’ in it (a means of sectioning off field, a fence tie or something) what would have been at its base many many years ago. basically that sickle deserves an award.

chargin’ m’f-ers.

this wire was live.

it’s true, i love it here. they do farm country right.

fil kept that cooler on his person the entire nite, even later on back at the campsite, so funny like relax maybe?

there is also nothin’ like watching fireworks from a canoe where you can feel the blast reverberate throughout your body and hear the echo off the water and all down the shoreline. it sounds like someone’s banging on an aluminum shed down the street after each firework blast. awesome is what i mean.

i didn’t get a paddle. fil likes to think that i am incapable of paddling and that paddling is the most precisive craft ever like you need a degree to paddle ugh engineers. that’s fine, free hands, one for champage one for camera.

i have sussed that when i dump upwards of 100 photos onto flickr all at once a few get scattered out of sequence. here’s one of those. what’s up sean ready for the light show? awwlright.

accidentally grabbed jim’s paddle had to float over and give it back. jim is a-ok cos he said all weekend long “raymi rocks” more and moreso the more concussed we got. a couple visits back at the children’s table i drew a picture of something stupid and wrote raymi rocks on it, clearly etching an ever-lasting impression upon jim’s psyche. that’s how i do!

finding each other on the water was fun and funny. birdman and colleen paddled down from camp around the bend, we could hear his big mouth and whistling from shore.

jim and sean.

bottomless champagne bottle holy shit passed it around for hours it felt and couldn’t finish it. at one point i had bubble overload in my mouth had to spit it all out all over my hair. a huge ass firework startled me, good timing to have a mouth full of fizz water.

beauty. beats a lawn chair seat any day.

colleen’s dad is pretty wicked, guy with back to camera and duder with him is hilarious.

couple people went right through their canoe seats. not me though. you have to be careful when fidgeting in the boat, if you turn around to talk to someone you can tip the thing so easy. guess how many lectures i got.

brilliant. knowing a few firework enthusiasts and i myself being schooled in how much they’re worth, i’d say that display was quite pricey. more than quite in fact they were collecting donations the day after.

seriously what is this photo doing here.

spectacular!

so you see that light in the middle kinda reflected kinda cut off, that would be the waterfall drop. we drifted pretty close good thing i completely forgot all about it otherwise nervous naggy woulda came out.

if you’re wondering why this was even going on it was heritage day fest.

i was trying to get a picture of me and my new friend the firework.

after one particular phenom blast i screamed out THAT WAS THE SHIRE! and rob goes that SO was the shire. Lord of the Rings geeks stick together.

closer to the edge! at the time did i know it? nope!

water gypsies.

off to the beer tent to see rugged phil’s band (birdman’s bro) and this cat was purely disgusted by all of it. at one point saw it scamper through the back lot and by the time we left it was back on its property. why are cats so annoyed by certain things yet insist on stickin’ it out, like when i unload the dishwasher cid is mewling his balls off at all the clinking dishes and cutlery uh dude if you are hating this so much you know you can just leave you don’t have to stand right by my heels. i think cats have a deep need to oversee any and all activities always. they’re like useless spies that report to nobody.

rules cat. that’s what i will call you and you get the double point.

and one more in case you didn’t feel me on it the first time.

oh man here we go, so many goofs on the scene. red/white stripes i was lookin’ for just one more excuse to give him a punch in the head by. you’ll see why in a minute.

stellar performance.

another stellar performance. kudos on the cigar. do you think this guy takes any shit or gives a rat’s ass about feelings?

kinda an andy capp vibe no?

beer line mob.

woah check that mean ass look in the background.

wasted already fil? thank god for that french bread cheese and butter at camp.

i just remembered some chick tried to cruise me on the way to the bathroom she stopped me and was like are you single, no why? ahh forget it who cares like me not being single she is somehow able to break me out of that then i show her my ring and say i’m engaged actually she says so what you’re not married! she was not hot or girly (not my type basically). i said i’ll be right back after the bathroom. later on i overheard her bragging about some alleged 14 girl hotel party orgy to a dude.

birdman got us doubles. then we flasked it. remember fil and his cooler? yeah well i don’t think one beer was purchased after the initial one thanks to that cooler.

red/white stripe and fil caught in the line of fire. he was being a bro’d out jock fucker and disrespecting this elder drunk, just messin’ with him. it makes me feel hugely uncomfortable to see that and i feel obligated to get involved. but i am just a wimpy girl and not allowed. i think that’s even better cos if i hit him he can’t hit me back, though it would get everyone else involved, therefore a no-go.

at one point i was talking to rugged phil on the stage and this teeny aggro clown jock starts going WOOOH YAHH and other stupid shit over the mic to the crowd until they turned the mics off. why do i hate these guys so much? maybe cos they’re so clichéd, the guy from highschool who thinks he’s a star, never grows up, goes to beer tents and picks fights with the one person who makes a point to inform them they’re fucking tools then harasses them for the rest of the nite.

one week’s worth of skinny work outright destroyed every single weekend. such is life.

what is the point of your shirt derek? wash your hands?

oh it’s you again.

i liked that this guy (and many others) felt the need to approach the stage to do “rock on” horns at phil multiple times.

long hair got to sing alice in chains with the band while guy on the right asked me to hold his beer so he could dance with a cougar hahahahaha so i, of course, held it, my pleasure. they held hands did the chapel, the steeple, twirled around like ring around the rosey. all awesome. those moments i live for.

lots of that. blond girls in the background were on E i think, i overheard some chatter in the bathroom and i’m glad they denied it to me cos i woulda bought some for everyone hahaha yes that’s what the nite needed, ecstasy what am i 16?

i don’t think you would want to mess with this dude. just a guess.

speaks japanese when wasted.

hahaha.

hi colleen. i like the matching outfits behind us.

wicked.

i told that woman this was a skinny mirror. i swear it was! she looked at me like i was insane like girl, you are just skinny, it’s not the mirror.

so glad i packed those little bastards, it was intentional. one of us plans ahead. they were annihilated in under a minute.

when in rome.

wicked.

yet again chopping this in quarters. next S.W.O. post will contain the exodus back to camp and drinking game photos.

this is how you make friends in a small town.

you’re welcome and good luck. remind me to tell you about almost falling off a cliff off the side of a dirt path and down a steep hill riddled with shrubs brush rocks and trees. oh guess i just did. wicked.

so read this as COME SPOTS WONT COME OUT ahaha sick. that white residue on the rod is from duct tape, a failed attempt to thwart fil from sliding all his shit over to my side of the closet. total bone of contention between us. i have to empty threaten him with my famous i’ll do something you won’t like if you don’t stop doing that line constantly. well lately all i’ve been doing is hanging up more of my stuff to fill up the empty spaces.

when the hell else can i wear this thing other than xmas time?

bjork story time. i’ll keep it short. when i was 18 and lived in maine i had my own radio show (it was volunteer and a brand new station) called there’s something about raymi (hahah shut up) and my blog was linked on the station’s website for a few days until they realised the content and overall nature of it but that was just enough time for my listeners to find and bookmark it (in hindsight i should have just plugged it on air during every show)(i also have a couple recordings of the show that makes me crazy embarrassed magenta in the face as i sound uber young yet really reserved and shy, kinda endearing i guess ugh. i talked about canada a lot) anyway on my blog at the time i had an amazon wishlist and this bjork vespertine album was one of the items i wanted so one of my fans bought it (from a music store, not off the wishlist) and left it at the radio station for me, cute eh? someone else also bought me a hello kitty dayplanner with an electronic digital thing on the face. ok that is the story of this cd which clearly i still have. the person said when i listen to it i should think of rockland, maine (where i lived) and i do.

on our way southwest i remember feeling v happy in the car. i was about to share that tidbit with fil but then someone cut us off on the highway and my heart started fluttering, then i forgot to tell him hey fil I WAS EXTREMELY HAPPY IN THE CAR WITH YOU WITH THE SUN BEATING DOWN ON US AND THE WIND IN OUR HAIR.

magic hour.

dinner is served.

interesting thing to say about brown. at smarties i bet they were like, nostalgic, run it! any americans out there like smarties, can you get them there? i thought they were invented in canada, not true, but are so prevalent here because Nestlé’s largest production facility for Smarties is in Canada, read more about it on wikipedia. i think i like them more than m&m’s cos of the british similarity in chocolate flavour which in my opinion cannot be beat.

left these behind at sean’s haha burn. on our way back from the catskills we bought pepperoni cheese pizza flavoured combos. my review, um, fat. the first ten are good but after that you just hate yourself more and more and are somewhat sickened yet can’t stop cos you’re starving.

i peeled the nutrition facts sticker off and it revealed the fat amount used to be 5g per a smaller portion. liars.

crazy wind saturday, huh?

made it to town to spy on the street party but had to detour around it as sean’s house was on the other side.

recognized some of these faces at the beer tent later on that evening. rugged phil’s band played (amazing too) like 50 alice in chains songs. i bet fil’s layne staley tattoo was throbbing. anyway that girl in the foreground is the gf of one of birdman’s nephews. birdman was like that’s my nephew, talk to him and that’s his gf. i said dude no way that kid wants to talk to me, his gf is miles out of his league (puberty-wise) kid cannot even acknowledge another girl til he gets dumped. true fact sorry. cute guy anyway. all them 15 yr olds snuck into the beer tent. nice.

backyard whimsy.

grapefruit snacking.

where we crashed.

ok that’s all for now the sun is calling me.

i’ve been nagging jamie to help design a new card for awhile now, getting pretty desperate in fact i’m down to maybe ten cards left of the first design. all i had in mind was antique/vintage valentines for a theme and there it is. LOVE IT. thanks jamie!

this back house was used for storing dynamite. it has a concrete roof. like a bunker. there you learned something.

a girl at this coffee shop said she liked my shirt. compliments when you’re hung out of your life are the best.

for the price of our place in toronto (which we do not own) we could buy this building. get a tenant to pay our mortgage and i could run a fanciful store on the main floor and blog about all my eccentric customers. we want to be home owners so bad. i restrain myself from buying knick knacks and cool shit from yard sales and antique shops. no point until you have a place to permanently display all that crap.

this epic beauty belongs to the owner of the most successful strip club in london.

sean said it reminds him of the disney haunted mansion.

easy now.

territorial mother.

collective sigh.

the nite previous i almost went down that thing. so glad i didn’t, check what my ass’d have gone through at the bottom. pleasant.

traveling office. thankfully we did not end up camping. floor mattress it was and pretty comfortable sleeping actually. just before i woke up around 9 i was dreaming about kathleen eating crab legs tempura, like super long spindly deep friend motherfuckers. it wrenched me out of sleep and i almost spewed. luckily i was able to go back to sleep til about noon when birdman showed up to say bye.

i get to buy new flats as the right one has cow patty all over the side.

fil always has to dial his old house in mississauga from this phone which isn’t plugged in. normal.

came upon two enterprising adorable girls so we bought a cup each. i had iced tea, the boys had blueberry watermelon juice. combined we gave them 3.50 this reminds me of a joke i made the nite before, i called someone an entrepreneur but i forget why, though i am certain it was hilarious whatever it was.

tried to capture this last time we visited but it was nite and my flash kept bunging it up. got it this time. happy.

the healthy breakfast i am surprised i was able to get down considering the circumstances. i walked into town by myself in search of a pharmacy (hangover supplies) both were closed but in-walking i was sorted out just fine, and the coffee did wonders. i met the guys to have breakfast after that while they had milkshakes, after both consuming greasy spoon of their own. fil poured a cup of coffee into his. we used to put vanilla ice cream in our espressos i feel like i am talking too much about nothing right now.

hilarious to me as this is placed on a teeny field beside a river with a ten foot waterfall drop. why would anyone want to drive their camaro on that?

maybe i was a flower in a past life. just kidding i don’t believe in reincarnation. just kidding, i was a microphone.

this is where we watched the fireworks from the nite before, it was pretty windy and our canoes drifted a lot from the current, i had no idea we were that close to the shelf. that’d have been hilarious and terrible if we went over. some of our boats were tied together too hahaha. loads of pictures and videos of all that later.

nice hair.

this wreath kills me. i have a wreath weakness. probably thanks to my mother.

i attempted to hang out in the backyard but was riddled with some mighty ADD.

fil and sean’s grandfather (or great grandfather?) ran the brunswick house and it sure as shit is nothing close to as distinguished as is depicted in this painting. i have photos of a billy club he kept behind the bar, it has a lead covered end, it’s at fil’s mom’s oh there goes the laundry bell bye.

feat. my firework reviews where i do not sound like a hosehead at all. wait’ll you see/hear the rest ugh.

we had to walk through the field to collect cousin sean‘s car from the nite before and the entire party of cows were slowly making their way from one field to the next then coming right at us, just ambling, until they saw us. sean declared we should make a wide berth detour around them i was thinking fuck that (in order to go around them it would require running through the wide open field, and running would set them off, no thanks) and beat it on over to the trees which in hindsight is what probably spooked them into charging full throttle (they’re skittish) about 60 of ‘em and they’re a good 1000lbs each give or take. fil found that experience to be exhilarating. yeah maybe after the fact cos we came out unscathed buuuut i dunno, a good ten or so took the other half of the grove route, encircling us. it was a very national geographic moment in time. plenty of bulls in the mix and mama cows and their young, probably more dangerous than a bull if you accidentally get between them. also, cows are curious creatures and it freaks you out pretty bad cos they stop and stare at you, fifty faces all in a row and then one sneezes unexpectedly, you (me) get spooked and scream then the herd flinches and the biggest one of the bunch comes the closest. very on edge. not to mention the live fences. it was scary because i felt helpless regardless of the tree, i almost fucking climbed it when i saw the other cows coming up behind us.

love this radio.

keep refreshing this post/page i’m adding more and more to it.

hey check out this house, bet some open minded people live here yeah?

casa de racisto comin’ right up. remember i had a chat with a skinhead once, here it is.

just a quick hello steppin’ in to show you what i’ve been up to over the last 24 hours. how’s your sunday, good? great.

i bid you adieu now from beautiful south western ontario.

found that stray glass of wine someone was looking for. stefan do you weigh yourself every time you wake up? (that’s when your weight is at its lowest, favourite time to hit the scale).

totes sobes.

ran out of glasses, people got creative. fil brought me a giant plastic measuring cup (more like plant watering trough or for flour, baking haha) of water at nite’s end. ridiculous.

nicely done. i smell geek.

carla is double-jointed.

my beer bottle bullshit trick has been usurped.

stefan’s basement (grotto) is a museum of a party from two months ago. like 50 empties on the table. funny.

proudly showing off his jay of jay and silent bob statue. (he also has a light saber haha).

jason mewes signed it i forget what it said and you can’t even make it out.

everyone kept going to 7-11 for smokes and funny shit.

stefan called me an angel last nite ha i know! right after we discussed how abrasive he initially found me to be (from all the pictures i was taking haha) one of his favourite stories to tell. a lot of people in fact greatly enjoy telling me their first raymi experience/impression stories. hey guess what guys, you sucked too! the overwhelming consensus is skinny raymi is way more fun than fat raymi to hang with. another cool chick named brea said i was intimidating but knew i was cool and loved my outfit (don’t forget to email me!)

team star wars.

mick hates his photo being taken. he ok’d this one. i do it right guys don’t worry.

hi karen. betty don’t forget our lunch date.

very jungly save for that utility pole.

kenny’s sister miriam (rules) and that testees guy. i went to the party with a wicked high bun cos i went tanning, was greasy, and the bbq was a last minute deal (great success it was too).

nice one kenny. pfft.

this was funny to me at the time.

this should be your dating profile pic. LOVER OF DOGS AND COGNAC.

ben had much to say about dogs. it got a little heated. i secretly recorded some of it too.

bodhi cashed out.

immediately following telling him to get over himself.

thumbs-uppereenie. fil said he knew i’d like it.

brendan haunts my flickr, not my blog. he enjoys the out of context photos. never comments. lurker4lyfe.

pierre aka mr. peeps – biggest snob there. wicked dude all the same.

artistic finch.

cutie sharpie.

i told audrey i thought i loved pierre but obviously i didn’t know what love was until i met dora. there is no way she’s givin’ that dog back to her mom. no way not possible.

that’s some clean hanging plant you got there. i’ve seen plenty grey gardenesque shit but not here.

yesterday’s tan was amazing. i had a milk banana strawberry shake from that new place beside the bloor cinema (try it, they’re independent, no jugo juice shit in the ‘nex no thank you) and it was great, returned a canvas that wouldn’t fit any of my frames (spaced on the measurements i suppose) tanned, hit shoppers, got home right as sharpie texted about the bbq and off we went. i give last nite 5 stars. cos at least five stars were at the party, me included. (oh shut up).

kenny put his shirt on backwards, at first i thought it was some kind of hipster haute couture look. nope, just an idiot.

you can sorta make it out of the blurry, the dog is rockin’ a pink rocket.

got it right earlier in the nite.

oh i remember you.

pre-vader.

ankle socks dude. let me be your personal stylist for hire. srsly. (anyone else needing help lemme know).

this morning err afternoon i woke up cos i was dreaming about a unicorn i had as a kid that was purple, pink, blue, silver with pink hair and i was wondering if it was at my dad’s still cos if it is i want to bring it here, shampoo/condition its hair and display it with my blythe doll and that other weird one. short of that i need to buy a unicorn that looks exactly like it. extremely important. alicia would understand. then i also realized that my first born better be a girl or my son better be gay.

BYE we’re goin’ camping for my first time ever. i don’t think tenting on the balcony or inside a cottage counts as roughing it. i doubt there’ll be wifi. sad face. BUT there’ll be fireworks. HAPPY FACE.

it’s been awhile since we’ve had a good old fashioned raymi rant in these parts so here i go. this one is entitled HOW I FEEL ABOUT TAKEN MEN GOING TO STRIP CLUBS. yes, nothing bad can come of this ha.

so it’s been on my mind since we watched the hangover (if you haven’t seen it i’m not really going to give any spoilers away, i mean, they go to vegas so one can only assume strippers are involved) and great film can’t wait to see it again. i actually started formulating this when the trailer first hit, more like a don’t even CONSIDER a vegas boys weekend ever guy to fil (oh boohoo poor fil here’s a preemptive fuck you to all the guys just in case) and that was it. then we watched the movie and afterward i said you know, here’s my two cents, firstly, strip clubs are not a right of passage before marriage. i do not get why they are synonymous with bachelor parties aside from the pervert drunk louse friends (every guy has one of those friends and we have our eye on you buster) who want a gander at the expense of their buddy’s life “about to be over” therefore he NEEDS to have the ass of another woman in his face one last time before the fun stops. sorry i don’t plan on being miserable for the rest of my life either but this negative mindset placed onto women at the start of marriage is the dude’s fault, a stereotype that gains more and more clout over time until it becomes true.

here’s the thing, if you are going to get wasted and party with strippers then i am going to get wasted and strip for men. i’m going to perv out all over them. if you are going to celebrate with loose women then i will be loose with men.

how come it’s ok for men to go out with the boys to the club while women stay at home playing penis drinking games hoovering wine then some cheesy dude stripper who can’t even be considered human comes in bobbling his banana hammock and that’s somehow even? no offense to those bachelorette parties, i’m just trying to make a point here and that point is jealousy.

do i feel jealous visualizing my boyfriend staring up at naked chicks with perfect bodies? um i have a pulse, so, yes. women who allow their men to go out to strip clubs and appear as if they do not care about it are fucking liars. or worse, they actually no longer care about their men. that’s heartbreaking to me. you should feel flattered by my jealousy actually cos the moment i stop making a fuss that means i am OVER YOU. like one time i let a girlfriend of mine blow an ex bf right in front of me, i let that same chick do it to two different guys on separate occasions actually, and i could see in both the guy’s stupid faces how lucky they felt and happy and were completely elated WOW hit the fucking lottery here this must mean something. yes it does mean something and that being i’m beyond over you and this is how i’m letting you down easy with a beej from my whore friend. pretty generous if you ask me. (it’s a sneaky dirty trick you can bring up later on when the guy is sobbing and saying nasty desperate things you just passive aggressively remind him that he got blown by your friend in front of you so who’s the one who cares about whom now?)

here is an article i found on jezebel earlier this week that reminded me of all this, it’s their take on a piece written on that AskMen site 5 Lies All Women Tell written by Madeline Murphy and originally published two years ago then revived for some reason again (that’s rather telling) anyway read it all but specifically this part stood out for me:

2. “I don’t mind if you go to strip clubs with the boys.” This is a lie that women tell to make themselves seem “less pathetically needy.” This is another no-win situation for women. Either they are liars and hate their boyfriends for having a little harmless fun the boys (by objectifying naked strangers) or… well, if you aren’t needy and insecure, than I guess you are not a real women. Murphy instructs men to handle this situation by not going to strip clubs; “You’re probably better off just not going. Ask yourself: Are two hours of bare booty worth weeks, even months, of bitchy comments?”

Winner: Tie. Men are deprived of the privileged of spending a “boy’s night out” ogling naked women, but women are insecure harpies bent on securing their boyfriend’s unhappiness.

and here are my replies to this:

raymi
07/08/09
if men should be allowed to go hang with strippers then women should be allowed to hang with strange men and be slutty with them while doing it. fair is fair.

raymi
07/09/09
@chancentrate: it makes a point – if you are going to stray from me, then i am going to stray from you. how is that NOT like for like? the visual of that is what would get to him.

deep down, well not even all that deep down, i want to be a stripper, but i can’t because girls like me know you only become a stripper as a last resort and various other stigmas. plenty of women want to be strippers. how many annoying feminist-driven debates have you been privy to regarding stripping? ugh nevermind spare me (it’s empowering raaaaah own your sexuality zzzz don’t be an object BE a subject what?!) all the music videos we love to get hard to how close to simulated sex are they? how come super famous entertainers (actresses, singers) can do it and get away with it but one person in your circle finds out and you get nothing but shit for it? why are other women allowed to strip, and essentially we and anyone we know, aren’t?

i suppose it’s the narcissist in me that craves that sort of attention and there is no feminist justification (excuse) behind it at all, it is purely animal at base, simple. men want to look and women want to be that package they look at. i want MY man to look AT ME in that way and if he walks out the door to look at another woman in that way, i see that as a failure.

why has showing my nipples (pretty tame if you ask me) garnered so much flack that it’s not even worth it anymore? why has that put me in the only popular because shows nudity category? guess the types who peg me as that btw: OTHER WOMEN and geeky men who get 5 visitors to their blogs a day. not going to bother with the other women thing as there’s a wack load of tiresome reasons i can’t be bothered with right now. as for the geeky, sorry fine, ordinary man, who wants to jerk off to porn on the internet to a nameless faceless starlet, why does it incense you so much to find out a woman has a personality behind those nipples? you are irritating and your conclusions are lazy. F.

a little off topic there sorry.

i almost forgot one of the points of this entire thing ha – so in the hangover one of the guys (total doormat controlled by bitch wife) finally gives it to her regarding where he’d been that weekend (lied) and to make us champion him more this woman is painted in an all out totally unlikable fashion. as a woman it plays on your emotions and makes you identify with her a little bit to the point where you feel like a total psycho, if you have any issues with control, being in control or losing control, i dunno, it’s pretty hypocritical cos the guys go on a complete tear yet she is a monster. anyway, when he finally gets it out that they were in vegas with strippers she flips and asks WHY and he states BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT MEN DO. he might have said guys. no matter. back to my point, or questions rather, if that is what guys do, then as women, what do we get to do that’s of equal magnitude cos all i can think of is BE strippers and have our asses spanked by strange men. don’t like picturing that dudes? THEN DON’T GO TO THE FUCKING STRIP CLUB!

thoughts?

also, i know of a strip club (pure gold) in the burbs that will not allow women in unless they are accompanied by a male and the reason for this is because women kept storming the door causing scenes and embarrassing the (wealthy established) clientele, dragging their men out. that is absurd. what is this the fucking flintstones and pure gold, the lodge? how helpless, neglected, and alone those women must feel.

ps. happy face sticker is still up. when did i stick it there, i think around my birthday so late march.

check out these tights!