not to be a lesbian or anything but happy birthday.

all images blatantly ripped from http://jblyth.com/blog.html

see ya sooners!

had a meeting yesterday at the hyatt with a book agent. yeah that’s right muhfuckers. dressed like a pilgrim with wild animal hair for it, why front right? maybe i will start dressing like flava flav. felt good about the meeting.

i realised i had missed the city maybe a little when i got up to leave. i think it’s an advantage being away from it though, in terms of writing. why do people living in the city want to read about other people living in the city? their lives are pretty much exactly like everybody else’s. why do i care about you bettering your urbaneness over there when i’m trying to do the exact same over here? i will go back to being angry and one-upping you now.

guy is good shit. funny. gets it.

looooove people watching at the hyatt.

love people watching period. but especially up there.

apparently i look to be ten years older than the age i “claim” to be.

a HUGE chunk of red chicken fell out of my mouth nearing the end of this thing, they took it off the bill. that wasn’t my intention at all i just wanted them (experts) in the kitchen to look at it and tell me if it was raw or not. in case i barfed the world last nite they decided to cover their ass.

huge beer stein much? 32 oz. a fuck rush hour prancing pony pint.

thinking about h&m.

went to the red rooster on a whim and look who should be there, holly and gang hey dewds what’s up? sorry had to bail the guy right before you needed to be set on fire. eyebrows waxed, MAKEUP, he looked like jonathan taylor thomas plus corey haim and he kept hornily shaking his guitar and singing songs about banging his girl and being in love and so on. wife beater, fake ‘n bake tan, spiked up hair that looked painted on. the comedy just wrote itself. oh yeah FREEDOM SCARF in the original colour style, black/white. i didn’t take a photo why?

Hey raymi,

Allison

not sold yet, why?

Gossip Folks (not my title) don’t forget to “like” it (star it?)

a little blurb:

I was never allowed to say, “Guess what, I’M HUUGE!” (whether fact or fiction), you just don’t do that in Canadiana, and you don’t dare ever whisper of any intent of becoming so either. Then, if and when it happens, you still shut up about it lest you jinx it. When shit is flung, you have to pretend you don’t care. You must return from whence you came, no big deal zone. It’s so easy in Toronto to just dismiss everything and everyone. People fiercely love or hate something in Toronto. I am one of those somethings.

so after japanese it was time for a tan. the salon i favour had this really young un-smart chick working the front counter. once we were done making fun of the chav-looking dude in the front we go in. sidenote: aren’t tanning salons like the weirdest atmospheres ever? just a hallway of rooms with naked people in them desperately wanting to enhance the appearance of their bodies and everything is decorated like hawaii plus the most cheesed-out posters of tanned bronzed saved by the bell styled beach people grinning down at you. basically LOVE the shit. this is pretty much how the convo with tan girl goes, like two brick walls talking it was, on account of her low-iq and my being gunned.

me: hi is a super bed available? (assumed general standard known industry term for HIGHEST WATTAGE BULB bed. shorter time required for a darker tan i mean, DUH).

her: i don’t know what that bed is.

me: (totally confused) silent staring. uhm. ok.

her: silent staring

dave: SILENT

me: ok so whatever you call ‘em, turbo beds?

her: i don’t know what that is

me: (holy shit is this happening i am too baked for this non-conversation right now desperately hoping, waiting to bump into a smart person) uh ok so like the strongest bed you know? turning to dave for help…

dave: (is a statue)

me: (wild eyed, look to girl as well as chalkboard behind her head scanning for what i am trying to express what i want)

her: (BALL FINALLY DROPS) royal bed?

me: YES

the rest of the conversation is pointless. i just felt like a prisoner trapped in a stupid vortex. time stood still like that cop who called 911 when he and his wife ate weed brownies except i didn’t think i was dying, time just went by really really slow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1kTZRcKZ6Y

scott i have your tie (still). guy comes over last summer to hang but also to specifically collect this jesus tie to wear onstage while performing in his screamo whatever the fuck band (what are you guys called again?) anyway, it fell off him on the way out the door. scott rules. i dare you to try and decipher his blog. we went to high school together and i used to refer to him as the jesus cos he had the grossest beard ever and long hippie hair and dressed like a total skid. he’s fucking hysterical too. he’s a streetsville legend which is also hysterical. when he goes back to town (from montreal) he has to go in all stealth lest a bunch of wieners show up on his lawn demanding another house party. one of these epic shit shows i went to was the last time i saw louis, who died of meningitis in a spanish hostel. in his sleep. fucked no. anyway, i like to get drunk and cry about it sometimes. louis was in a bunch of my classes and he was a genuinely nice guy, cute, quiet. laughed at my shit which is numero uno in getting on my good side town. i bring it up every time i see scott wow so sharey right now. i also punched a girl at that party, who asked me to. several times in the jaw. she gave me her kurt sweater that i still wear, said she’d like to visit it sometime maybe. her hair was wild. the cops came to that party but didn’t go inside, just parked out front drinking coffees. all the kids stuffed their drugs into backpacks in a frenzy. bands were playing in the basement and scott’s parents were away. so funny. we stayed up drinking til the sun came up, then went swimming, then to golden griddle. it was an amazing time. i saw all my old friends from high school after a year of being away in brooklyn and LA and crazy. omg next picture sorry.

this sweater.

i also hid in the trunk of sobia’s car to surprise sandra picking her up from the go station. i was wearing this bright fluorescent orange kaftan from the gap and came out like a big bright flash and sandra almost had a heart attack. no one knew i’d be in town.

scott got punched by a gino waiting for this chick he was interested in coming to one of his parties and when she finally got there the cops had scott handcuffed (maybe?) totally bloody on the front lawn and his reaction was just like, whatsup? scott you are going to get so much poon-tang now you fucking owe me.

favourite japanese place yet in burlington. sakai. go to it.

they have WASH ROOMS.

fish tempura dish sent over on the house. it was amazing. i left my card. i think the waitress was confused. so were we.

never order two, it’s so much food.

spicy lobster roll. wicked. before this we had the sashimi appetizer.

wow fascinating cool. just finished writing article, post, what do you call it? so that’s all for now, party time! it’ll go up this afternoon or tomorrow.

Hey Raymi,

RMC

one thing i forgot to mention yesterday but had on my mind all day. my grandfather was in intelligence in WWII, vision too poor to be a pilot so he briefed those bomb droppers on their way out. big ups to the veterans.

photos d.summerfield

we were discussing how someone paid for dave to get his FAC (Firearm Acquisition Certificate) license, he nearly completed the course then dropped out/quit realising there was no point in acquiring it as he would never shoot an animal and if he were to ever use a firearm it would be to (theoretically) shoot a human in which case he’d be going to jail anyway therefore, a gun license is pointless.

i forgot the rest of the funny point i was going to wrap that all up in.

had great japanese tonite and bi bim bap (hi lise!) and the chef sent over the most amazing seafood tempura dish ever on the house just cos i was snapping pictures or because the awesome emanating from my general direction was hypnotizing. thanks saiki! went for a tan, jammin’ out to she wolf on the zune and love sex magic now it’s mini xmas gingerbread cookie men monopoly this drink time wow stoner post rules.

i was going to do a sake bomb redux but for some reason cold sake is double the price out here. not cool. LITERALLY.

the city when u come back feels so different and u feel so i dont give a fuck about it and it feels so good. it feels, i have no idea how to describe it, it just feels. in every sense, in every hippie way. once you leave a bubble you can breathe again. things that felt important to you, no longer do. if i need to be in the city for work or meetings, interviews, it can be done. i don’t feel like i’m on neptune anymore. i was removed from the crush long ago.

just remembered the free meal card st. louis waitress gave me and trying not to over-analyze (megalomaniacally) reasons behind it. i’m also no longer going to apologetically front like i don’t love st. louis (wings not the place)(though i’ve never been i’m sure it’s fine) because i do.

a fly decided to land and die on a freshly painted canvas the second i walked away to wash the brush. (emo panda painting sold, not finished yet though).

ps have been winning bailey’s battle. too lazy to be a drunk even. cool. (that bottle has since been killed).

nominate my blog for everything thanks i love you more than you love yourself! http://2009.weblogawards.org/nominations/

quoting @unbrelievable (amazing hair btw you look like nicole richie. HOT!) keep your chin up – you don’t want any double chins. BAHAHA niyce.

do NOT rent Management (jen aniston/steve zahn) it is NOT a romcom it is a pile of confusing what the fuck am i watching shit awful SHIT WTF you feel held hostage for 1 hour until you muster up the courage to turn it off. honestly you kinda need to experience it to get what i’m saying.

got carded yesterday. awright.

bailed on scotch tasting bowling instead nachos pitcher gunned

yes @seriouslyrad Year One pretty much blew it. cera’s comedy saved it and supporting cast. jack black needs to retire that dead horse (of a shtick).

walkd out on purchases at gas station merchant was rude

unseasonably warm nite settin’ out in the yard. rented year one. (ok getting tired of linking to these you get that i’m pulling these winners from my twitter feed)

just molested leftover half of blackened catfish caesar wrap.

tossed beer cap at bathroom garbage just now, missed, had to reach deep down into bowl almost to elbow! water wasn’t yellow thankfully.

it’d b cool if they turned the music on when don cherry talked so u wouldnt have to hear him talk.

watched half of 8 below last nite starring that actor shittier than keanu reeves. basically keanu reeves-lite. stressful emo movie.

sometimes i only know the date by looking at my blog.

the internet just caught on that i do not actually reside at 123 Penis Lane. i have 5 days to fix it by or my domain is canceled. thanks!

suburban people reacting to me is interesting it adds an extra dose of am i crazy to the am i crazy i already have going on

i am elegant, more so than a gazelle or a finishing school graduate

just looked at my phone bill. LE GASP.

we are all islands lost at sea and get in our own way

flickr, my online existence is useless without you.

beck lyric possible tattoo: love is a poverty you couldn’t sell – right forearm

in orillia lying by water under fall leaves at a cottage homesick for a moment b4 it’s over

note to self: get good tweezers

here’s a non-thrill, delete a track off itunes WHILE LISTENING TO IT.

now i must write an article about my stupid life. cheers pals!

how much fucking investigating do these idiot reporters even do, first im enraged they show zero respect for either of your actual feelings, yours are the ones i care about mind you, i do however find it hilarious how they rip on your writing and obviously have NOT checked who your relatives are, fucking hell Mr. Jack (to me) must be rolling over in his grave at these fucks. i have so much respect for the decision to write how you’ve always written since the break up, it isn’t the ‘raymi the minx’ i know to rip all over something that personal, you have your ways the long timers know that. it is always the shit you DON’T give a shit about that you rip all over if it doesn’t work out or pisses you off or is just plain fucking stupid. gusgreeper

and

Hi!

-Sofi

i have read your column before
i am quite proud of you

anyway.

i know you’re all getting tired of this. i’ve been over myself years ago though i did secretly hope, anticipate, more recognition some day but, i dunno. when it happens it’s crazy. especially if you are sensitive. the article i must focus on now i fear will only bring comment suicide to my door. but it’s going to be writ with or without me so i’ve been given an opportunity to say it first myself. i’m not sure i can take any more abuse though. you just have to suck it up if you ever have any intention of being in the spotlight, i suppose. i wish i was stronger. at what point do you know to keep going and when to stop? dive in, sink, swim? i say swim. if you’ve never dived before then that’s a damn shame.

i love lady gaga so much right now she is so brave i want to be her.

this shit inspires.

photos d.summerfield

dress by allison (worn by, rather in her profile pic)