for twenty bucks it had better work. i try to use it daily, but i also keep late hours, so who knows. maybe a nite when i get proper sleep is what makes my eyes look less puffy and not this piece of bullshit. the nite prior to this little happening i clocked in oh, a few hours of sleep?

hi penises did you miss me? i missed you that’s why i made myself into a penis for you.

hello horseshoe. first time there since before all that change. like, beginning of summer. actually, can’t even place it. can you?

mike gets roped into taking a photo of these tacky young chicks.

duckface on the left got axed for being too wasters. i like that she is mugging for my camera instead of her friend’s.

mike had a bag of ziploc bags of icing that was making us all feel awkward for him so i turned that wrong into an opportunity. should i hold a how to get chicks seminar?

dude you were SO in there, what happened?

what where am i now. oh flickr you piece of shit. that necklace broke last friday nite at some point during the dance til dawn party. don’t know how. discovered it the next day. possibly fixable if i had a soldering gun hahaha.

belly is an adorable little place.

oh right, lost nite. look at that frosting, fuckin’ peanut butter! excited to see what carrie has been cooking up. hmm, want to make me a birthday cake? update: blythe doll cake!

WEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.

here i am saying AWKWAAAAAAAAAARD.

single white female!

alright alright here we go there happy done bye.

killin’ me here samurai.

look at this retard. yeah the sun was warm but the day was not. like, at all. i love seeing under-dressed too sooners and scoping their role in the whole be cool aloof don’t show how freezing you actually are in the face department. walk slow. hahahha saw another chick the other day in bare legs, looked so stupid but upon closer approach she was wearing nylons.

guess how much money is here. when brosz7 gets around to cashing this in at the supermarket he’ll tell me the amount, i’ll tell you the amount and if you guessed correctly, you will get nothing. i am very good at this by the way, not to be competitive or anything. i say at least 60 dollars.

i said that i liked this bagel because it’s soft, fresh. i don’t like chewing bagels forever. he said i have absolutely no authority or right to have any sort of opinion regarding bagels if i’m not jewish (he is) then i tuned him out completely/cut him off. i do not care for quality, style, character, whathaveyou, i was only commenting on my appreciation for its freshness and low-chew factor. what wait you don’t care what i have to say about bagels? he asks me. no, i don’t. i don’t care for anything that you have to say anymore in fact, because i don’t have to feign like i am at all interested in anything that you have to say anymore. he says, i like the new doesn’t give a shit about me raymi. me too.

then i was whisked away to dinner with another companion.

i got f’d over by the food i chose and the wine they paired it with. first it was moonshine (sherry) what lent a nice gasoline burn aftertaste. all i wanted was red wine. with my main i got a white. then for dessert, a dessert wine (which i hate). hahahahahaha. COOL TIMES FINE DINING.

and all my pictures came out blurry. cold calamari salad, very nice.

i had the chicken. the duck wasn’t fresh.

steak frites. we shared everything. oh man i feel like a house today and this was earlier in the week, i think? no it was last week. wow brain, way to impress.

banana cake. was smashed by this point and we were gabbin’ away so basically wasn’t feeling it so much. picked away at it.

huge brulee fan.

next day at shanghai ok i think i know why i’m not a skeletor anymore. sigh. this was not mine though i inhaled a few at lightning speed.

havarti jalapeno garlic grilled cheese mmmmmm BOOM.

five minutes later was time to eat AGAIN for our blog meeting.

why do i have autistic poses. why why whyyyy.

menus by louis vuitton! (not really)

and people say i’m narcissistic. pah. just sharing my sick ass style with you, puhlease.

some people think that seaweed salad (wakame? nigiri?) tastes like catfood. that’s what gill said and now i can’t stop thinking that or repeating it when it’s ordered and i ruin it for everyone. that’s all i ordered though and miso soup as i had literally just eaten at shanghai.

then we got baked and went to condom shack.

brand loyalty.

this girl i worked with when i was an online model had a real looking dong like this and cos of that she did beej shows on it. easier to get into it the more realistic it is i suppose in lieu of one of those glass floral printed gold sparkle ones, yeah?

can you buy me a thigh-numbing uncomfortable aesthetically pleasing expensive clockwork orange chair please? thanks. you’re so generous.

m pony love. i am so predictable.

these guys kinda freaked me out as a kid.

one day one of these bunnies will be mine. swoohn.

alice in wonderlandish which i cannot wait to see.

go noel!

i see you’ve been busy all winter.

that’s him in there somewhere too, or so he says. flare spread.

fuck yeah.

ok kideos thanks for tunin’ in it’s miller time.

just kidding i am never drinking (jager shots) again.

marriage counselors

how many of you have a famous blog right now? no one? ok right, that’s what i thought.

and if you had one, would you even begin to know what the fuck to do about it? people coming at you daily telling you what’s up, how to play the game, what the next move is, all nice and welcome thank you for it but seriously, back the fuck off. you come under the guise of “help” really? you want to help me, then fucking HELP me or shut up. your help isn’t help if all it does is engender a circle jerk. pointing out stuff we already know isn’t help. telling someone to be this or do that, not help.

i’m famous because i’m doing everything right. i have hustled my ass off to get what small time i have right now, this is my field, my area, not yours. whatever you’re doing do i tell you how to do it better? of course not. what gives you the right to come over here and solicit shit advice? do you think i even LOOK at my sidebar or fucking care what garbage is posted on it? half my blog roll i don’t even read, or is even blogging anymore. who fucking cares? clearly YOU do, but I don’t, so don’t put that shit on me. what the hell do you want?

i’m living a whimsical life and i’m blogging about it and i have a massive audience. BIG DEAL CITY. i simply want to be an author, that is always what i’ve wanted cos that is about as far as my dreams go. sorry to disappoint you but, this is all you’re getting out of me for now. this blog is just a launch pad of laziness.

i wanted to publish books but i didn’t want to write formal documents selling myself, pitching my ideas. i wanted to be accepted based on an oh of course we’ll sign her method. we know my books will sell because they just fucking will. build your audience while building your brand, get loyal followers, endear yourselves to them. write a fucking book and then they will buy it. oh boohoo the print world is tanking, no one wants to read anymore, waaaah. bullshit. who wants to read a novel on a tablet, what are we in i-robot? get your head out of your ass, that is not the wave of the future. books are not going away. maybe the shitty ones are, but still, there will always be a market for them.

i had a crazy post in the pan i wanted to share in lieu of this but i guess i should consider it more. i wrote it in a state of rushed anger last nite before heading out to meet melodie and i was already late. then billy mystery’s email came in and i was like, fuck you, but then decided no, i should just go with it.

people say i’m pretty sensitive, for someone who puts so much out there, why so sensitive? like, how dare you be sensitive.

it’s because i am sensitive i have such staying-power. it’s because i react to things and have emotions. think of all the blogs out there trying hard on their “voice” and how disaffected they’re attempting to be, hipster runoff for example, no feelings, just all fun and games and snark. invincible. how much does hipster runoff consistently capture your attention and captivate you? cos after one two three hipster jabs, i think you fucking get the point right? haha hipsters are being hipsters omfg look. but then what?

you want to feel things right, i presume, and you can’t really feel anything over there but here, feel away dickhead. don’t tell me what to do cos we both know i’m not going to listen. unless you have a tangible means to make shit happen with/for me, don’t waste your breath, or my time, or more importantly, don’t hurt my feelings. it’s exhausting compartmentalizing them everyday. don’t think you don’t have an impact with the shitty things you say. you think you’re so tough right? live a week in my shoes and see how you fare, i honestly don’t think you could hack it. you’d crumple into a fucking fetal position and pack’er in pretty quick.

do you even know what it feels like to be hated by so many people? could you handle that? could you handle pointless disdain? i don’t think you could. i don’t think you could rise above shit, in fact, which is why you are desperately trying to get my attention with your negative slurs all the time. seriously, what does that even do for you? luckily i am able to get over things pretty quickly and you make me fucking laugh but honestly, you hate me because you don’t have the nards to be your own person, script your own identity, lead the life you want to be living, fuck, not my problem.

i’m happy, for the first time in my life despite manic depression, i am fucking happy. i like me right now and i like my life and i apologize for nothing.

but if you want to have a REAL discussion regarding all this, step up and buy a ticket to this, put your money where your mouth is. for once in your fucking life. tell me to my face what i’m doing wrong.

and in the words of midlake, “it’s hard for me, but i’m trying.”

bahhahahaha ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

I think you should take down all of that “king of the blogs” stuff. Its looks gay. Who’s it for? Nerds that visit your site know that you are number one anyway. Take all the “advertise here” stuff off too. Ever considered actually approaching someone? Marketing morons are beneath accountants on the boring job ladder so be careful with them. Why would you leave a message on your site asking them to pay you to fool people? The only thing those retards will get is the fact that you let the “market in on the plan.”

I don’t think you really know what your demographic is (and it’s mega-profitable). What are you doing? “Writing a book” No offense man, but even if you were talented, that shit doesn’t sell anyway. Forget about the hipsters and start pandering to (and profiting from) retards who need you to tell them what to do.

extremo behind on photos, when they were took, why, who what where etc etc zzzz. i am also lightyears irritable right now (what else is new) and had suicidal cramps all nite long, hot water bottle necessary cramps, fought through them cos we were playing risk til 2.30 in the morning and i am a competitive dickhead but then i couldn’t take the pain anymore so cut it short. next time can we start at 3 in the afternoon please? fuck, i love risk. everything always goes down in kamchatka. in summation, i am going to take out my present anger on… POSTSEEEEEEECRET! for the newbies, you are in for a treat.

ready set GO!

aw that’s sad, you buy tickets? hahahahEHHEheheheehe sorry. no really, i get it. concerts make me very sad maybe that’s why i hate live music so much. it’s so isolating standing in the dark as still as possible (toronto rules) getting zero attention or if you do get it you wouldn’t know it because no one approaches anyone. so many wasted nights and outfits. instead of trying to find someone to go with you to the concert, try to find someone AT the concert.

what are you a four year old? (by your multi-coloured pencil crayon words i’ll hazard a yes here) get the fuck out of his email you meddling lunatic. MOVE ON.

AKA i get laid never and desperately needed to let the world know about your pity laying me. this is you, oh me on my oh bother, what to do what to do oh my heavens. liar, you l.o.v.e.d. it and can’t stop thinking about it. make it happen again or shut up and ps. the word orgasm makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit. you are not a harlequin romance novel, get with the times.

and i have tears welling in my eyes right now from how much of a pussy you are for not following through with divulging said secret. time waster. i’d be super pissed if i was the post secret mail carrier, or the guy who has to scan all this shit in. right in the garbage with you. do you think you moved ANYONE with this secret teasing, or the imagery of you on a bus with some hobo woman crying in your save it for oprah moment?

you should abandon christianity and get laid as soon as possible. you’re a sex-deviant waiting to happen, don’t fight it for stupid reasons you’re only fucking yourself up in the long-run. see you on intervention in like 3 years, looking forward to being annoyed by your clued-out parents who thought prayer could fix the problem they think you have. sex is healthy and natural and not so super duperly important that it needs to be saved for some prick you don’t even like when you are “ready”.

that’s heartbreaking and adorable. does he even deserve you? if you told him, would he freak or be flattered? tell him and based on his reaction, you will know what your next move is. i bet i am reading into this way too much. he’s probably simply a flirtatious customer oh my god jump his bones already!

bAHAHHAHAhHAah i knew a derek and he’s a complete fucking idiot.

here’s a comment someone left me beneath this card.

There’s a company that caters to that fear, run by non-Christians who won’t be going anywhere. In case of rapture, they’ll care for your pets — for an annual fee, paid in advance of course.

eternal-earthbound-pets.com/

how do i get eternal earthbound pets to hire me? fuck that i’ll start my own hahaha.

A+++++++.

people don’t change. don’t waste your time. no one can be cured. we are who we are and the sooner we accept it, the easier our lives are for it. maybe you can temporarily manipulate someone into bending to your ways but really, do you want to cage a bird? no, you do not, and you are a giant asshole for going there. fuck with yourself, not with others. ps. who are you this guy’s mother? more like smother.

it’s down ON you and i’m pretty sure she isn’t getting fat either. you are living in a cliché dreamworld. you’re the bridesmaid, she’s the bride. it doesn’t mean you are living in her shadow, you are only choosing to stay there cos in a fucked up way you enjoy it because it gives you something to blame everything on. focus on your own life, fuck, you pretty much bring it on yourself. do you know how many people populate the planet? you know it’s possible for you to NOT have anything to do with your sister, right? i am a fan of letting people know they’ve wronged me, so instead of making believe like your metaphorical cookies will have any sort of impact whatsoever on her write a goddamn email and blast her out of the water like a real woman instead of harboring this resentment for years to come and carrying it into future relationships that don’t even exist yet (your niece/nephews to-be) in short, GROW UP.

oh here we go again. humans are competitive bitter resentful spiteful pieces of shit. do you really feel good about yourself because you can only feel good about yourself over someone else’s weight fluctuation? loser.

why bother faking it? i have never faked it. if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. the end. i am annoyed on your behalf.

what are you a made-for-tv movie? who the hell says blowing coke? you are full of it girl, and i’ve heard this before from chicks who want to come across hardcore but really they’re just fat wimps LIKE YOU!

dude check your eyes! i didn’t get it either and i even met the motherfucker. he smelled, was rude and obnoxious but LOOK at him. don’t comment on pop culture just to be like “i don’t get it” cos i’m pretty sure that you DO “get it” and you’re just in the mood to debate and exhaust everyone’s patience. not getting pop culture is like not getting why water is wet. what planet are you from? in fact, sending in a postcard to postsecret was ultra pop-cultured of you, you may as well be whoever he is from twilight. BYE!

and i tell postsecret and everybody else all this because i desperately want to be seen as a sexual creature. what’s with all this sexy talk all the time? i demand better secrets. not secrets about secrets about secrets about dumpy chicks who get laid once a year then write a fucking memoir about it. ps. yoga doesn’t make you better in bed. being flexible doesn’t make the skill of sex more finely-honed. being sexual does. yoga farts, not.

so you only go for dinners on business trips, take the hint. he isn’t feeling it or you. eat alone in your hotel room, don’t allow him the pleasure of your company. if he doesn’t want to take you to dinner in your own town, he doesn’t want you, sorry. this shit comes from within not from what other people see, or want. the guy is no fool, whatever magic you had over him is long gone, like you should be.

you’re not doing them any favours, trust me. so don’t stay. people misguidedly think that the livelihoods of their kids are better in a nuclear family setting, not so. show them how strong you can be, don’t cling to a dream that is now a nightmare for you. live for yourself not your kids. they will understand and appreciate you so much more if you do yourself this solid. don’t lie to yourself anymore, you do not HAVE to stay “for the children” and you know it, you’re staying for yourself because you’re afraid.

oh get over it guy. if it can fuck you over career-wise then why are you bringing it up here? stop selling yourself so shortly there are other things in this world far more enriching than football for crying out loud.

that sucks. i have no jokes for this one. i’d treat myself to a tropical getaway every holiday if i were you.

“that month” way to back your mom you little bitch.

this is so sweet. please tell her. acknowledging the weirdness of others and relieving them of the burden of living in their head too much about it is probably one of the most selfless acts one can do.

yeah, welcome to the rest of humanity. you are boring. i feel sorry for you. i get that you want to be involved and feel special, and hey at least you made the effort but really, next time try digging deeper and coming up with something real a la jeff buckley.

again, we get it, you’re SEXUALIZED and in-tune so NEXT LEVEL HOT WOW YOU GO GIRL GET ON WITH YOUR BAAAD SELF.

well your brother must be super rich if he can afford that many women.

um dude how the hell are you masturbating, on cinder blocks? and what’s the kneeling for? ever heard of oh i dunno, LYING DOWN? maybe i’m being vanilla here or something but, jesus, hahahaha i can’t finish this one.

yeah i dare you to do it i’m sure the reactions all ’round will be highly favourable. may as well follow it up with mentioning christ and aliens to a schizophrenic.

this postcard was meant for the fridge IN THE OFFICE KITCHEN you passive aggressive dish washing asshole. stop doing their dishes, they will never learn if you clean up after them.

i will keep this in mind next time i get trapped discussing garbage i have no desire discussing with a smug university student who is dying inside, forty grand in debt and starving.

HAHAHAahahaahaHAHHA still funny weeks and months later. whoever you are i am totally down to hang anytime. making a point to inform the world how unimportant sports are to you is hysterical. you’re all HEY I DON’T LIKE ANYTHING AND NOTHING, PEACE!

hmm hmm HMMMM gee now, how could you achieve this mind buster? maybe by downloading some on his computer when no one is looking. though aside from that, don’t be such a shitty scoundrel. get over him, psycho baby.

you should go on a date with pees in the shower genius, you seem to be about the same speed for each other. i bet you don’t even know what a meme is.

exactly. coming from an arrogant twat who has never been molested or raped, my go-to sympathy motto is do not let this person (or these people) who have hurt you, continue to further hurt you. rise above, carry on, show them they haven’t trampled your spirit or destroyed it. fuck them, they are nothing, and you are something.

good girl.

COOOOOOL! i think?????

ask him to or is part of the kink for you actually busting in on him? whatever just make it happen already then write a postcard about it zzz.

you are a self-entitled lazy beast woman, deserved of all the unhappiness you clearly suffer. clean your own fucking house or get fucked by someone else already you cruel menopausal bitch.

i am proud of you.

i met a girl who can only come from doing sit-ups. never got to witness it though.

or, die. what a magnificent loser you are.

ok i can’t do this anymore, way to downer myself in the middle of menstrual depression.

LOVE YOU LONG TIME!

AS IF i can’t pull off hip hop. way to discourage me from buying this hat mr. jealousy.

ok that was the lead-in, now lets go back in order.

i was trying to look tough. instead i just looked like five o’clock shadow.

why i feel obligated to document every stupid outfit i wear, i dunno. one illness piled on top of another. i feel that it is noteworthy or subconsciously warrants my obsessive feeling of needing MORE clothes.

oh sure, tan time. no biggie. went to my old joint. she remembered me, but thought it had been two years since i patronized their salon. i believe it was pre-summer, as once it was warm enough to tan outdoors i hit the breaks. i don’t know why but i felt somewhat smug by her error in passage of time judgment and now i feel like a fucking asshole for sharing this with you.

dinner at the roxton. beet salad goat cheese w/ arugula. five stars.

grilled (cold) calamari over couscous and very syrupy balsamic and some other flavours i have no recollection of.

i love that it feels like christmas in there all the time and that it also (fondly) reminds me of my old crew of friends that dumped my ass once i broke up with fil. i’m sentimental and stupid.

jerk duck over dumplings and spinach. wolfed through it in moments then realized there was absolutely no flavour of jerk to be found. did they forget or was it that bland? a little too chewy too.

lemon Crème brûlée and bailey’s style and one pretentious persimmon? i ate it whatever it was. sweet, subtle. could not distinguish the difference in flavour of either these two brûlées. normally my palate is very on, though, not when i’m famished and slightly buzzed.

good morning world.

stand back, i got this.

my grandmother tried to teach me how to play once. fruitlessly. i just can’t get the knack of reading music. i can’t knit either. it’s like my brain is all and now you want me to do what??? HUHHH!?? i taught myself how to snap though, so i snap backwards, it’s bizarre. i’ll make a video of it someday. you should see how i tie laces. ps. this is how i get guys/girls, prattle on and on and on til they are disarmed by how much of a giant idiot i am then i’m IN.

actually so so sunny, can’t tell from this viewpoint. if you missed out on today oh man, oh brother, oh. such a good one.

you can have crushes on inanimate objects right?

aaaaaaaaand cue wind machine. oh my god i have a joke fantasy now of walking on to some set and casually mentioning how a wind machine is just a glorified fan oh gross i can picture myself repeating this to 40 other people too. i am SO that guy.

i’m so lonely.

time for some spring hues, not harlot.

went for the veg burg. not bad. not mindblowing. the real deal was better. good thing i annihilate animals.

your guess is as good as mine.

hi can i have a condiment sandwich? thanks! no it’s good. has inspired me to finally order one of the veg burgs off the central’s menu.

someone here is either really funny or hugely annoying. warhol is tsk’ing in his grave.

oh hey chelsea. she was at the central saturday nite with a pile of socialist university students, haven’t even blogged that yet, so backlogged (busy, in high-demand girl i am) but here she is now, sunny days make you bump in to no less than five people you know. she’s my longboarding buddy.

we had a little debate in ethics saturday nite. i just typed it all out then deleted it cos i don’t think the fall-out would be worth it.

who isn’t stoked for this place? who will review it first, torontoist or blogto? i picture both in a relay race, violently clawing at each other’s faces in the doorway. here let me spare the effort now: disaffected clockwork orange-looking mod types sitting over pints, gingerly masking appreciation of surroundings, trying to out-underwhelm one another, wearing their finest of course.

see what it says above my head.

so fat right now. i don’t even know what it was we got. almond biscotti tasting not biscotti cookies.

can’t exactly casually eat one of these walking down the street can you? no dignity.

you could treat yourself to some serious fine-dining for the cost of this mental illness headgear, as gorgeous as it is. i have a modest red/black feathered headband piece and i feel like the world is laughing at me when i (never) wear it and then i get a headband headache. i will make a point to wear it friday nite. nice eyebag though, nice lighting.

now this, is nice.

i want a better quote.

i knew a guy who had a fiero once, tackiest could never let the 80’s go motherfucker ever but that’s another story for another time.

despite how much of a piece of shit i am coming across right now, i had a wonderful day and am quite content. i am. also, lost is on tonite.

this is what i have in mind to go around my blythe tattoo so people can stop hazarding the stupidest no effort whatsoever guesses. hey what is that a tattoo of, a dog, a mountain? is that a refrigerator duh duh duHHHHHH. hahaha can you tell i’m ready for stand-up yet or the funny farm? don’t answer that.

it’s not a day in the market unless you come out of there with new shades. good thing that airplane timed itself to be in this shot with me. BFF!

took turns bumping into our respective peoples across the hood. i know it’s not a competition (yes it is). anyway, before i had the chance to say patio, beer, or, lets, this guy did the solid and then the rest of the house of cards, oh she fell.

good call stranger.

i love spying. spectating. i know i say i love a lot of things and it’s like, oh whatever shut up simpleton, but it’s true. i love human behaviour. somehow you have to make up for all the things that you hate.

another good thing about voyeuring is when it’s of people you sort of know, recognize, are semi-famous in a specific circle. the more time you spend secretly watching them, the closer to bravery of approaching them you get like, of course they want to talk to me, i mean, it’s ME. word to the wise, don’t do it. you don’t remember their name and they certainly don’t remember you so save everyone the embarrassment and just stare holes into them. (you can totally approach me though cos if i don’t get enough attention it’s like i’ll die or something). the moral of all this is i saw some people i recognized across the street. THE END.

but now on the other hand, when one of these people is sitting down at your very own table and you went to school with them in england ten years ago and have even attempted making contact with them before in the past until giving up entirely because you couldn’t remember the spelling of their last name, by christ, you had better speak the fuck up, tap them on the shoulder, ask if their name is sarah, ask them if they still draw, sit down beside them and pose for a picture. hug them when you go. appreciate your good fortune. meeting someone on the other side of the world and not seeing them again for ten years in your own city, i think that’s quite special.

yeah i like my glasses. i wish i bought that hat though.

i never forget people who endear me. i have written about every single person i have ever met, or have a little story tucked away in my head for another day.

LOST TIME I’M LAAAATE BYE.