i love this blurred-out photo. i don’t know why. melodie likes all the shitty photos too she gets mad when i delete the crappiest ones that make no sense ever like a photo of a wall, seriously, nothing else. funny. so i make a point to keep them all and fascinate myself for hours trying to find the beauty in it or try to “get” “it” oh man i know i do the quotations thing way too much i’m stopping today.
britt said it’s betty draper. who’s that again? mad men. i never watch that show. i discovered it before anyone else did by accident once. then i forgot about it. then it exploded. then i stopped watching tv.
hello world. i wrote “a piece” on queefing when i was 18 years old. it went viral (fark) a few times, has been printed in many (indie) magazines (zines), tattoo culture jokey vice rip-off publications and the like. i get a lot of emails via it from people who know nothing of my blog or myself. i generally ignore them after forwarding to a few friends but sometimes i like to fuck with people because hey, that’s “how i do” so read on. i barely made it through this one too many things disgusted me about it to read it proper. i wish you luck on your quest.
My name is William, but you can call me Bill. I loved your write-up on Pussy farts. You’re hillarious, laid-back, real, and super sexy all in one.
Im from Ann Arbor, Michigan origonally, but I live in Akron, OH. Right now. I don’t know where you are from, but I think you are awesome.
I have experienced the queef many times. I have an 8″+ cock size and in certain possition and tempos it can tend to pump some air in there. Sometimes it has happened with new parteners or ones that are a little self conscious, and I usually just say “that’s alright, there’s nothing wrong with that” if I see they are a little embarassed. I think it’s cute. It’s kind of like a pleasant sigh of relief after a “particularly good pounding” (inside joke :-). Sometimes it happens after a multiple set of orgasms in and unusual position when my lover is bent over just right and then goes to lay flat and recooperate. However, I had a fabulous lover once whom responded to my body and abilities in such a powerfull and intense way that during some of our hotest moments, her pussy would quake with orgasms so hard that while I was taking long, full, hard thrusts so deep inside her body, her pussy would spasm and contract so hard it would squeeze and pull air around
my cock while in motion and make somewhat of a squirting & sucking sound. That was truly beautiful! I would make her cum so many times that she would loose count and when I just couldn’t hold it any more and would cum heavy anywhere she wanted it and then collaps in exhaustion from a job well done. It would take her 15 to 20 minutes to recover and walk again. It could tell you some stories. LOL! If you’re game, we could even make some new stories to tell together.
I was going to send a pic of myself, face shot or other, but wasn’t sure you would even get this. So, I hope if you do recieve this that you’ve enjoyed my input as much as I enjoyed reading your candid article on queefing. You should send me a sound clip of you doing it. That would be cool. HaHa! Hey, I wonder if you could put a sound clip of various pussy queefs on your website? You could get the girls together for a big pajama party and make some music with all those spectacular variations in the greatest organ in the world. That would be like icing on the cake.
Lots of Licks and Love,
sure send your photo ill put it on my blog. no penis picture though please.
What? You’re kidding! You want to put it on your blog? Do you have other guys pics on there as well and what would you write about me, if anything?
i would just post your email and make fun of you
I see. That’s not quite the level of respect I had expected from you. Why would you make fun of me when I’m in support of your article? Did I offend you in some way? Please Send me a link to your blog so I can have a better idea of what you’re talking about.
my blog is linked in my email signature. you wrote to a virtual stranger offering a pic of your dick and you describe the size of it, i barely read your email but what i glimpsed was overrun with spelling errors. you are in support of an article i wrote when i was 18 years old. i am now a 27 year old woman. the style of the writing of that article should tip you off that maybe i am a cynical pundit. i have little respect for those who offer pictures of their genitals online, why on earth would i want to see that? is this some kind of pick-up? was that the intention? really i want to know i’m not being snarky here.
Nine years has a way of changing us. I wrote to the frame of mind you were in then, which is apparently not where you are at now. The brutal and candid honesty you portrayed as you wrote your article held little back and so I didn’t think I needed to be that shy with you. So you’re now trying to tell me that the detailed discription of what your genitalia can do with air is somehow less intimate intimate then knowing a details about my genitalia? You seemed like such a free spirit and I appreciate people with those traits. Maybe life and love has bared some marks upon you that have made you more of a closed person now. Maybe you don’t feel the same way about men, as a result. I had no idea that page was so old. Surely things are different now.
I am so sorry that I have offended you, that I misspelled words in my email, that I described aspects of my anatomy, that I offered pics of myself, and that I would have loved to date that crazy, fun, 18 year old firecracker that wrote a brilliantly funny article on queefs. I cannot appologize enough for responding to you in this way. I feel awfull and ache with disapointment at the way I reached out to you. I am so very sorry Raymi. Please accept my appology. I beg your forgiveness. Please don’t be angry with me. I regretably made a mistake and wish there was some way I could take it all back, but I cannot. Please have mercy on me. I didn’t mean to come across in a way that displeases you. Can you forgive me Raymi?
Thanks Raymi. Go ahead and blog it. If anyone could bring out the humorous side of things, it would be you. Thank you for keeping my name confidential. Maybe you could call me the Pussy Connoisseur. I look forward to reading your blog and learning more about Raymi the Minx.
Ah! Yes, I knew there was something else about you I liked. I see you are also a marijuana enthusiast. LOL! Have fun, Love. Do what makes you happy. Let me know where you post that on your blog. Ttyl
Oh! Hey, if you get any positive female feedback, then send them my way. I love meeting new people. Even if they are in another country. I take it you are in Canada. Would love to go there some day. Take care Raymi
i can bravely say without any shadow of a doubt, and zero hesitation, that there will not be one solid ounce of positive female feedback coming from this and if it is your goal to pick up women on the internet, this is absolutely the opposite way to do it.
i also wrote a guide to “being a slut” about the same time, actually no, i wrote it when i was living in brooklyn earlier that year at 18 but anyway when i went mental (moral) i had them delete it because i wasn’t that kind of person anymore. i’m sure you can get it on the internet somewhere like this guy did,
Interesting concluding sentence this: “And no one gets hurt” when earlier was this “We don’t want another stalker to add to the list..
Clearly a lot of people……sorry, not people, I mean “stalkers”…let’s dehumanise those poor souls that get attached to you after you seduce them right away so we can pretend that “no one gets hurt” because, well they are “no ones” aren’t they? And yes, these “no ones”, these non-persons are getting hurt, and hurt bad.
I know, I pick up the pieces. Sometimes I’m too late.
Remember the original stalker movie, Fatal Attraction? Well, when it was first shown, we all knew at the time that Micheal Douglas was the villian of the piece. It was a cautionary tale about playing with people, about Nemesis following hubris.
You play with people…and believe me, it is the “harmless John’s” that when they realise they’ve been played…they will be the ones that will erupt in grief and rage…not the run-of-the-mill thugs.
How on earth can people like you be stopped? I don’t know…I only hope it was a parody, a piece you wrote to satirise what you think men do. I think not though…I think you really do go out to target nice men and leave them damaged.
initial reaction: What the hell are you talking about and then I believe you are referring to a piece of satire I wrote when I was seventeen years old which was deleted yet you somehow unearthed. That was ten years ago.
yeah was actually 18 but it was written about how i acted as a sixteen/seventeen year old. i guess the moral of the story is, be careful what you say on the internet it can come back to haunt you and some people can take it severely seriously when really you’re just having a laugh. my how to be a small town slut article exists still though. many people have asked if it’s about me. no, it isn’t.
hey sports fans are you ready to see me stuff my face again? every wednesday at palais royale for fifteen dollars (goes to charity!) you can hit the buffet created by grand master chef Steffan Howard. if you’ve not had food by palais royale then you are a nobody in this city as they cater so many parties and events i’ve been to, namely gibson and a little thing called NXNE and their kick-off party, well they did when the party was at palais before it went to mill street, dunno if they would do it there seems like a bit of a conflict of interest but what do i know? clearly nothing.
charity proof you just chuck your money in there i guess. not sure as i arrived late and then i didn’t even have to pay, no i’m not that cheap just allergic to charity. no just kidding. i was “working”.
normally they have everything set up out on the back terrace overlooking the water but the rain messed it all up so they had the buffet set up in the kitchen instead which is cool by me as i am fascinated by behind the scenes anything. my favourite scene from goodfellas is when ray liotta walks in to the club through the basement and then the kitchen with his new girl and slips everyone money like a magnificent high roller, so glamorous, and she’s like uhh what do you actually do? i’m in construction. bahahah.
multiple healthy salads to choose from. i was worried cos i have a massive day of eating ahead of me today. i’m going to buy stocks in ponchos cos that’s all i’m going to be able to wear pretty soon. fuck.
eye bag city. whatever. they let me take home some food for my roommates and gave me an insider tip about staff lunches i can mooch in on. fuckin right! it’s so close to me i can just bike over the bridge as if i were going to budapest park good thing i didn’t know about this over the summer.
i ate three mini desserts on the spot couldn’t help it they told me to. their pastry chef is fresh outta langdon hall THE place of all places of cuisine. when i’m finished charm school i will be eating that place inside and out. i didn’t try one of the green shooters but i did the brown one over there, mocha mousse. SOOO GOOD. i made a point not to take ANY desserts with me. sugar makes lucas crazy also i would have eaten everything before melucas got home like it never even happened and passed out on the couch with a chocolate mustache like a cute video on AFV of a kid getting busted eating something and the evidence is all over the kitchen their face and hands and they fiercely lie about it.
rotating menu obviously. i hoovered this while steffan chatted away left came back with my plate of desserts hoovered that silently listening mhhm mmmmhmmm mmmm yes yes etc etc left again one more round of dessert and a coffee and left it at that. i tried not to treat it like the mandarin after eating there i want to fucking diiiiiiiie.
setting up for something. i would shoot myself if i was a wedding planner or any sort of planner i’m already totally freaking out over my party. melodie is going to take control for me so i don’t go kookoo bananas so much. all these tables had in caps lock bold font screaming at you PLEASE DON’T SIT HERE.
interesting to be here with the absence of toronto’s music industry crowd. that guy asked me who i was there for, a magazine? newspaper? as i was taking a picture of his cups. the devil in me wanted to say something retarded but i said cheese boutique instead, and then my blog and to answer the question you were about to not ask is, steffan howard will be at cheese boutique this saturday 12-4 cooking up lunch for you. remember how i went with melodie last saturday? ok so now you can go there this saturday and eat your face off yourself. say raymi sent you and maybe you will get a high five or something.
apple bread pudding yessssss fantastic and if i could i’d eat it for an entire day along with a crazy red wine chambord spice drink i invented myself by a fire in a sweater looking out my huge cabin window at snow and deer. ps. i told a tender at the ossington last nite i was an ex tender (apologizing for my ridiculous drink order) and he kinda smirked at me when he served my drink (chambord/vodka soda) i asked if there was something funny he said no he was just like omg she’s an ex-bartender what do i garnish this drink with. i said if it’s a ridiculous drink like this, garnish with nothing though a lime would be the right way to go albeit its want to confuse the patron into thinking it’s a cran vodka. god my head is full of so many opinions and knowledge it is suffocating all from a picture of cinnamon apples too wonder what’s next?
my every move was being charted by the curious kitchen staff (there were a lot of them you have an army in there, quite impressive) so i didn’t want to look like a pig therefore passed on this. i am trying very very hard enacting my portion control self-mandate.
my to go containers over there on the left. that was one of the guys in the kitchen. he seemed like he was important in there. you never know people’s rank, cos there’s those who are humble and unassuming and then there are the braggart bottom rungers who chuff themselves up at you in life and you’re like uhhh who the hell are you? not talking about this guy at all by the way, just a few recent encounters i’ve had which amuse me like everything else since the beginning of time forever and ever amen. i forgot how squirly blogging makes me now that i’m doing more of it.
palais royale cool insider info history lesson: squatters were found living all over this place when they bought it and a couple had a tent set up nearby or on the property that palais let stay there in exchange for security, which worked for a little bit until i guess it didn’t anymore. this is why they do the charity donation buffet, they have a heart and i guess are so stinking rich can afford it. as i was hauling dumpfuls of food into my to-go containers i asked one kitchen guy what they did with the leftovers, charity? then i felt bad and greedy despite feeling like mother theresa cos i was feeding my roommates but anyway, he goes no, the staff eat it. then i thought shit am i taking all their lunch? surely they must eat while everyone else eats too? one more lesson see how those brown doors are arched like that? it’s because the palais was built for housing boats, must be easier to fit them through an arched doorway. how very water gypsy.
downstairs where the bathrooms are is also very beautiful there’s couches and lounge chairs perfect pick-up spot for men and women hittin’ the head. you can get away with creeping around by looking important sitting in a chair on your phone making a pretend call.
i just learned that grosso means fat and that’s the name of that pasta i got from CB on the weekend. no chance in hell i’m eating it now. thanks babelfish! oh wait i have dyslexia, it says grasso up there not grosso (pasta’s actual name). sorry for the wig out.
how mysterious is that photo of me i look as though i’m in fur on the set of the devil’s advocate and it looks like i’m smiling i don’t smile when i sleep i frown because i have intense dreams. no i’m kidding that wasn’t even funny. f. f for failure. oh i thought of this in the shower yesterday when i got back from the gym after a nip of malbec. if malbec ever decides to change its name it should be world peace.
last nite i had a chat about my ten year blog anniversary party with melucas which will be mid/late november at wrong bar. venue is locked down. check. i want to hire a comedian to mc the night and i know exactly who. i’m going to start talking to advertisers, sponsors (booze) and companies (products) so i can have crazy retarded epic gift bags as i know bribing you assholes is the only fuckin way you’re gonna come. i’m going to make a compilation of all the songs ever written about me and play them at certain points (if you want to actually perform your song then you are invited to do so). i welcome all artists to do some sort of performance art at any point throughout the evening. also there will be a mic placed somewhere so if you have the balls you may approach it and address the crowd with a LIVE HATER COMMENT which i bet will not fucking happen either because no one will have the courage aside from the crazies who show up. you may also say a live nice comment too, talk about how long you’ve read my blog, compliment my outfit, who cares anything. i guess i’ll have to write a speech that i’ll then nervous ramble cry through ughhh don’t hold me to that. there’ll be karaoke, lucas will also dj so crazy dance party too and a couple bands. don’t worry cheapskate “friends” “media” “bloggers” your names will be on the guest list. everyone else tickets will be cheap. i’m going to have it catered. there’ll be a silent auction of my junk, clothing, art and proceeds will go to charity. think i covered everything there is to cover. oh wait, show of hands what’s your favourite booze? lucas says jager cos everyone will drink more and stay longer but if i go redbull then i can get vodka and then all the geezers can give’r more too? ever see backstage at any music festival all the guys not done with the rock and roll (forties) drink energy pops like mad. do you like my totally professional method of party planning? you’ve seen my wrong bar party photos in the past so you know it’ll be a good time.
ten years is a big deal. they say (carly told me this) once you put in 10000 hours into something, or 100000? whatever is equivalent to ten years but yeah once you put that time in that’s when you are considered an “expert” on something so guess what i can now add expert blogger to most famous canadian blogger since 2000. technicality, true. burn!
can’t wait to have a nervous breakdown any time now leading up to this event i’m going to have to start taking chill pills the week prior so that i have a steady mellow state and can act like a human being. i am terrible with stress. comes from my grandma for sure. keeps you on your toes i guess.
so once i lock down some free shit and corporate sponsorship i’ll have to start doing the media rounds.
*update* comedian/host confirmed. IT’S ALL HAPPENIIIIING.
sorry i’ll try not to talk about haaaaaaaaters anymore. i become momentarily entertained but then it really pisses people off who totally do not hate me and then we have the same fight over and over again. here’s a quickie post before i have to dash out.
if I leave a nasty comment i am a hater if i leave a fawning comment i am alright oh raymi can so many negative nasty haters really be wrong? they just see you that’s all. no big deal. content. take a picture if yourself thinking about it over a drink and some gourmet pizza…
raymi: no you’re nothing that’s the thing. if you leave a nasty comment, you are a nasty person. if you leave a nice comment, you are a nice person. not just here, anywhere, in general. get it? look instead of just trying to dig at me as a person, tell me what it is that is pissing you off about me so much.
i worked for my gourmet pizza you jealous little twat so if you hate that, maybe step it up a little for yourself and earn your own gourmet pizza.
mom: The reason you get more nasty comments then most is because of the large volume of traffic. It comes with the territory.
So you attract the fans and the miserable jealous ones too who shoot off negativity for attention.
If you’re asking them to tell you what pisses them off
your opening up a whole can of worms because everything pisses off critical abusers.
If you are open though to being critiqued on certain aspects,
you need to be strong enough to know what is true & good for you, and what isn’t.
For instance. Sometimes you say yourself you have so many photos and you can’t decide so you put them all up.
So less might be best in certain instances.
Its all about experimenting with suggestions and figuring out which ones are more fitting to you.
why on earth would the volume of photos i post get on someone’s nerves? they can get fucked for all i care. me saying tell me what bothers you so much is basically being like, i dont care what you think but maybe YOU should think about why you felt the need to tell me this opinion of yours that you took the time to share. is it going to change me? what is the intent aside from the obvious desire to hurt me. i don’t even have time to have this back and forth volley because i am too busy living my dream and achieving my goals and sharing it on my blog. if someone is jealous that’s their problem not mine and guess what i AM human and i DO have feelings and i am sad a LOT of the time and this ISN’T always easy. it IS work.
I love your photos Raymi, every one of them – an interesting chronology, to say the least.
You look like you have some Norse in your lineage, and your actions are like those of a carefree swede, please tell me your part Svenska!
Thanks for brightening up my day.
i love this comment!!!!
ok, i’ll confess. you killed papa doc with your voodoo.
the bee says:
its so lame that people keep coming back, looking at this blog and leaving nasty hurtful comments. its so simple, if you don’t like, don’t look. the end. clearly they’ve got a case of the jelly mellies and think they can break you down and then what.. you’ll stop blogging? will they feel like they’ve succeeded if you stop? or would they just be bored now they don’t have a blog to read. aaaaannoying.
raymi: you mean i won you over?
well bee according to the first “hater” comment they’re all supposed to be right, but, about what? i don’t see the point. what does it matter to me if 400 people hate me, if they hate me why are they charting my every waking move? is it like ok magazine?
won me over? no, you played ping pong with me. it’s all just a base form of entertainment. like big brother meets the bachelor. you are not to take it personally, negative or positive. we come back-haters and fawners and in-betweeners ’cause there is nothing good on tv anymore and we are too tired to masturbate so we watch you in your cage. like silence of the lambs but shot in toronto. u see?
in my cage? ok you’re a little affected there. thank you for explaining to me that i am entertainment, i’ve been doing this dance for ten years and now i finally see that i am entertainment. guess what water is wet too i learned that this morning also. i do not take it personally as i don’t take it seriously, how can you take anyone seriously if they’re anonymous and saying the most ridiculous shit to engender a response? you aren’t human to me if you don’t act it.
well kid, of course you take it seriously so drop that affectation. look…all we are saying is give peace a chance and think about larger dreams. you gonna learn to write about shit that matters? or what? this here not the chronicles of narnia. it’s the chronicles of excess. i enjoy reading about your early stage alcoholism but i need more cowbell. you got one thing right though. i am an asshole. a nothing? that’s excessively cruel. and inaccurate. the end.
when you prod at someone unnecessarily you become a nothing to them as a means to protect theirself from harm. you fucking slung mud at me with that alcy comment, uncool. you have offensive social manners. you have mentioned the pink elephant in the room because you are bored, therefore, boring. this is the chronicles of pays my fucking bills if you are looking for literature WALK TO THE FUCKING LIBRARY. ASSHOLE. you seek attention from someone who makes their living based upon it. i have won. i take my blog seriously. you, your comments, i do not. i knew you would confuse that and i kept it there because i thought perhaps i might actually be dealing with a smart person here.
what shit matters to you why don’t write about your fucking self?
also, my buddy tyler stewart of the barenaked ladies had this to say, prior to your stupidity, (his opinion matters, he is a legend),
You are so ALL RIGHT it’s ridiculous. Don’t change your path, quest, anything. You know what you’re doing more than any of your peers. Keep on being RAYMI. Until you can’t…. xox
all of this went down here i have no idea the relevancy of the comment linkage to the post itself. do you guys even know how much crazy i deal with behind the scenes? like, people who don’t even know they’re crazy. you threaten to make an example of them and they come back with ludicrous shit like documented evidence of my attempting to screw with their miiiinds. seriously. so, do me a favour “haters” unless you have some actual constructive criticism for me, leave me the hell alone. i mean, go to town all you want just realize i have actual mentally (scary) ill people contacting me alongside you. some people don’t have the capacity of understanding that part of my job is making people become obsessed with me. the scariest part can and is the part when it actually works but yet, they don’t know how effective a salesman i am so they legit obsess and freak on me, remember the most random obscure bits of information about you i can only imagine how terrifying it is for real celebrities aghh i’m freaking myself out now bye i wasted the day like an insane shut in like the good old days.
ironic how i feel no guilt over blogging yet immense guilt over the time it takes to do such. also writing. being an indoor kid. i feel disgusted with myself when i feel like i have wasted time, or a day but i know i do a lot, more than many. i am learning how to mellow out it’s hard.
flickr is being a bugger so no pix just words for now see ya.
last night i flirted with pole dancing lessons at flirty girl fitness studios with carly (ripe off a week-long tiff bender she was). do i seem like the pole dancing type? (obviously) i mean do i seem like one of those girls? kinda cheesy no? well, i’ve always wanted to try it i think its been around for years now since women decided to start owning their sexuality, taking back their power all that cougary awesome shit. i put pole dancing classes in the to do pile years ago it’s not something you wake up one day and go oh, think i’ll try that. you need motivation. you need a gaggle of girls to go along with which is cool as i think it’d be a perfect bachelorette party activity for sure. i’m the type of person who will do or try anything, i am not rigid, i have fun. this obviously seems like a fun thing to try and one day you may find yourself in a dive bar with a pole, how cool would it be to dominate that? like the one at tattoo rock parlour (gag) i always try to do some moves on it. there’s also one at annex wreckroom. and one in the back room of the bovine and i love it when crust punks climb it myself included.
tramp stamp! i told carly she needs an image makeover she can’t go myspace anymore people keep pre-judging her everywhere we go and it infuriates me, they don’t take her seriously, they’re rude, ugh, i will come back to this.
i will preface this with yesterday was day one ground zero menses bloated. i am way leaned out today i would have preferred to be photographed on a lankier day though. over it.
i’m going back today with my week long media pass to try other classes they have as i suck at pole dancing. the studio is located closer to me than my gym so i’m going to do something each day this week. i am so pumped fabfind found me to begin with to hook me up with all these services in the city, perfect for my spazztastic will do and/or try anything MO all you have to do is suggest me something and i’m game. pretty easy. also when you have ample time for this shit. next i’m getting a facial, all this super normal stuff i never do because i never have time and i never pamper myself. i have been doing it wrong for a long time. living backward.
i’m just used to putting someone else first and doing little things for myself IF there is enough time after that like i look at my life and all the luxuries i have, the ins and outs and i am confronted by so much empty time that i know will fill up and it does but beyond that i have laid out this life for myself that is unstructured, free and open it’s kind of overwhelming to be so free.
which is precisely why i am boyfriend hunting like i need a babysitter or something. i am attracted to my opposite, someone controlling and stern and structured. well i thought i was up until very recently. had a hang out with one of the men in my life and he was the moodiest motherfucker ever i could not believe it. brought me back to a few past relationships, it was borderline abusive and i have only known this person a handful of weeks. too soon to be operating as such. also, oh no you dih-in’t.
i will never call this person again and i don’t expect them to get in touch with me and i do not care either way. i am never putting myself into a situation like that ever again. i don’t know why or how i am able to tolerate so much abuse and stress and make allowances for people who are shitty to me. i think it fascinates me how awful one can be i feel challenged by it emotionally and i let it continue and the person’s moods rollercoaster all around you they are like begging you for confrontation and you never give it so they act completely mental and you wake up one day and go ok this has got to stop now i’m sorry you thought i was an actual cruel person and you like want me to tell you where to go, spar with you, i just don’t operate like that. my heart is good and it is there. i am not evil i actually seek harmony i don’t know why you have to piss all over everything all of the time.
some guys sabotage the relationship too. they can’t believe the catch they have caught so they test you every fucking day. it’s sick. i have been in so many fucked up emotionally abusive and physically abusive relationships just had a moment of clarity about it i feel like murdering these people right now but i learned how to let anger go. i don’t really blow my fuse ever despite it seeming so on here. i have minor little spats that take me so much courage to get the nerve of releasing that by the time i actually say something i am already unburdened and the person is like, that was it?
so i go between being completely fine with being single, fuck that i don’t need a man self-empowerment moments to outright loneliness. but i was always lonely so i’m used to it. it’s a different kind of loneliness. it can make you bratty and spend way too much money. it makes you picky. it’s nice to be able to pick and choose who you spend time with and you don’t have to worry if you and your partner both like this person and the best part you don’t have to force your friend into hanging out with your wet blanket (who treats you like shit anyway ahahhaa).
and everyone invites you places again because it’s easier to be a plus one instead of a plus two and you don’t have to fight over whether both of you feel like doing this thing. sorry we can’t come because someone wants to stay in on the couch. which i DO love but you know, it’s nice to spread yourself around when you’re in your twenties.
i notice some of the men i meet or talk to (“work”) make a point of mentioning their wives or girlfriends. never really noticed that before. it’s like they are out loud reminding themselves not to do or say anything inappropriate but also so you don’t get any ideas and not to be a priss or conceited but some of these guys there is not a high chance in hell of me doing aaaanything with them ever so this is why i feel like they feel it’s important to let me know from the get-go they’re taken like if i know this but still make a move i at least knew and therefore it’s on me.
hahahahha making this my fb profile photo. i was like can you imagine if casie were here we were mental enough without her. of course i showed up baked. slightly. biking cancels out my high. also my period made me super weak and i was really crampy and i’ve been too lazy to buy advil so i’ve been all hippie dealing with the pain, literally, weed (if it’s good enough for cancer patients) and just letting the cramps happen.
ok so this post went off topic (slightly)(don’t they all though and isn’t that what my blog is all about anyway?) when i started being a martyr about how selfless i am hahahaha and apparently i come across as down to earth. ??????
we learned this move called the fireman’s pole. i sucked. well, i already know how to do some twirls but my brain is dyslexic and i just can’t do it the way i’m taught. carly was really good and smooth.
coincidentally after all this i went to for your eyes only for a night cap with a date. only because it was closer to bier markt (horrible cake and service, rude to carly) and closer yet than that awful pub i went to two sundays ago. i have a habit of going back to places that suck, i blog that they suck, then i go back for more suck and yep, they still suck. see how i am an abuse enabler? please remind me i want to go to that adorable pub at the corner of wellington and portland. so charming and irish aghhh that’s the type of place that makes me want to have a boyfriend.
being in this class and then later seeing the skills put to practice (in the club), well, mad respect. i am keeping my blogging job though. met a guy through a guy friend recently told him i was quitting my bar job, now this person knows of me through bartending, not blogging first, so he thinks i’m an idiot with nothing else going on for me. i’ve had a lot of these conversations recently but anyway i say no i’m not getting another job because i am a writer, pause, blogger. he cuts me off and smugly says that i should just say that i’m a writer and keep the blogger part a secret. i snapped at him and said actually no, i shouldn’t. blogging has opened so many doors for me more than many writers i’ve ever met. i’ve been meaning to do one of my raymi signature railroading blog yelling manifestos for awhile now inspired by this moment in time. i am proud to be a blogger. i am not sheepish about it at all in any way shape or form. i listed off on four hundred fingers all the opportunities blogging has gotten me, parties, concerts, fame, merchandise, money and then i said so that is why i will not say writer and hide the blogger. a blogger is so much more than a writer. a blogger transcends. ten years of my life is shackled to this it’s the longest relationship i’ve ever had. a blogger is dedicated. a writer, starves. ahha ok ok i’m both i’ll shut up.
i’m pretty sure i tangented at him in a very smug tone oh yeah, i should be embarrassed? did you know i made my fucking self famous off this blogging thing i’m supposed to keep secret according to you, whom, might you be by the way? no seriously. who the fuck are you? then everyone at the table laughs finally cos my change of tone had released some tension thank christ. i get very indignant and defensive. i am ready to fight a war at the drop of a hat. it’s terrible. deal with it. you think you’re taking someone lying down when you meet me but you’re wrong and i apologize. this only happens when i meet someone equally as defensive as i am so can i really be to blame? it’s like 50% my fault so i’m not that much of a monster. sorry for challenging you intellectually. i think this is why the whole (hater) commenting on (my) blog thing works for me and in an over-saturated medium (blogging/social media) i stand out because my voice is so, angry at the world. i got heart and half the time i am an idiot so it all works.
i had to get chalk for my hands to make it tacky as the pole gets slick fast if you sweat a lot like i do. the girl was like not too much cos it will get too tacky. um my sweat disintegrated that chalk immediately i could go through an entire bag.
carly was mesmerized and enchanted. it’s a fun environment, the lights are cozy, my favourite desctriptive word. the facilities are pink, which i love. hot pink chandaliers, pink boxing gloves, inviting and girly. no boys allowed is the best part.
can’t you picture a girl’s night out/in beginning here? wine pole dance movie rental crying on the couch trash talking men cathy comics chocolates… in fact i saw a flirty girl fitness demo last year at the precious metal gala and knew one of the girls, daina. also played against her in dodgeball. look how fit she is.
she said they keep it sporty as it can go pervy just like that when a bunch of dudes are watching a demo. this was an all chick event put on by harley davidson. i went alone and felt awkwaaaard. woah check my hair out in there i’m not looking i don’t want to get trapped in my archives. it happens. meanwhile i purposely selected the perviest screen shot for my vimeo video. prick.
had to stop myself from breaking out the jazz moves alone in here. sometimes at my gym i am tempted to use the empty studio room but then everyone would watch and i’m too shy for that they think i’m mental enough as is in the crazy outfits i wear.
would i do this again? well not pole dancing but everything else totally. i still think you should try it (pole dancing) you’re probably a better listener than i am. i didn’t take it as seriously as i should have because i know my body’s limits and i’m stubborn. like, i will never get the knack of knitting. or putting a duvet cover on. or enjoy the sound of accents. people just have their “things” and you can’t fuck with that but i WILL be going there today for something so maybe i’ll bump into one of you, or something else this week. i think i’ve convinced them to let me take someone with me to take more photos. if they say no then fine no more coverage i’ll just treat it like an actual work out and tell you about the results with wooooords.
tickle trunk land. britt came by the other day before i cleaned my room and was like uhh is this what your brain looks like? yes. it does, i said. my mom used to say a messy room means a messy mind. clutter free room, clutter free mind. we were spoiled rotten and never had to do chores as kids, or clean our rooms so our rooms were always trashed. my mom would pay neighbourhood kids to clean my room isn’t that retarded? close friends of family kids, they got to go through all my things so many things i couldn’t even catalogue what i had so when my mom would let them leave with my shit i’d see something around the neighbourhood and be like HEY THATS MY FUCKING SHIRT! stuff would be missing for months and i wouldn’t notice til i saw it. i found so much shit next door at kristi’s grrrrrrrr mom so pissed what the hell is wrong with you?
i love knowing a sous chef. especially one at marben. guess who is eating this city. jesus wait’ll you see what happens tomorrow and the night after. anyway alex wouldn’t let me leave until he made me something. his delicious bass was so delicious (when do you get to go napoleon dynamite reference in real life ever and mean it? never!) carly ate it and she’s vegetarian! you know how alex and i met? he insulted me on twitter in his feed. i screamed back at him. he said @raymitheminx you’re such a fuck’n show off. so i DM’d him (i don’t give people i decide to be enemies with attention in my feed) YOU REALIZE THIS IS MY FUCKING JOB ASSHOLE something to that effect. love at first sight hahahaa. thanks for the food (and the wine) alex!