when you talk about me I WIN
i haven’t been feeling quite myself lately. i feel like, a ghost. i know that sounds uber gay and grandiose and who cares. stress-related, mostly, when i peel away all the superficial things i worry about and engage in purely for entertainment crutches, carrying out my boredom exercises. i do so much bullshit that i shouldn’t just because i know i can. it has its effect on my person, people around me, in between the debauchery and secret ridiculous endeavours, i have this blog thing here where somedays it is just nothing but abuse, negativity and being chastised for everything in between all that, it’s like, no relief. ever. can you imagine that? a blip in my email, a live shitty comment when i’m out distracting myself from how miserable i am right now and because it is constant you lose yourself in it and have to decide now, do i fight my millionth battle about my hairstyle? or do i just approve and ignore? having my character assassinated time and time again from a virtual stranger, fuck i dunno, it really is true i guess that every time you talk about me, i win. so why should i care?
as lois pointed out to me while we were driving to hamilton (oh man what a goddamn hell hole that place is) the people who dog me, dog me out of fear. you traipse around like you ain’t a fuckin’ trainwreck yourself, that’s the funny thing. me? do i tell lies? do i pose as anything other that what i am? how is this false having nice hair, pampering myself, taking care of myself? it’s fake going on adventures and meeting new people and having platinum hair. did it not occur to you that this is a business? and long black hair might not move product as successfully as mega blond can? goofy f—ing pictures of me in a tree with a can of pabst with long gnarly tumbleweed black hair isn’t exactly a streamlined image and you know, people treated me like DOG SHIT when i had black hair. i can never fucking win. i look like this or that, you dicks always have to make a shitty comment about it. i bet i can find 40 things wrong with your appearances inside ten seconds. with pleasure. though believe it or not i prefer to make fun of people for more creative reasons like choice of clothing, because you CHOSE to wear those stupid pants, it was an act of intention. i like to make fun of personalities too, type As are a great and most deserved target cos they try soooo HARD to appear like they’ve got in together. they so don’t. their worlds crumble when they run out of things to organize. boring.
i’m trying to be a type a person and i tell you, it’s fucking insanely depressing. boring. superficial even. yeah for sure my blond hair is a fake out, doesn’t mean i don’t look good with it. i am not letting the blond slags go by the way, this is my blog my diary i don’t know when the people decided they could just own me and talk about me like they’re in charge or something. your shit is rude, it is rude to tell someone i liked you before. it’s a blow to discover how much society is lacking in filters, intelligence, and accountability. i call you on it, don’t make a fucking battle with me and get defensive. you put me under a microscope ALL the time and i take it and take it but you, you can’t accept being wrong. that’s so little of you. ok i am bored of this now.
shasha is an amazing man. i was even blog spotted by a cool chick, hey vivian. i was posing for a photo beside these bread ovens declaring that i bet i could fit inside one whilst simultaneously making hugely HUGELY offensive references about them and then i hear LOOK IT’S RAYMI HIII RAYMIIIIIIII! egoboner!
i better hurry this up i have an important business meeting after this. i’ve already done my nails coral. polish name guava. i can’t wait for more spring pastels because i am a princess cupcake girl nerd. i am shapeshifting.
holy crapola do i ever look retarded. what are the odds of selecting a hat in the same shape as a hair net? they also had beard nets. i was going to put one on but then shasha pulled me away to give me a present. a teddy bear. i tell you, everything about yesterday, business as usual. completely normal. shasha said there’s a video on youtube of him being rained down on by cookies. cookie rain. kris and were like I WANT A COOKIE RAIN TOO. haha.
something right out of edward scissorhands right there. learning how to put stamps on cookies is a science. there is no way i could figure that out. those are all new agey imprints i think one represents playing hacky sack, patchouli brew recipe, love etc ha ha oh hippies gotta love ‘em.
who gets recognized in a bread factory in etobicoke? this guy. yeah yeah i blogged about it a few times but she didn’t see it.
more of these later on.
yesterday was an adventure blitz. blitzkrieg.
hung out with a vegan. ate like one. maybe i’ll try it out for a bit? i’m going to go george costanza with a twist of jim carrey in yes man (hilarious movie) and say yes to everything. uh except for that.
first time at this fresh even though i pass it all the time. bbq burgers.
i smothered mine in that hot sauce they have. lots of it. as usual i was warned against too much. pah. that’s pussy talk.
alrighty roo i have laundry folding to do, shower, power outfit creating, and it’s early to bed tonight cos will be on camera tomorrow for the globe at TMR they’re doing a feature on me and casie and social media. by the way, i am mega more toned. i can do chin ups now. i am throwing myself into working out and fitness like it’s nobody’s business it’s the only thing keeping me together right now and i love seeing results. i have to figure out a solid outfit for tomorrow. suggestions?