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what can i say? i learn from the best. ewww check the scary yolk one on the right. gnarly! righteous!

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components. when we go to the family day gathering tour of Shasha‘s factory like somethin’ out of willy wonka and the chocolate factory, except, adventurehouse on the loose at a bread factory eating fresh bread right out of the oven YOU CAN JOIN US PLEASE DO! melodie is stoked, she’s a naturopath so this bio buds healthy sciencey stuff, (oh right she’s becoming a scientist or something too) my colleague tells me there is nothing like fresh baked goods and our take will be loads of loaves of bread and ginger snaps but most importantly, spelt bread. melodie is gaga for it. i am now too since having easy’s rotisserie chicken on spelt twice over. the point of all that crap is this meal in these wonderful photos will get better once i get my hands on nicer bread.

Family Day 2011 OPEN HOUSE something great to do with your kids cos they’re gonna be home from school anyway HOW GREAT FOR YOU FANTASTIC HAHAHA BURN.

Monday, February 21st, 2011
10 am – 1 pm

To register, email info@shashabread.com
Subject title: Family Day registration

i also assure you that shasha, the guy himself, is a trip. he may as well be as eccentric as willy wonka. i wonder if he owns those movies.

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adorable. these are delicious too. can you imagine eating only shasha stuff for 2 weeks? we were considering raymi doing that but i think i would die of boredom. plus, hello carbs.

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i am sneaking in scotch bonnet when we go and that ali’s roti sauce that could kill a canary instantly. i think the scotch bonnet will suffice on second thought.

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and i am tucker maxing all over the place with that bullhorn. read that story i linked to.

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so i’ll do a high end version of this and guess what? i am seriously going to start cooking again. do you know how much i have gleaned from my cuisinery barfly touring of toronto? remind me to make a list of every resto i’ve been to. i made a list of every burnoutington restaurant i dined and feasted at all the while being a twig stoner hoovering my way through restaurant chain after greasy fast food joint, you name it. i even broke my stringent three year mcdonald’s ban.

ooh in this one i’m having pasta after a year of no pasta, at bar mercurio. love that place. i discovered it. me. taking it back.

and there i am again. eating. again.

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the butter i was just trying to melt for our toast. next time will be spelt toast. my dad loved these stoner mountains. they taste pretty much exactly like how they look. gloriously awful and bland but amazing and retarded. ketchup for dipping sauce too. epic trash. i halted on the squeeze tube pesto (haha) didn’t want to fuck with the fantastically mellow method of this shit pile.

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have you guessed the ingredients yet? 4 eggs. half a rotisserie chicken from mary lou’s that i tore apart like a beast it was a great moment. i ate some of the skin but included every fatty gross part of the chicken i could and skin cos i wanted the fat to flavour this concoction.

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my stoner mountain. dad’s was way bigger, and i let him have the leftovers. normally i am a greedier but i had no appetite yesterday at all. post funeral insanity kept myself lubed on oyster bay and steady ganj intake. i battled an anxiety attack all morning long. oh right i forgot the rest of the ingredients, mary lou’s taters. they’re seasoned but you really can’t taste a thing. i added pepper and salt and a bit of garlic salt. still pretty bland. the cheese helped but i wasn’t feeling flavour. i think i’m sick. well i have the sad sick, no appetite, i feel hollow and gaunt. it took me over an hour to spoon force feed myself apple sauce and my coffee craving has been minimized. still drinking it though cos it’s the only thing i can manage. bit of grapefruit perrier.

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my workout lifted my spirits but i was a pathetic catastrophy waiting to happen so james moved me to cardio. i collapsed during push-ups, so weak. i ran on the treadmill at 7 clicks listening to this

once it gets to the heavy part i turn into the bad cop in terminator 2 chasing the car. sometimes i run so fucking fast i think i am a genuine athlete. the faster you run you can almost outrun your problems and the adrenaline hike is just like raaaaaaaaaawr you can bury your insanity in it pounding out a never ending flee. music is very helpful in working out and putting out the world. i also ran just as hard to she walks on me, hole. of course i did. assholes.

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at the pub.

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sadness and nerves look like this.

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my cousin and i. he is a writer like me. kerouac side. why do we have the same fat puffy face ugh drinking goes to our faces in this family.

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i liked this and kismet happenings when you’re in a certain headspace or way. i would absolutely LOVE to exist on a floating orchard. read half of this. basically a woman is in love with her house that her grandpa made. then i actually looked at her, she’s got crazy black hair and some grey in it and a rumply cute apple boomer generation face. actually, not too different from my own in this photo:

i love little babushkas. i am getting married as soon and as fast as i fucking can so i can fulfill my lifelong wearing an apron forever fantasy. rick asked me a million times if i was sure i wasn’t italian, his nickname now is the croat. haahaha. anyway where was i? oh who cares i think a spinster from the annex made that book and i find that hilarious and i don’t know why.

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yikes guy. sad outfit. tired face. gwyneth paltrow and i wore black one pieces on the same day.

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and also on that same day we were margot tennenbaum, both went to a funeral. man, when she got up on that piano in those amazing heels at the grammys i was so scared nervous for her. i loved the grammys by the way. it was the perfect thing to experience and watch. so many perfectionist performances i was spellbound.

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my workout tools. said sad bastard little hospital foodie (LOLZ!) apple sauce cup. gahahahahahahamhaj hi i’m a foodie. hospital foodie to be exact.

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sick sad skinny. james said the word sick even and i almost barfed. toxic weekend.

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yeah yeah blah blah ok see you later.

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this month has been pretty trying so without further ado, here is how i handled my february hand of cards last night. i went out to meet a dude at cadillac lounge. i had a hamburger. i haven’t eaten a hamburger since i worked at the central so this might be an indication of how i was feeling at the time. i arrived late by cab even though it’s just down the street. i was a disaster but i looked very pretty, glowing. i do full glam makeup when i feel hung to dazzle camouflage the trash i am feeling. yesterday i felt super white trash and i didn’t want to hear or discuss one single above G-level rating thing. period. no man stress, no drug stress or booze or anything, no fighting no yelling everyone please go away. i bawled my eyes out when i got home in time to decide there was no chance in hell i was making it to the dodgeball tournament.

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i am even skinnier than this right now. stress sad skinny. i’d post the photo i took of myself last night before i went out but i think people are still too conservative and hush hush about how i post nudes like we dance around it and i dunno, i guess it makes me look insane. i showed one of these pictures to army guy who i met last night (i met him at wolf parade too once prior to this, he doesn’t live in the city so, nothing’s really gone anywhere and i have pissed him off a lot by my paltry jagged methods of flirt correspondence) and in one of my nude photos i’m grinning, teeth showing. i said i looked insane in this one and he said yeah there is something insane about a smiling naked person. he’s really funny and smart, great personality. is totally into messes. he’s been on cnn. house away from the city (appealing) blah blah blah.

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the balance of personal life stress to work stress should always be tipped in the favour of work stress. one should always always be stressed out more so by work and consumed by that rather than personal life. when work is your escape from the personal, shit is not good in the hood. i’m feeling this way lately and noticing too many people around me are too. toxic. not good times. i’m pretty much going on a late february escape hiatus once family day is over. i am expediting my passport this week. running away is one of my favourite self-indulgences.

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when i showed up to the cadillac i cutely jokingly said i don’t want to pay! when i came in looking at the cash tray on the table and the admittance fee sign whatever dumb thing it bore. two rockabilly guys standing there, one on the left says OF COURSE YOU DON’T HAVE TO PAY, LOOK AT YOU! meanwhile rockabilly asshole on the left goes PAY EVERYBODY PAYS.

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i was kidding because i had already used my debit card in the cab (guys, here is one of my secret shames. i use my debit card like it’s a bottomless cab fare well. i am lazy and gross and disgusting with money. i see this as bad as a shoe shopping addiction) and i didn’t want to take out any money AND i was on a semi-date-hang well, i was expecting army guy to pay for my hangover beer and hamburger. he ended up not doing that, he is not someone to use, i can tell. i was being tested to see if i was a gold digger bitch. my bill was 18, i paid/tipped 23, the 2 of which came from army guy (why am i adding these details???) and i had a grasshopper. the burg was delicious. army guy had just had kraft burger. i was jealous.

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so i told him absolutely everything of why i was a mess. i had nothing to lose and i had already gotten what i wanted out of him anyway, his company. maybe that is why i go on so many dates. actually, that is precisely why i go on so many dates. i cannot be alone. you try being alone with myself for 48 hours. 48 hours of non-stop raymi. gaaaaaaaah nightmare. i go through humans like crazy as soundboards because i am a giver, once i’m all empty i have to consume a new person to fill the void again. i am a pleasure seeker and people pleaser. it was convenient that army guy is attracted to hot messes. before i put the word out to head out i had made tentative arrangements to meet one of the pbc up by bloor/keele (why? so far!) at a pub. if things went well with army guy then i would have followed him around a bit more but he was staying at his friend’s condo and i don’t think they’d appreciate us spooning in the middle of the livingroom on the floor. hey what’s going on here? shut up and get out otherwise you are going to be the little spoon.

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so army drove me to pbc. he said i was very demanding. we got almost there and then pbc says he’s meeting another pbc member at the dakota. so we turn the fuck around as i texted back omg fuck you i was right around the corner. as we are going to the dakota another text, oh you are? come! we’re upstairs. so now i know i am totally pushing my luck with army guy but its kinda obvs we wanna car hang so he doesn’t mind turning back AGAIN to the pub and unbeknownst to him the pbc member had also said come here first so i can impress my soccer team with how hot you are. challenge accepted. i said super pissed, on way back, ride just turned around 3 times stay there tell team.

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army and i make out in the car. it was great. he’s a good kisser, i of course, am immaculate. he also tried to mindfuck me into thinking he didn’t kiss on the first date and that all chicks from pof are just sluts or fat so now of course i have to pretend to be a prude. i went in for an awkward attack with my mouth open and then i just hung there embarrassed because i didn’t want to kiss someone with their mouth closed like it was kindergarden. i wanted to die. then we made out. two guys on the sidewalk double-taked me as i passed. my pants were very low and i was very sad skinny and my back dimples were showing. leather jacket and casie’s too small for me black sweater she left here one night. when i show my belly it’s a subtle fuck you to everyone. people have varying degrees of reaction to it that i pretend to not notice. when i wore my pink turtle neck to the beaver and afterward at sandy’s i let it hike so incredibly high it’s practically a tummy shirt what are they called again? belly shirts. these nights when i go out as a wastecase adorable loser sloppy mess with a belly shirt on it’s like i am a magic snowflake of shamelessness and it attracts a lot of tail. a lot. but inside i am dying, i really am. it’s like i can’t control this monster, but i can, and choose not to. not only that, i “turn”. i’m not a bad drunk or anything, i do get lippy. last nite rick said in toronto, no one would shove you like that (pbc got shoved at the dakota by the door guy. this is getting too long already so i’ll have to tell that story later) in scotland or something they’d not do it cos they know they’d get a fucking punch and it’s true. i really do believe that in some certain situations, violence is the answer. i declared at the front of the line that i wasn’t violent. but i could change.

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this is an unflattering angle but i assure you last night was a skinny night and today i feel positively skeletal. it will not last though. right so, i climb the stairs neurotically, i’m still totally mangled and that one grasshopper didn’t do the trick, i ran out of weed so it’s all complete edge, none taken off and every guy i pass returns my gaze. rick who i met last nite said i look everyone in the eye. i do. so i don’t want this much attention right now at all. i am pub drinking boy’s kryptonite. i was extremely hesitant to go out at all because i know pbc’s fondness of me and it always ends the same and even though i’m needy and selfish and craving man attention i morally believe it’s wrong to take advantage of someone who you know wants you but he’s your friend and you like hanging. there is no solution to this.

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i enter the back room. i like this pub it’s cozy as hell. it is perfect. i wonder if all pubs are cozy cos all british/irish/scottish etc people are always hungvoer and therefore always crave a fire and a pie and a pint hahaha firepie. ok so naturaly this table of hot soccer players look up at me as i enter and see me before pbc does, his back is to the threshold. immediately everyone is like, uh oh. the room gets a little more tense. i take the head of the table seat so i can stare at all of them. pbc is spellbound by me, he’s already tipsy which is bad because i get way cuter that way and then i do this thing where i turn the dimples on because i am enjoying being buttered up so fucking much it’s intoxicating it really is i don’t even need to order drinks all that flattery is enough for me. it’s mean and i shouldn’t do it but i do it anyway. for some reason, pbc is in perma-friend placement meaning, we do not get drunk and make out and it is infuriating him which pisses me off and then we fight and bicker. he is also seeing someone he finally informs me so what the fucking shit is that? i am sick of man shit stress liars players all of you fucking assholes look at what you are doing to me. look at what you do to women. not all of you but just the ones i’m attracted to.

exhale. ok i have to go plan a funeral outfit now. things just keep looking up. i think i’ll wear my black jumper i wore the night of the date auction. irony?

tomorrow is valentines day. when someone dates the city and every night is already valentines day for you pretty much you’d think the pressure would be on ten times more so. not to mention i got engaged on valentines day. the real reason it’s so cut throat is because women have to one-up each other all the fucking time. sad really. i think i one-upped everyone enough already and i don’t think getting the cutest richest man will make people like me anymore like how one chick clearly invented a date for herself at the auction to rub our noses in it when clearly the kid with wavy fluffy hair wanted to be miles away from this event. she trotted this boy in front of us, like we cared and the stank of desperation was palpable. we do not like each other at all, she went on a secret movie date with a guy i was semi-seeing on and off, she is a cunt who freaks out on other girls a lot then blogs about how no girls like her. she can’t get along with them because she does something to piss them off then like blacks out on why there’s beef. retarded. anyway i actually wanted to talk to her at the love a heart thing and maybe extend an olive branch, at the very least suss her out but no, she made zero seconds of chit chat with me before eagerly forcing an introduction of her date on me. hi, i am at a date auction event where i am to be auctioned off. because i am singlish. where you weren’t asked to but you came to be smug or something? i bet you would have been sold for a lot of money too. i cannot wait to hear how your valentine’s day turns out.

what am i doing? probably something i really really shouldn’t be.

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dominoe’s box is funneh. my dad and aunt had it the night before. what did i have? nothing for once. i had eaten at cafe taste.

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i love sitting here. i sit in the same spots in every restaurant i habit. i like this perch. perch of judgment.

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the space is all different now at brennen. it’s a total pirate ship. i love it.

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shawna is a hot little artist.

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severe prior to eyebrow tinting. stew came in my room last nite and said i looked really scary. i had my base on only so zero eyebrows or lips total shock of white. albino. plus my hair. i was a disaster yesterday. somethin’s in them february waters you know? we had drinks at sandy’s, bartender of the year. she got us destroyed. stew casually says oh that’s right the last time i hung here i didn’t wake up til 10pm the next day. oh thanks stew. i sang roy rorbison’s crying at the gladstone. we were on a tear. we started at the beaver. i wasn’t going to do anything because i was a legit mess but stew brought three tallys of stiegl and me him mel luc share them in my room i get an outfit together and we go to celebrate will munroe’s birthday. everybody in the back room held a candle, 36 of them. i have mine still. we were a real life birthday cake. my phone was dead. i stopped existing and i lost contact with you know who. he mind fucked me. i hate everything now. my camera batteries, dead too. it is amazing how much one’s addiction to their gadgets affects and alters their moods. also because i am a compulsive documenter not having my tools with me made me feel useless. i really wanted to photograph sandy’s place and her stuff. i guess it’s more special that way. i always like to have evidence, a memento. i am terribly sentimental. i have a photograph of every single person who has been in my room ever. sitting on my bed. clothed or not.

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loner soldier boy hero idol. worship. brennen is fantastic.

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stew was great last night though. he said i cannot leave you here tethered to your laptop because that was my intention. severely neurotic like a caged unblinking lemur. i flirted with a fuck ton of chicks last night to remedy everything. brought back a wholesome gay bait jock guy to the beaver from gladstone to also remedy my ego. but he was extremely wasted and therefore totally, ugh. then he says he was at a strip bar all night long. he’s a scoundrel like us. i picked him because he sang suzie q. luc said he sucked. yeah he sucked as a person but he sang the fuck out of that tune. i loved it. he danced too. in my head i was thinking all these objectifying things. told him we were going to the beav to get last call. like all drunk beasts, he followed the golden blond brick road. apparently a guy goosed him he wouldn’t shut up about it i said look get over it and go with it. look at you. i brought dustin there once and oh my god the gay bros were dying. it’s kinda mean to do that i think you can look but this guy likes pussy only you know? i think any dude could easily just be pushed into a scenario where who cares you know? that guy left, i gave him my card. i honestly am a nihilist right now so i don’t care if he ever finds me again. i just know that come monday i’ll have it together. the show must go on. funeral viewing tomorrow. also fantastic right?

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when i feel this low the only thing that i can control to make myself feel better is making other people feel better. so i was the key to the beaver party for that guy who would never ever go in there. i said this is a gay bar, after he got his dick squeezed. then i said, so? i love being catty. we shared a beer which he was amazingly grateful because his 24 hour stripper debauchery bender had obliterated whatever little brains he had to get himself into a situation like that to begin with. how do i keep attracting these loser fucks? i he was going to tail us to sandy’s but he gave up, i was relieved. i don’t have the energy to follow unworthwhile pursuits i don’t even want. typically i’m a go with the flow girl.

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no comment on my appearance. i belong in maddam toussad’s.

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time to bath it out.

oh what’s this, a new little muse.

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Hash would love to join the Raymi Army

Well My names Adam ive been a reader of your blog for a while enjoy it alot. Here’s a pic from my fav New York Crack Den the Carlton Arms. Hope i qualify for the Raymi Army.

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you can’t even see what my outfit looks like cos of all my layers. i am a present to be opened. i was in a rush to get out the door i didn’t get a proper outfit showcase series of self portraits because i thought i was needed for 8 and going to be late. wrong it started at eight but the bachelor/ettes weren’t going on til 10/11. yeah thanks for the heads up about that part nerds. also thanks for making me pay 5 dollars “for charity” i am a draw that was kind of stupid but funny so i paid it like the owner of a nightclub getting denied entrance. then my cab was a dick to me cos i made him wait a few minutes outside he tried to lecture me about not calling until i was ready (um i was trying to save time) and i was like honestly brah i do not need this stress from you right now i exclusively use beck all the time do not talk to me like this if this is a problem i can get out of this cab right now. he apologized. yeah it’s rude to make em wait but the customer is always right and turn down your squaky taxi cab news box it is irritating.

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melodie was a sexy raccoon yesterday cos of her eye makeup and striped sweater. that was my ex’s sweater that shrunk to be too small for him.

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i love fressen. it’s vegan. stayed despite that. ha ha.

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my new purse reminds me of sass so much. i miss that girl. she is one of my role models eve though she is younger than me.

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i forget what this is and what are those things? HI I AM A SKILLED FOODIE.

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see look at me. this is when haitham became competitive and wanted to win me. i said to the crowd that i would go home with whoever bought me, like straight up fucking leave this party right now so when haitham lost he was like ok bye and left right away i’m like dude i didn’t actually mean i was going to go home right at that exact moment, jesus and just cos i leave with you doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything. though we left with my purchaser and stayed up til 5 in the morning.

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vegan chocolate something or other. i charmed the fuck out of those girls. hi girls! i’m like how the hell do you make vegan chocolate and what do you think about those vegan idiot parents whose baby died of malnutrition? haitham was impressed by every single thing i said and i felt bad because my charm was being dangled like a wad of bills on a string just out of reach but oh so close.

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just a good night kiss. by this point we were completely totally gacked no one was fucking anything.

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like so.

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me and my fresh kill (SO JOKING). girls girls girls, ladies, my students. if you need to bribe people and bully them into dating you it’s kind of um, something.

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this was so highschool it really was. it was for charity yet it was more for who can be most expensive, it was super competitive and reminded me of streetsville the blond cliquey jocks. that guy, when i started dancing near him he was hypnotized and i totally would have medusa’d him some more if he wasn’t so obliterated that he could no longer breathe with his mouth shut. i think his mouth is open in this picture too. the girl in the red dress got it up to 450 i think, and she got those two blond groupies she was bossing around up on stage too under the guise of a threesome but i was paying close attention, there will be no threesome, they were just the cheering section. like in highschool. see i told you. i am just bitter i went for less.

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here i am sandwashing affan because he tried to slip me the tongue. it was smooth and hilarious. he is 19, maybe 95lbs and lives in mississauga. probably with his parents still and yet here he is all up on me. hawaii was like he shoulda just left after frenching casie that would have been the best thing but then he got greedy and tried to take me too. i think i am at the point in my career when little children think i am really really cool, i am like, an idol now.

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my slasher pants i am embarrassed by. what were you thinking mom? courtney is still uncomfortable. arms crossed. tsk tsk.

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backlit 1970s precious moments hairdo. bet you didn’t see that coming. what’s next? WHO KNOWS! lets spin the bottle and peer into the crystal ball.

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what kind of stance is that? a good one. this person is confident and ready to take on challenges.

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see how my little doll is trying to copy melodie and i. still. i am used to people jacking my style all the time so whatever. when you hear people say whatevs don’t you kind of want to punch them?

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hand porn. nsfw. just kidding.

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would you like me if i had three fingers?

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i can’t wait to get my minx nails did. we’re collaborating. i am stoked. they might design a raymi decal.

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guess who has beautiful hands?

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adventurebathroom. our next advhaus party is march 4. if you miss it you are dead to us.

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we have a fan that will not ever go off when you’re in there it drives me crazy but also the hum of white noise is good for thinking i come up with great ideas in here but then i don’t remember any of them.

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my arms are getting fit. that’s my ear piercing cleaner solution. how long do i have to do that for?

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i decided to get some real life to-dos done.

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i got resourceful with my golden christmas flower decorations. next i will make a tiara painting and douse it in silver sparkles. it will be fabulous and fagulous.

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my favourite gilded leaf is now bare and plastic i have to throw it out. there are sparkles all over the floor.

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and my pants. i wonder if they’re toxic or maybe it’s just me. dollarama toxicity. it’s so much sparklier in real life i love it i am staring at it right now. maybe i’ll add more sparkles?

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someone said i need a boob job in my comments. why? like you are ever gonna fuckin touch them guy. another person asked why i’m not 118 pounds anymore. why can’t people ask me more interesting questions? we stayed up til five in the morning and i am a disaster right now but i still made it to my gym and snapped off a good session and i wore so much makeup last night when i awoke this morning i looked like a game show pageant hostess total party statue. i looked amazing is what i am telling you. felt like hell though and james was like wow raymi you look great i’m like what really i can barely make my eyes function right now. look at the sleeping brock. i brock blocked him like crazy only because i am competitive. casie was like go fuck anybody you want tonight baby and in my head i was like yeah fuck’n right i’ma check bitches all over the place whoever bought him can have him another time i am pissing all over this just for the hell of it. he’s twenty. maybe even younger. this is a trophy snapshot of one of my kills. haha kidding i left him there and shawn drove me home. shawn bought me last night. i think my friend scared off other bidders no one wanted to bid war him he was overzealous because he really wants to bang me and hasn’t and we keep hanging and not banging and it’s slowly driving him insane. i put him in the friend section. i am terrible like that. anyway i had a phone in bidder for $100 then it went up to $200 and i was too shy to drag it out more (unlike some mega egotists up there) so i demurely said i was fine with that to the host (who was that guy?) and got off stage.

ok be right back i just wanted to punch my time card here with a mini hello while my judgment is poor to nil, like always.

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brock is lucky he didn’t wake up like this. though if he looked anything remotely like this he would also be waking up without any pants on and there wouldn’t be time to draw that shirt on. i took this photo last night downstairs by the bathrooms, how prophetic am i? i am trying to convince one of my dodgeball teammate’s to do this tomorrow. our team theme is the chilean miners. i don’t know what to wear and you people are all useless. and selfish and not offering up suggestions. that’s two charity gigs for me in a week, i’m like, so generous right now.

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Hi ;

Regards …

am i a bitch? yes totally. but what that has to do with my nudity and 52000 photos i don’t know. why do i put naked photos on the net? because i am body obsessed and i derive too much of my self worth from my image and seek validation through showing my body’s progress. why question it really even though? how about a big bowl of who cares?

ohh god .. u reply so fast …

ok i will be nice to you now.

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and now comment of the day (that was the weird english as a second language email of the day)(ugh i have a headache from lack of sleep) goes to my lady rhonda who gave up her entire beloved comedy life in toronto for her love in ireland. i miss her and don’t believe for one second she’s fat.

I love hot sauce!! I remember when we snacked on nothing but veggies in hot sauce and it was divine. Not much hot sauce here in Ireland (people here think tabasco is hot sauce and that is such a lie, worse than statistics it is!) and people here hate vegetables, so now I can’t wear cute clothes anymore because I have been replacing the non-existent vegetables with mayonnaise (which I hate and also is everywhere). Love your clothes though. Looking forward to the post where you wear the matching dress/top and rose bag, you’ll look like a classic movie star, not unlike Marilyn Monroe, but way more alternative. Like, the cult Marilyn that all the regular people aren’t cool enough to have heard of. Every time I try and post something, the internet cuts out…so quickly…you are looking gorgeous as ever and you seem so happy. I’m glad because you have an amazing life; don’t stop doing what you’re doing. If you’re ever in Europe, come and visit because now I live in a cute house in the sticks with 2 extra bedrooms (one I might turn entirely into a closet, but only until I can fit into clothes again) and an extra living room, so there’s plenty of space. Nothing like Parkdale though. Noooothing like it.

x rhonda

now i have to fold all my laundry instead of using it as a base for jerkoff mountain haha. melodie just came home and is nicely folding it. i just said if she folds all my laundry she doesn’t have to come tonight.

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it’s bigger in real life. this is going to take me hours to do. then i will read in the bath and nervously obsess over tonight 8PM AT THE HIDEOUT. bring a lot of money.

Dear Raymi,

Brandon

Yes it’s true. Don’t let prose make you go squirly. Live in the real world as often as you can and don’t drink yourself away like jack. Write as much as you like though, don’t get compulsive about it. Sounds like you are a bit. I am too, naturally. Anyway hey.

Dear Raymi,

B.

i feel super pretentious talking about my relation. i get nasty emails and comments on the regular about it, accusing me of not actually being related. it’s rather annoying. yes i am older than you. you can like anything as much as you want in life but if it gets to a point where it’s not going anywhere monetarily, time to move on. keep it as a hobby, i dunno. i stayed up pretty late last night so i don’t really know what to say at this juncture. i just know it’s hard to finish books because of modern day technology, i compulsively write and release daily and i definitely drink too much.

i also think all this social media madness is going to end in amazing flames. i know people take it seriously but really, it should be called smoke and mirrors week. it’s important to big companies to please them about what this such and such internet star is up to but really the people we should be caring about pleasing is the little people, the real people, the people who read those fucking blogs everyday and maybe have a discussion about why we read these blogs everyday or care.

it looks like this:

big company + free hamburger + social media stooge = nobody cares

do you honestly care about someone’s useless noise on twitter all day long? who is actually being influential here? nobody. james gave me great advice yesterday, never believe your own hype. he asked me if i believed mine and i said yes but humble me said no. yeah it’s great having my hair did and blowing money on outfits i won’t care about in a month but we know there is substance here. i puncture those advertorial posts (that i do in my own raymi flare, staying true to my racy edgy nature) with lots of self-indulgent blogging. i keep it true. i am only trying hard to please myself here and i think that shows. i maintain meaningful relationships with virtual strangers via email for years, i get no monetary value out of that, i do it because i honestly care about such and such loner weirdo writing me during a panic attack from neptune. THAT is how i made myself. i built a following based on merit and exposing my journey, not on free perfume samples and gum marketed to 20 year old retards with no money. i don’t care how many people i offend, i offend many people daily and that takes bravery. i know i piss off everybody. suck it up kids. if you’re so fly, then prove it, own it. the same circle jerk spotlight presently on social media is the exact same attention blogging received in its first wake of popularity, then it fizzled and the majority packed it in cos they realized it took actual time and work to blog. you guys weren’t around for that. the frenzy of twitter ladder climbing is a bit desperate and it’s pissing people off because we are tired of pretending to care and i am tired of talking shit about it and hearing shit about it i would rather be discussing more important things like how nice i might look in a tennis outfit in the countryside.

people make fun of twitter people lots. yep. tons. oh you’re at taco bell right now this is amazing news thank you for sharing. many articles have been written about twitter dismantling it. yet if you stand out from the pack there’s this genuine fear of being unfollowed. it’s a stab in the heart to be unfollowed, are there apps that you find out right away if that happens? does the world stop?

anyway i am just totally being smug from my high horse because it’s not necessary for me as an artist to play along with any of these people, though somewhat is, yet cos i come from the cool kid set i can yank on their pigtails and make fun of them. which i do and will only continue to do more so in the future even if they get golden cadillac escalades i’ll still be here, laughing at them. like the fat girl who gets hot and confronts the bully on jenny jones and he’s now a disgusting troll, she, a perfect ten. she wants vindication and he says to her something like because of me you became hot or you’re still a nerd. you may get fancy nice things but those things don’t pay bills and this queen bee doesn’t do shit fo’ free. dragging your ass around to nerd events where they get you trashed and you end up a used-up party face.

ten years guy.

ok wait this is the part where i cancel everything out i said with a winky emoticon face.

forgive me. i’ve been up all night talking courtney’s face off (who doesnt like to be touched so i squeezed her and hugged her as many times possible to make her uncomfortable) the eve of a charity date auction where i need to look as spring chicken as possible and i wrote a beautiful self-absorbed speech manifesto about why i am the best person to bid on. i have the longest q&a response because i took the time to do it, no one else put that much effort into it, half the contestants (haha contestants? this is a game show now?) didn’t even bother, they’re too busy tweeting about how awesome they are i guess. the point is, do you want to go on a date with me or not? i am a professional dater. i know where to go, what to eat, how to dress, how to be. i am smooth. please come and watch the whole trainwreck unfold tonight and bring your wallet.

the title of this post is something malcolm said to me last night about how i was at mitzi’s last week and did i notice the big hair of this famous chick sitting across the bar from me. i said no i didn’t even notice her at all and he’s like how could you not? i said i dunno, i only look at girls i feel threatened by. sorry but if you don’t bring it you just fade into the background for me. there are many wallflower types out there and you meet them and then you have no recollection of it and then it hurts their feelings. i’m sorry but i have TEN YEARS of emails, random chats, and events to remember, how dare you make me feel bad not remembering who you are wearing that boring bland sweater like that. get me? i also can’t see very well at night in dark bars. anyway, if you catch me looking at you it’s cos you’re hot. or, you stared at me first cos you think i am hot and then therefore become interesting to me because you noticed the shiny thing in the room, this also makes you smart, not necessarily hot though. by the way, hot people are smarter than ugly people. just going to throw that out there. maintaining beauty is a skill, it’s a usable business resource, ace in the sleeve. you are an idiot if you think looks don’t mean anything and that we’re all pretty on the inside. fuck that, tell your kids right now to start giving a shit about appearance otherwise you’re going to have to deal with inferiority complexes forever.

wow this post just keeps on going eh.

what else.

oh right this is how i am related to jack kerouac i made a family tree for malcolm because he was blowing his load about it and by the way look at how i write (not penmanship, prose) it’s a retarded mess just like kerouac. i don’t keep bringing it up, people bring it up to me! when you get mega pageviews daily one of those readers is gonna send you nerdmail so please give me a break and leave me alone about it (the kerouac thing, it’s called relevance). how sad is it that the way people deal with life is anonymously harassing others on the internet? brilliant.

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i forgot to draw the line from my papa (grandpa) to jack.

and this is an example of what my texts look like right now thanks to my e button.

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time to make coffee two. i love starbucks instant coffee packets. i want to be sponsored by starbucks. i can’t believe i am turning into a stepford wife lunatic who drinks starbucks maybe next i’ll get a little dog and die of hypocrisy.

smoke ‘n mirrors right?

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my aunt knows this guy.

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picture sitting here hours, going through coffees and joints and loving it. weekly. my brother came by to visit and at some point attempted to startle me and i was such a cave of a person i barely even flinched. it was hysterical. like the old lady having a mega mega delayed reaction to gary oldman shooting a bullet into the glass window behind her head in the professional.

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orange peel carnage in the form of a heart.

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severity triumphs.

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actually a good heat. burnt me into shut upsville for a bit there.

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now, couldya find a more perfectly matched hue if you tried? what are the odds? also i totally hated the taste of grapefruit for many (MANY) years and i’m sure if you googled raymi and grapefruit you could easily come up with many a quote by your hero comparing the taste of grapefruit to that of tart urine. close second similar in tasting, pineapple. not that i drink pee or anything.

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one more. magnificent. go me. irl the colour isn’t supposed to be this matched. my polish is called sorbet. which is orange, not pink related. my woody allen neurosi are showing.

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loooooove that ring girl!

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i am going to look extremely tall tomorrow. bachelorettes you’ve been warned.

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my new purse. and shirt. which was a dress on rose. baby did well today.

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new little skirt. troop bev hills.

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new belt.

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threw this shirt in my get rid of it box after this picture. it’s by aa, has dumb shit all over it (which you thankfully can’t see). mom gave it to me. she likes tacky glitzy stuff like she lives on rodeo drive or something.

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welcome to the courtney love vortex. it cannot be stopped. not until my hair gets longer.

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my mom pointed out that she has big features. big lips. big nose. big eyes. check check check.

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so basically for the next little while i am fucked. i’ve got more photos looking even more like her but i am tired of looking at myself and i’m bored and want to go out and play now.

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my little doll is copying mel and i.

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this little snack i made just blew my head off. scotch bonnet, suicide psycho xxx hot sauce from ali’s roti (ask darius, it’s intense) and scaled down with kozlick’s xxx hot mustard. then a pinch of balsamic. do i have a problem? yes, several. nothing hot sauce can’t cure. anything that blasts me out of reality is a-ok.