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you don’t get to know me anymore

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i don’t even know where to begin i feel overwhelmed right now agggh internet here i am positively hysterical it’s been so long. be careful though this post may contain some newdity. i’m trying to hype myself up into composing a letter to playboy and to stop rejecting the person that i am. senor nakedface.

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forgot to add truffles from a leopard print forest. started with princess soap cos i have a particular kind. dove. from the baby department because it smells like baby powder and then i use baby powder on top of that and douse myself in 4 different kinds of perfume. my body rejecs all of this anyway because i am 1. extremly toxic and 2. my natural born with scent is a good one. you know some people smell repulsive? i do not. i think i was born to be a minx sometimes, so many things just so totally align and then it’s like ahha, no brainer obviously my back arches like so and my well, you know…

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we’ll take it from the top. here i am on the train, semi-drunk and my blackberry battery was running low so i had better settle on a plan soon before i stopped existing, still no internet at home no point to rush directly there. this is the last train in to my fair city. i went to not my dog to meet a PBC member with all my luggage and traveling gypsy bullshit, my big steve madden bag knocked over musician when i came in. i later left with him. we had unfinished business to attend to.

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i was still sick and kind of tired but it was early and i dunno, just had to do it. oh right i know why, my latest fling had fizzled and i needed a replacement fix.

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serial daters cannot be rewired.

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so i focused on the fact that i will not let my mojo die or fade. i will never look like this again. i may look better than it actually. fucking right i will with a tan? ballin’. anyway. i’m going to submit to that magazine that i said i would. you know when you’re watching the girls next door then they all of a sudden go topless (in canada at least we show nudity on tv here) and you’re all shocked to see holly’s perfect fake tits? it’s like oh yeah right they’re like creatures of perfection pinging every single playmate stereotype possible, posing 101. anyway i practiced my playboy poses and took some amateur self shots. i think i fit the mold, despite my flatness. i have seen some super flat girls in playboy before and it was shocking but then almost more perverted i was thinking, how is this possible? it gave me confidence to see it.

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actually completely covered here but still pretty raunchy. why should i be ashamed of this, my body? how many girls out there with better bodies than me? tons. they can’t show theirs though like i can cos of whatever vanilla society role they play. natalie portman in (mom what magazine was that?) style? in style? man i’m ignorant anyway she said it was very french to emphasize a feature that one might see as a flaw, her stylist said for her to only ever wear flats despite her short height, he said everyone else would tell her to war heels. being short is her strength. so for me it would be my nose, and being flat chested. how often do i highlight how flat i am, or my huge nose, all angles i always tilt so you can see that they’re adding it as a hill at blue mountain. i have a strong french streak so this makes sense, my provocateur ways and bawdy flat indifference. i was born to be backlit and naked in a parisian window, a funny cigarette betwixt my thumb and forefinger. that is my destination to be encased in that moment, a muse. i must be my greatest lover ever. listening to some weirdos poetry until one day someone impresses me.

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boom came through with a delivery. april was there with my colleague and she said she liked her eggs like she liked her men, over easy and dark. fuckin a-men sista. i think we might have a slumber party this friday me and her to be up and at ‘em for our chemical peels saturday morning and it’s tarek‘s birthday friday night and no you are not invited we’re all full thanks (haha kidding)(NO I AM NOT!) ahh man i can’t wait i need a new circle rotation i am jonesing for these people it’s been awhile. i need to be scolded by tarke to write my book again and to get over the drama and haters and all the other crap i make up in my head and obsess over.

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wore this on my dayte yesterday. i brought my plaid back-up. i bought 4 shirts at mapleview mall on monday. retail therapy. said with zero irony, sheepishness or legally blondisms. my mom put it crystal clear, she is ocd about having filled closets because they never were growing up. one outfit only. i have inherited this for sure i realized yesterday as i was doing laundry, round one and discovered brand new things i JUST bought and was high off of all over again.

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this is a smug little belly shirt. a small from f21 meant to be worn bigger and looser i just can’t deal something so big though these tings fit everyone differently, snowflakes people do not assimilate ever. i know it’ll shrink and turn into my pinky turtleneck, one of my manipulative shirts. that one is manipulative and smug. this one is droopy and sloppy all over the place.

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burn doing better since i have been slathering it with vitamin e.

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starbuck’s is turning to the dark side. i had to tell my barista today how horrible my valentines day was cos she saw me the morning of. she is vegan and PERFECT and tall and hot and ENGAGED and perky and odd and a total beauty queen and i am a skidrat wombat-eyed scary mascara uni-bomber sunglasses post work-out disaster when i see her. she’s like so how was your valentines day and i wince and go ahah yeah i was kind of afraid to tell you. well lets see, i got a death threat (guy barista behind her goes WOWCH!) on the internet and the guy who i was supposed to see emailed me half an hour before he’s supposed to land to tell me he’s not coming, i was nauseous all day getting progressively worse replete with chills, aches, pains (at least i was skinny) went to a singles mixer with my ex who was socially retarded and purposely rude to every single girl he spoke to cos there was no one he liked. i wasn’t attracted to anybody, i didn’t want to tell her or anybody else the rest of the deep shame of that night but it’s safe to say hands down it was the absolute fucking worst valentines day of my life i would have killed myself except a family kin already did that and i am not that cruel. oh yeah i was still reeling from the suicide funeral i attended the day before. lovely!

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so an adorable chapter of the co-dependent singles club got together to set me up with the manager of a restaurant lois has been trying to sandwich me together with for awhile now but i keep meeting assholes getting hung up and off them and then you know, other stupid shit. i went to my mom’s this weekend to be babysat and nursed back to health and mooch the internet. i brought nothing to wear out. i brought my rubber boots like a giant baby and i was a sick sweaty disaster so i told lois monday was off. then i changed my mind but i had to buy an outfit. mom gave me some flats, i bought 4 shirts at f21 and then met lois at the bar. show time.

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mom that shirt does not photograph well on your big jugs. give it to me. lois and i are talking strategy.

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nobody understood my shirt and lois kept trying to get me to wear her red angora sweater. i took it to go. this guy was not that into me and my mom was judging him, vibing him out and i was being super nice flashing my vanna whites a lot and dimples but neither were really feeling it. his world is this bar. negatory. lois i hope you’re not bummed.

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that’s gary across from me. he wasn’t drinking so naturally i made fun of him like crazy. i said he looked like ellen degeneres in that white tennis sweater vest. i like gary. i said i would go make out with the manager and he’s like no you can’t do that with guys cos then they think you do that all the time i’m like, hmmm, interesting.

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i’m eating the blackened chicken. it wasn’t at all spicy. the potatoes it comes with are retarded amazing.

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this is what i ate all weekend long. that bowl is a family relic artifact.

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mmm.

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MMMYUM!

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my plaid shirt. guys are suckers for plaid it’s a little disappointing and thrilling at how easy it is.

this is going to be a two-parter i don’t want my laptop to explode before i get a chance to publish.

next up: guide to dating tips.

29 thoughts on “you don’t get to know me anymore

  1. “i was born to be nakeldy backlit in a parisian window, a funny cigarette betwixt my thumb and forefinger. ” – i somewhat agree.
    i enjoyed this post.

  2. You are right guys are suckers for plaid. Plaid and Knee High Socks are like Kryptonite. At the sight my backbone melts and I become weak in the knees. All rational thought leaves the mind and pure base instinct takes over. Use your power wisely

    Up! Up! and away!
    Rebly

    P.S Doobie date anytime

  3. I keep a full closet because growing up it never was.
    that was me though, not you

    You never had to worry about that so you can’t inherit the same neurosis.

    Why doesn’t this blouse photograph my jugs well?
    Does it not look good or did you just want it?
    Its a sheer esprit and I bought it cause it cinched in a bit a the waist.

    As for Ron, your Jersey Shore date. I admit I was secretly judging him . Only because he wasn’t overly attentive.
    If you shoved the chop sticks up your nose as he walked by, I think he still would of been wondering how good he looked.

    And Aries with an Aries not a good match

    just saying….

  4. out of his league. he lives with his dad in tony creek.

    there’s just something about the print of that shirt that’s drippy.

  5. As always I am in awe of your stream of tied together bits of consciousness fasened together with moments pictured and titled in a way that always seems (in some sublime way)place my mind in your moment. Even though the moment is over by the time I Read your post.

    Oh and you’re fucking hot. :)

    BB

  6. Lois knows how to comment now…Yeah!

    I didn’t want to use his name cause I knew raymi wasn’t going cheerlead him on.
    I don’t really think its about being out of a league, its about having different lives,living far apart, and conflicting egos

    If my blouse looks drippy, why do you want it?

  7. and you know, thank God you ARE proud of your nose/tits. you damn well should be, they’re YOURS, and why should you ever change? I was addicted to GND in 2008 (the constant stream of sparkly outfits had me hooked), but it never made me want fake boobs (fake tan sure). self confidence = sexiest.

  8. kind of a whole nother level, me likey, see something new, serial dater lol more like serial hot, smart chicks just get under my skin thank god: this year is a whole notha …

  9. ok I’ll stop the comment stalking, but please don’t switch the comments to facebook, would hurt -luvx anon

  10. Keep showing off that drop-dead gorgeous body of yours and not for nothing but I preferred the dark hair.

  11. I think after all that hard work at TMR you’ll be great … looking fantastic in and out of the bikini … Raymi the Sunshine Minx …

  12. I think they would go with a Raymi Calender … All RAYMI … ALL THE TIME … it would be pretty awesome … I bet if you had a Raymi Calendar you’d easily sell thousands … you’ve just got to submit those photos to the Sun …

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