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kiss your own ass competitions

Hi friends. Where to begin. Maybe in the middle. What is blogging? Fuck I feel so far removed from the whole damn thing but ever so addicted still, I think it’s fine to give it a rest every so often and self-reflect and by self-reflect I mean party your fucking brains out in the tropics for a couple weeks. I’m writing about it for Playboy Energy CA, actually, and should be doing that right now (bad bad Raymi Bunny girl) BUT I am super depressed about being home so I need to barf up some thoughts here first before accepting reality that I am home in the cold and the boring. No offense but I hated who I was before I left. My brain feels like it went through an electric cleansing screen. Cutting myself off from the toxicity of hyper-connected North America was the best thing ever. Falling in love, too. I mean I didn’t want to but it happened. I fought it. I fight off love and feelings because that shit is cray intense and scary and I’ve left a slew of it before in my wake and I’ve become hardened and independent. I think I gave up looking, quietly confident it will come to me on its own again I am damn done searching, I lazy bitch!

I’ll save the details for another time I’ll just say that I initiated none of this! AHha. It’s like a Tropic of Cancer biopic of insanity actually, to travel all the way to a tiny island and meet someone who has done the same from another side of the world who is like totally the exact same person as you, fate maybe? You don’t see it at first, then you fall in a hole in the ocean and he blows the rest of his travel plans to stay with you. Unbelievable.

Chemistry. The chemical reaction one feels in their body. The knowing. At first it’s a game maybe, fun. Then the green light. We went sight seeing together when it happened and I was like okay well I guess now I will have to have sex with him seeing as I blew his last night in Aruba. I was actually running from him in the ocean after a sick solid five minutes of a sand fight as dinner guests on the beach watched us and the sunset. Compatible shit like that.

Wanting to forget the world together and take it on. Writing lovey babble such as this, freaking out about it, being terrified, knowing you don’t live forever and only once. Minxing each other copmpletely. What is this? he asked. What is what? This. This us. What is this, us? I don’t know, it’s something? We speak in rhymes and riddle because there is a language barrier, it makes things eloquent, bizarre and insane. I love it. I always said I hated accents, the euro-y ones but maybe that’s because I had a thing for them because they scare me, beguile me. Foreignness. I din’t like foreign things, or I do. Am I secretly racist?

Also who stays? Who does that? And for me? What? Why? Alright I’ll stop blathering about that for now and do the real deal travel caption/synopsis report. Those aren’t underwear they’re hiked-up control bathing suit bottoms and that’s my dirtiest sock in the world how, loveable? We sang that it was the dirties sock in the world a la Rihanna, of course. We drove in to a gated community to sight see. We hustled everyone we met. He speaks the language, he speaks four actually, and I’m a half naked white chick so we did whatever we wanted. Lethal combo. People fall in love with crazy people, people who don’t care or try.

This was the gangsterest house in the naybe.

My birthday was delayed by injury, we celebrated it days and days later. Mom’s dress looked like mine.

The last hotel on the right with the green part is the Westin where I stayed last July.

Flinstoner abode behind me was our villa. We moved there from the coconut inn (s-hole) (but we dug it) I can’t remember when. This pool was private for us until our last morning (boo) and we had a great time getting wasted and tanning by it pretty much naked the entire time. You get comfortable in your skin real quick in that heat. I lost 10 pounds. I was bummed I couldn’t run on the beach like I had planned to but all the hopping around I did before I could drag limp my left foot around got me in shape too, up and down stairs, so exhausting. I banged it a lot too and I’m sure drinking on it didn’t help the swelling but I was on vacation so, whatevs.

I miss so much and I hate being back but “I will deal” people who say they don’t mind being back are liars.


My tanning was put back too thanks to staying in and I didn’t go out to any night clubs or after hours or any of that bad girl which is fine I suppose. The night we met (before injury) we were at the same night club but didn’t meet there. More on that later. I was so upset about the injury in the beginning but then it brought us closer together and maybe he would have left if it didn’t happen, I insist minx magic would have happened on its own regardless of it but he disagrees. We’ll never know but now I know that playing the “what if” game in life is futile and only time will tell.

If I had landed the gig for the audition I had before I left I would never have gone to Aruba due to the schedule conflict. It was for a rat rod show to boot. Filming in Vegas.

Life is full of surprises.

One of the songs that was on the radio all the time. Lots of Rihanna too.

We should have drank at the bar.

On way to Baby Beach we chased a firetruck to this fire. Not the typical tourist experience this trip, very me.

The shooting we overheard was done by a small gun, three pops, and they caught the guy. Rattled us a bit at our ghett-hole accomodation so we hustled a free night and that’s why we changed places, my injury made me more alert. When you can’t run away from danger it puts things in perspective, like should I learn how to box while sitting down? The time spent sitting in the car before hopping up all those stairs and there’s no back wall to the compound where the shooting happened? Yeah, you better get your ass in the room quick. These stories don’t get reported in the come to Aruba tourist papes but we found a tabloid for locals also scanned twitter. Always hit up twitter.

It’s so hot there I marveled that there weren’t more fires.

Drinking Balashi while driving around doesn’t exactly mix astutely well with the Polis so we didn’t stick around for too long. #OhRaymi.

On our last day we had empanadas again, loved them. Fresh made by a Colombian woman, totally looked like the epitome of someone who has been making empanadas their entire life. We wanted to recreate the en route to baby beach experience we had the week before, when I was still hopping. He figured out the island in less than a day it was pretty easy to tool around and impossible to get lost with someone like that. A total crazy man.

Beef. They give you a cup of garlic sauce and hot pica too I’d come back more of a rake if I didn’t eat these but whatever, when in Aruba. I’m cool with my body now. Someone else being cool about it also helps.

Hurt the other side of my ankle on the same injured foot climbing and posing on this #idiot. Worth it.

This kid ruled.

A dude at BK when I went for a piss thought I was actually a lifeguard at the Y from around the corner, whoops! I had lifeguard shorts on too. Three girls behind the cash stared at me like I was a hallucination. I learned how unique I truly am in Aruba that’s why I like it.

Yes I am a lifeguard who is wasted and injured I couldn’t even save a breath.

Overwhelmed by all my photos. On his camera we took over 4500. My phone is almost maxed out of space itself. Took plenty of videos too. And then there’s Tray Cray’s. Jesus.

This part of the island looks like Mars aka AWESOME. The oil refinery really sets it off. The jail is there too.

Last night’s dinner our favourite meat buffet Texas de Brazil. They remembered me/us and were happy to see I could walk, very amazing place. We ate a lot of meat and were zombies for the rest of the night. Why are there so many delicious animals to eat! In denial it was our last night together, we kicked the elephant in the face all week long what happens when we wake up.

Love sick is the worst. It’s the best diet though. They said next year when we come back we’ll have a baby ahahaha.

Tourist scouting and critiquing here is the best.

Mom noticed how crazy he was first, my kind of cray so she deserves credit for that. We were both obliterated when we met and within minutes he was dipping and kissing me, the chemistry was ballistic. You pretty much never see people again on holiday, I dunno, I gave up on love. I’ll save it for Playboy.

And those girls, boy did they have a time themselves. It was like two separate vacations Lois said often. No one expected this. Always expect the unexpected.

Bahaha total assholes. The very best and fuck the rest.

See I told you it was like a Jamaican flag dress.

Okay gotta go. Later dushis (sweethearts) -Raymi Aruba.

35 thoughts on “kiss your own ass competitions

  1. Ooh la love! Is he French? I wanna hear more. Love living vicariously through your tropical vacation pictures, yay!

  2. Wouldn’t you say he’s a bit of an emotional rebound? Just don’t want you to get hurt, kid. Seems you were real sad about *****.
    Also watch out for those euro’s–they are ditching the EU like crazy and are just looking for a passport.

  3. We broke up 7 months ago bro, over it. You are a hyprocrite with this comment btw, your last one was this when you posted as a “Jessica” (same ip).

    “Raymi, you normally filter your comments for a positive feed/image/everyone love’s you. Why allow Gerard’s message? Just wondering.”

  4. I don’t undertand how that would constitute as being a hypocrite…but I will feed into your paranoia. I am not Jessica, but it is perfectly understandable why we would have the same IP. Ever though it might be my girlfriend, or sister, heck even my mother and we perhaps used the same computer? Ever thought I was on a public computer? Don’t be so paranoid, not everyone is out to get you. Just providing a “comment.”

  5. So happy for you!! Happy and skinnier!! I hate you! haha BTW, just downloaded that song. Filter owes you $.03. I told them you sent me.

  6. This was an awesome post! (I read it through email yesterday) I love the photos (you look hot! I also liked the one from a few days ago where you were freckled by the sun!!!) and it was great to read about your advetures in Aruba. Yay for happiness! <3

  7. Hmm, I’ve seen a rash of hot Serbian men lately, though he doesn’t look Eastern Euro? Polish? And you’re wearing my fave swimwear look of yours- Baywatch Babe. I love that one. Hope your ankle’s getting better. :)

  8. OMG, I checked in with your website ’cause I just had a significant talk with my significant other, and we decided to move to Toronto in the fall. While I’ve resisted moving to Toronto for other cities many times now, moving to Toronto for love makes it all seem worthwhile. Toronto made me think of you and here you coincidentally have this post about falling in love in Aruba; that’s some nice synchronicity. I look forward to seeing where your European connection takes you – and best wishes for your new relationship!

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