pumped like an HJ

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gaahaha this is my watching oprah face, prior to that dr. phil. so depressing. shania twain needed a hook to come out and yank her off, was kinda unimpressed by oprah’s exploitation of that woman’s apparent grief and breakdown. oh well you gotta get back on that publicity saddle somehow right?

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yeesh relax. yesterday was definitely one for the lunatic books.

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was quite stir crazy, vulnerable, pissy, claustrophobic, restless, sick sick sick and now i am coming out of it, the sun is finally shining. i hate that i am so controlled by the weather moodwise what am i a fucking witch? a new age crystal-wielding cosmos aligning weirdo no no i’m not i’m just difficult and stubborn and depression bothers the logical side of me, to me. i think i can outrun depression (ha) like i suggested we outrun mosquitos once in thunder bay, up that mountain amongst the trees when we realized we’d forgotten bug spray. rye considered it momentarily then we all laughed. that is impossible and i definitely do not nor have ever existed in a realm of reality that anybody else lives in. that’s city talk.

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we keeps it fubar.

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stew and i went to the brazenhead so he could see what the fuss is all about. i could go on and on for my love of pubs but no one would care. my soul is suburban, the majority of me is british i think i check off lots of isles over there um, i love cozy and i love drunks and staring at people while they stare at television and i like to stare at menus. i think i am going to start branding myself as the rainman of the foodie world instead of the rachel ray. rachel raymi. anyway. on to the next stupid thing now. i cannot stop thinking of chocolate. you don’t even want to know the food fetishing i’ve been doing. i’m fantasizing about having a feast, building it, LCBO food and drink magazine photography-level decadence. stacked poached eggs on beautiful toasted rye, yolks, yeah, full on obscenely depraved gorging thoughts like the fat daughter on the plane having a nightmare about food in european vacation. except mine isn’t a nightmare at all. anyway my next post will probably be 400 pictures of big macs.

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here we see the muscle definition a bit more. i am going to die in these pants. it’s like wearing spanx as an outfit. perfect for bloated at the drop of a hat person like me. SPANK YOU VERY MUCH. i will probably wear them on friday. come see for yourself.

melodie’s birthday jam!