Every girl has their own manbase.

Ready set go bro!

It’s Raymbotainment time. Happy 4/20 wieners. Have a very productive day today okay.

Hai. Here is our friend James Franco as a cat. He sent me that picture from Hong Kong.

I dressed like a french mime yesterday.

I have big lips. So does Courtney Love. She has huge features all around my mom said a billion years ago during the Nirvana craze, which also rocked our household.

We accidentally matched one another yesterday when I put this on, he was already wearing his but I didn’t notice. Then my hat put it all over the edge.

Oh whatever we can be one of those copying couples sometimes. It’s cute. I’m a nihilist remember.

I really really need a tan though to revive my skin.

In my head I am already living on that cray farm. Remote. Beautifully given up on what other people care, sitting in the sun writing haikus.

I’m being trolled again. The envious come out when shit is or isn’t happening.

It also feels freeing and isolating not knowing my blog traffic for a few days. It feels like going back in time and it has humbled me in such a way that it brings to mind what my goals were in the beginning of all this, being that finding Forrester guy in the window of a house slamming on a keyboard all these crazy thoughts that people would eat up and I would do that until I die. Along the way I might form a cult of people being in to what I am laying down and then the more progressive ones in the fold would come forward and closerly inspect me, document me by other means and then we go from there.

It sounds crazy but it became true. Have I plateau’d? I might have. I might have hit the pause button I might not have. I think times for being thoughtful and reflective are great because they ground you and you might not know it at the time, it might be hell and bleak but when you rise out of it, you learned.

If everyone (or most) claim to hate me and don’t provide reasons for it, ones that count anyway, and they obsessively hate me for long periods of time and daily come to my blog “hating me” it isn’t me who they are hating it is themselves they hate, hating me for what I am or do or how I act and what I say is merely a reflection of your own shit. You can make all the excuses you want but you’re just threatened. Make fun of my age and my face, but it is irrelevant. If my appeal is looks-based and now that chapter has to close because these women think chapters close when they reach a certain age, (how many older than me broads are ruling social media right now? Why am I the ONLY ONE who receives attacks then?) you say there are so many younger women with more to offer doing things right now more attractive than me, well good for them show me where the line for caring is and I will be sure to avoid it.

Do you wish you could see the world through instragram coloured glasses?

We had a great time at dinner yesterday, Watusi is still one of my fav haunts. The Watusi is a dance. I have never googled to see what it actually looks like.

I am noticing that I get checked out way more now, by older men especially. I am not going to lie, I have always been checked out but to speak of it is considered bragging and this is when the claws come out this is shit mean girl shit is made of but as someone who has had periods in their life of feeling ignored, over-looked, not pretty, or looked at, it feels good to get that thumbs-up stare or double take over and over and over again on a walk. I might notice it more because I am a recluse and seldom go out so it’s all action jackson when I hit the streets, too alert and hyper-aware so I remember that when I am getting shit on by trolls who throw abuse rocks at me on my looks cos YOU WRONG BRO. I think it’s better to have your face to the sky anyway than to the smartphone like the internet dependent generation aka pussies.

The thing is I don’t care if you hate me anymore or make fun of me, I am a critic, I have strong bold opinions and I say them and I am relatively attractive and the only goal in life for the internet now-adays it seems is to BE a hater so I may as well embrace it. I may poke fun at our society and culture but I know too that I am a part of it, but I ain’t no follower. It takes balls to say things I do and I do get shit rained back down on me, I at least am more honest about things, about my wants (no needs) for fame because that is all this has ever been about and writing was the way I got to it, living as a piece of art, making life art. Pretty simple.

Thank you for coming along for the ride. In November it will be 12 years. Am I satisfied with my work. Yes I am. Do I pat myself on the back? Not nearly enough. Am I ashamed of anything? No I am not. I am a good person and I am good to people and that is good enough for me.

We got good and drunk. Well I did. One reason why Watusi is my fav spot is the drink menu. My favourite drink is Anita’s attitude adjuster. It works.

You know who else was a great drunk. Jack Kerouac. Don’t talk to me about other bloggers and deals and sponsorships because we are all doing the same racket and some have different needs and desires than others and we are all snowflakes kay bro? Don’t project your jealousy of them on to me.

I will eat my way to the top. Or I will eat myself to death haha.

Good chick pea batch bro.

Flank steak, pomme frites, spinach mmm.

With parm and au jus gravy to die for.

I am so going for a run today. Now. NOW.

BYEEEEEEEEEE!