Someone said I look 40 yesterday. One of my obsessive biggest fans of course otherwise known as a hater. So, I can take it, lay it on me, how old do I look? Also might I add, how relevant is that really? Do my chances of “making it” end when I turn 30? Do you know Kim Kardashian is over 30? My mother was on Creeps for Christ sakes. Ps. look at my body, is that the body of a 40 year old? I am french, I have dark circles beneath my eyes, it is my heritage. I’m going to keep at it to spite you, the older and older I get the more I will still be there so you need to ask yourself how long you are going to punish yourself hating on me for. What if I get more famous! That will so suck for you won’t it!
It’s only older than me shitheads or bitches my own age who say I look older anyway so who cares. Young chicks are shocked when they learn my age and definitely 50% of that is attributed to how I act, young spirited and fancy free so you remember that ya old windbags acting all stiff and crabby and frowning all the time, you are projecting OLD. I am not, nor will I ever and my body will always look young for as long as I can manage. Thank you Demi Moore.
Nice pants Courtney. Traveling Raymi pants.
Too many corn flakes teach said. Shut up hater I liked it!
Don’t base your judges on the last few days pictures either because I said so.
Except here in which I look like a retarded baby.
Classy sassy hostess Courtney strikes again.
Love your friends.
She’s got the look of bourbon in her eyes. No wait I did. No wait, she did.
First of all you may be thinking, “They don’t Raymi!” Not true at all. They think, or, you think they don’t or people think that they don’t but they do, the end. You’re welcome for clearing that up now we can move on to the rest of this “thinking piece”.
I texted to myself this important question (that I didn’t write the answer to) last night amidst a conversation starring how everyone else is full of shit and I’m not.
But why do you think people give a shit about me?Blog question to ask them then answer for them. Yes this is how it is done in the big leagues. Those entire first two typo-free sentences verbatim is what I sent myself. Merkley sends himself drunk texts all the time as note to selfs, all the smartest cynics I know do that.
What I meant by that was at the end of the day people are actually coming to my blog, still, after all these years, but why? And all of my peers, why do I have a higher ranked blog than they do despite all their wheel spinning and twitter farming (cheating) and what have you, I still kill their internet-positioning and have for oodles of time and I’m not saying that to rub it in their noses at all it’s just a fact that supports my argument, the argument that people do give a shit about my life and even I scratch my head about that as my anxiety mounts every time I turn on my computer and see how many people there are out there on the webs showcasing their lives in their own creative ways on tumblr twitter blogs and that number seems to grow daily and then I start to panic. This blogging stress eats at me more than anything, more than “the haters” or “the competition”, it’s a daily dose of drama. Needed a d-word. It’s toxic for sure but, because I am the way that I am (I told my mother on the drive back from Niagara) is why I am the best, figuratively speaking. It’s shitty and I know it that I am going to feel like shit every day until I die. Sometimes I feel like I am drowning in my blog and all this pressure to excel or getting to the next level makes me want to vom.
Last night my friend was going on and on about, I don’t even want to say “the scene”, because it was more than that but as we were all giving our two cents and opinions, gossip, every minute or so I go OKAY ENOUGH because it’s so stressful for me but then we fall back in to it and it just goes that way again and then I am like no seriously I mean it we can’t talk about this any more. It makes me say retarded and boastful things and text myself stupid things like But why do you think people give a shit about me? at 12:05am.
With the change of seasons I always seem to fall in to a bit of a funk. I think everyone is suffering equally, stressed out, unhappy, poor, or other. But then I walk around my neighbourhood and see all these yuppies and I think about living the dream and of course I compare myself to every one I pass and I think if I went back in time and never blogged and became an office drone frowning in flats would I like that life much more instead? I’d have more money and eventually a baby and we’d all be frowning un-originally unhappily together forever. I don’t think I am the only girl who thinks this way, right? It’s normal right? I’m sorry to break it to you but your hero is a real person, le gasp!
I totally forgot what I was about to say, for the past hour I puttered around the internet, had more coffee, sat in the sun, fucked around with Stella, colleague came by, gossiped about a craymail I got last night from an old friend, other crap. Mostly twitter, that is a time sucker indeed. So is the view out of this window and I lied earlier when I said I sat out in the sun I don’t know why I did that I wanted to look more productive. I’m as pale as a ghost I need to get out there and will. I think you can get sun even if it’s 3pm? Though by one is most desirable typically and when the sun is hottest. I wonder if it’s still cold in Vancouver.
Anyway, sometimes I want to blow up my blog. It’s a safety net for sure and I can’t tell if its been holding me back my entire adult life or not. I know I need a fire lit under my ass that’s for sure, I am lazy or I am crazy, or a bit of both. How many geniuses do you know who piss away their lives and talent? Oh there are tons. It’s ok I am fine I think this is just a classic late twenties life crisis. It’s funny the little things that actually help me get through all of this, nice things I remember that are said to me as motivation. At the 90’s reunion party everyone was so proud of me I was really bowled over by it and some of the things I heard really meant a lot holy gayballs! Ok anyway Adrian said that at 30 he thinks that’s when everything is going to take off or change I can’t remember exactly what he said everyone was shitskrieged it was a good cray old time but just in saying that one little thing I almost felt set free it was incredible I bet he is reading this too hi dude, now I am embarrassed.
As we age we beat ourselves up too much, way too much. I know that I am going to get an agist attack every fucking day for forever now and I do, I actually do and it’s stupid because I still look pretty fucking good I will admit that now and I will dog all of you in the process to prove my point because that is one of my life duties: proving points it is stupid but that is what we call “blogging” and everybody does it.
I am not going to apologize for being this, for sharing my life in a manipulative fashion and duping you in to thinking that I am more awesome than awesome. I have tried for 11 years to prove “I am awesome” and it doesn’t mean you can’t be awesome too or my awesome over-shadows yours because this blog has nothing to do with you I just like to type a lot I started very young and I always wrote and read. In the beginning there was only ever blogging. I think I liked the good old days when no one was around, there weren’t comments, people had to email you what they thought and I was really good at pissing people off and getting lots of hate mail, but I got more love mail way more and I definitely still do. Things like “trolls” exist now, the internet has something for everyone and you can be internet famous in so many capacities everybody is doing it and that is awesome to make money solely based on your creativity and independently at that. You are an ignoramus if you haven’t made money off the internet in some shape or form, that’s just my extremely biased, made from scratch original gangster opinion of course. *dusts shoulders off*. Hey man we’re just all trying to make our way here right.
So in summation of this confusing wtf post, why do people like me? Maybe because I give them hope or show that “you can do it” maybe they can learn to like themselves like I pretend to like myself everyday for my blog and for you. It’s never been for blog really, it’s always for people. It’s a popularity contest a little bit but I’m the good guy. I do like you, we email, you mail me care packages, I built my brand off of all my Little Raymi pen pals. You guys have actually helped my career, by me being relatively likeable and feeding off other people’s emotions and thinking their adorablah Raymi pet cares (and she does!) is the fuel that keeps raymitheminx.com a chugging. You are my community, my network, my influencers and looking glass. So thank you guys for sticking by me and around and being my friends you are wicked and I too have enjoyed watching your lives back, watching you grow, get hotter, get married and make babies. I’m flattered when you reach out to me, for advice and consoling. FOR YEARS AND YEARS O_o!
I said to Teacher yesterday that if this is as good as it gets then it’s pretty good.
Until the next big catastrophe.
But I said “goddamn good” in case I didn’t seem grateful enough or the mood didn’t adequately translate.
Enough of this though lets have a good old fashion Craymi picture post until I run out of steam. I just sent myself a bunch of pictures. Or maybe I should make that a separate post. Okay I will. Thanks guys and always remember to blog it like you’re hot.
My friend screetus shoots for the derby league and so of course I struck a pose or two for him. Raymi Town is a ghost town today guys sorry I am sick as a dog, I haven’t been sick in a long time much less as sick as this. Not fun.
31 ways to die is being put on hold for a few days jajajaja. There’s a lot more stuff to blob as always but this should do for now, from my crapp-ay phone. Ps. here is the facebook event for the Junko Mizuno burlesque/art event I am dancing in. Will be fun fun and yay cray. That is why my party dare death wish is being put on pause, also because I am coming down with something and maybe dying, I felt it wash over me yesterday as we were heading to the canlit thing in the cold wind of course dressed as a stupid shivering girl and no hat or mitts. Time for more eating.
How’s about that wind, Toronto? Once I struck that pose urryone started doing it. One guy in a beamer crawled slowly through the light cellphone pic’ing it I thought it was hysterical. The driver was fine, we thumbs upped each other.
Fun times. Tell you all about it tomorrow.
Lots of funny things and jokes. Slipped on cinnamon, on water, balloon and nerf darts in the face wearing helmets typical harth/bnotions shenans.
Everyone played with the wings.
Fans were here I spaced on the email, I skim, and barely. It was very fun and interesting and a great idea for a party I was like Jules wait until you get here jajaja.
Matt and I are going to do a shoot together. He is a Matt the minx.
Matt you broke the chain. You should never break the chain. That is when I slipped on water and cinnamon and it was hilar city.
This is the story about how language goes to die. One innocent girl’s night out quickly turns into a bunch of squeaky shrill cackly witch hooting and prehistoric verbage skills giving even cavewomen a bad name. Wait that sounds wrong, I mean we don’t talk good no more. What am I talking about I don’t fucking know read on dudes, secure and happy in the thought that it’s TGIFuckthisshit day!
The theme for my blog and life for the month of March (my birthday month as we all know and ignore) is 31 WAYS TO DIE. My bday is at the tail-end of March, on the thirty-first. I am that close to being an April Fool. My life would be forever changed for it, that, but anyhow I have 31 nights of partying in store and I think by my champagne birthday (I love these invented party justifications)(that’s turning 31 on the 31st btw) all my Minx hi-jinx will be about done. I’ve effectively forecasted and packaged the next three years of my life for prospective reality whatever the hell persons and tv outlets to start mulling over. However, lets get through this month first shall we and see how good I do at my own invented dare. Yes the stupid crap never ends.
And then I will pass the party wand on to Jules while Bechnique and I go off to our moon hut on a hippie cray farm compound and make our own manure from compost (wait that’s not how you do it lol) and make sun-catchers and have scraggily hair and be bitter about my entire fucking life in the form of book. OR we will be in Hollywood Hills with Blowhan, take your pick.
Hey it could happen. Shyea right Wayne and monkies could fly out of my butt. Hey wait a minute if we’ve ever learned anything from tv, in Wayne’s World every one of Wayne’s dreams come true AND happy ending always. Plus they got Farley in WW2. Ha ha Wayne’s War World Two. I just blew my little woman mind o_o. Speaking of SNL allumnai, Bech’s bud Serg knows Norm Mcdonald’s niece and so we talked about SNL for a good twenty minutes. I am like I must meet her. Hi if you are reading this tell your uncle what’s up.
Now where was I, oh yes. I introduced the Yay Cray Society to the by the way game. No one was at all drunk at this point so it wasn’t funny at all but then that first drink on an empty (waiting to eat tacos) stomach started happening and we applied BY THE WAY after every single sentence and it was funny. Sprinkle lightly throughout the night randomly and the more gonged you are the funnier the snort laugh HEE-Haws come out and whatever the fuck anyone was talking about is immediately forgotten and abandoned. Yay Cray is low on attention spans.
I made ten thousand Wicker Man jokes about us. Those stupid girls had no idea what that meant. Oh my god I am so glad it’s not witch burning times, this guy right here I like to call me? So burned like years ago. (ps yay cray club your yay cray homework is reading my wicker man blog post and we will have to watch the orig together because I haven’t seen it and we will need a big bag of old man popcorn too).
This is why I need plastic surgery her name is Jules, I am hanging out with a 20 year old. We only let her drink water and eat candy. True say. Before anyone starts ripping on me for corrupting this protege, you cannot corrupt the corrupted. Oh snap. I mean, we are protective of her that is all she can fuck up all she likes (no she can’t!!!) I also hung out with older chicks my entire life and now I am the age of the chicks who liked to tear it up and the dudes I blasted/dated, it’s strange but nice and now I “get it”. We tell her not to be us every four seconds and she’s like noo whyyyyyy lol.
You look like a baby adorablah giraffe thank you for that.
And here is when sexy died. I asked one of the waitor guys to take this picture of our Yay Cray society official handshake. Picture it with more girls SO Wicker man. I am going to get us all to do it tonight obvis and then all guys will be scared and know not to fuck with us ever. FUN!
Yay Crays eat a lot of tacos. We abstain to better harness our yay cray powers so no pink ones yet, only once it’s the solstice hey guys do you think I can earn witchcraft klout points? Yay Crays talk about funny things like pink raisins. Think about it. Lol.
Yay Cray came to me in a Penny Packer induced lucid waking dream, maybe a taco arrived? I expressed the two most beautiful words in english history yay cray and the rest is history. No seriously I am not saying yay cray ever again after this fucking day for at least a week and then only in secret, to my yay crays.
Our friends in the underground send us secret messages like this druid candle, what it’s no coincidence that it was on our table and that there is a big curtain cloak when you walk in there? Oh and look at the red light on my hand, I am a wizard. Is that an Exit sign? BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN. Probably a reflection from the candle/light flash OR, wait for it, contact from Zul?
Pictures galore. Photo cred big-ups to my girl Bech who takes care of all of that. I drove life documenting second nature obsession home so hard my best friend toilet paper does it for me. This is like Andy and Edie now haha you are a skinny artist Rebecca and I get to be the trainwreck muse.
And payment is fifty pictures of her and Jules doing facebook selfies on my blog. Whatever man they’re good for business, guys are fan-girling the Yay Crays like Cray. Jules got tons of friends in the night they’re all jocking her hard. Oh, wait a minute here comes another movie analogy (metaphor? what?) I am Regina Gorge and Jules is Kaddy, Kady? and maybe if we are lucky some day down the road I can scream in to the night I invented you. Ha nah, mean girls don’t win so f- that s-.
We were waiting for one more photo (a flattering one for once jeez cray get it together) and she was ignoring us so then we were like WAHH won’t do it in baby mocky voice and this is the photo of it thanks.
Jules thing is “weird shoes” girl. Get a parrot next and wear it on your shoulder, then a fancy hat. Then walk around Parkdale for a little bit. Yay cray Hazing is never over. It’s like a gang. There is no getting out either except for the witness protection program because once you’ve been blogged your entire life is ruined anyway right.
Longboarding accident so I wore a tensor bandage. Kidding it just looks like that.
Get your Yay Cray on quick seats are filling up fast. There is no shortage of cray girls in the city.
Best friend TP needs a mirror flash photography intervention. You will never make that happen ok, it will never work out for you, I love you and that is why I am telling you to never take a picture in the mirror again with the flash on there is no Yay Cray in history who has ever been successful in this endeavour no matter how much Witch craft they source from watching Nicolas cage get burned alive inside the wicker man *spoiler*. Thanks be to Cray + a Yay Cray handshake. There there.
There you go now (said in Stella baby voice) good girl aaand it’s too dark in here lets go to the lcbo Yay Cray allons-y. (unrelated, how much faking of knowing how to speak french would it take to get hired as a flight attendant, I wonder).
I brought my own tupperware to Grand Electric but then I forgot to order some to go and I wanted to keep it there (seriously I will be back next week to eat more) but our waitress did not take me seriously (who does?) and so I walked it to Yay Cray palisades and left it there after threatening that I would get this tupperware home safe and sound. I failed. That was a Nay Cray. Lulz.
They wore normal outfits and matching druid-like adult jackets. I dressed like Jimminy Cricket. Well, guess who is the founding father of Yay Cray society (aka Club Yay Cray) after all, ah-duh. I think we should have Zissou Society style rings for the Little Raymis all over the world and we will individually type our adorablah Yay Cray member letters on type writer now who wouldn’t want that in the mail? You are stupid and go back to bed if the answer to that is no.
Yay Cray commentary on the above photo that I can remember: making fun of my scarf like I just left an Italian restaurant ayyyy! Jules hair and face obscured by my tups got the most laughs. My stupid thigh highs. Jules is too close to the curb, we yanked her from near the edge of the street a couple times and yelled HEY I CARE ABOUT YOU! At the same time. Barrel of non-stop laughs.
Oh wait, now one for the older ladies yeah guy!
Hi!
We watched (tried) to watch Jersey Shore. Will have to re-watch again tonight before going out. Again. Zzzz.
HAah these are the worst pictures. Blog it!
Here we go now that is more like it. It’s a catch 22 to get a Yay Cray salute going because of all the yay cray in the room GUYS no this way, or Rebecca is ALWAYS holding something in one of her stupid hands and she delays a yay cray NEVER delay a Yay Cray EVER. It’s ok this post is a rule guide meant for learning. If you have to drop a glass full of water and shatter it for a Yay Cray DO IT. Okay you can put it down first but make it speedy or perform the Yay Cray with said object in hand too.
I need to go drink some gingerale all this trying so hard is making me thirsty. Thank god it’s over. Yay Cray meeting adjourned.
Here is a question (I want it to be answered free of age bias and not turn in to a haha fuck you raymi get a job and grow up answer) okay here it is: How do you effectively get rid of party guilt? Like, any kind of drug and booze concoction party guilt, maybe you talked some shit or inversely learned some shit talked about you and now it’s the next day and you’re drinking a bowl of hot coffee soup and you feel like apologizing to everyone? Or your boyfriend? What do you do other than world’s biggest doobie? This started out jokey and got retarded sorry but I kind of had a jokey vision for it anyway. Like Ho-hum deet deet dee Raymi no problem! All ya gotta do is dance a jig in your livingroom or something stupid so you can just talk about simple bloggy things but now I am sorry I even asked.
Love you bye.
ps. I was actually going to send this in to a hipster blog magazine instead but knew I would just be made fun of so may as well keep it all here in the winner’s circle. Brb with some Yay Cray.
pps.
I am becoming a member in the hopes that, oh I dunno, maybe get the cosmos rolling and in the event that I somehow have the dough for the other half of a secret sexy procedure. Maybe my mom can do it first as guinea pig. Yes plastic surgery “is gross” and unnecessary but I am pretty sure every single celebrity you love has had something done and am I a celebrity? Not with this fucking face no. I am taking matters in to my own hands now or the surgeon’s. Ok shut up whatever it’s just a fantasy blog okay girls in the next post we are riding unicorns together. Thanks be to cray, amen.
