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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.

i don’t think you are ready for this, new discovery of mine. i am about to be super rich now because i have figured out how to get rid of hand wrinkles. pour boiling water on it and burn your skin off. voila. (for the morons out there reading this no do not actually do that, thank you, i do the dumb things so you don’t have to).

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it’s like, the tanorexic aunt’s face/entire body in something about mary.

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i don’t think i’ll have a scar or skin difference in colouration/pigment change though with my luck, it’s probably safe to say that i will definitely have exactly all that and then a tree will fall on me. it’s nice how the vanilla tone of the sheets brings out the tan burn, makes it pop. my hand is SO ready for bikini season now. i have been slathering lotion all over it obsessively like eight pints of st. ives. last summer from biking like a maniac all over town my hands became very tanned and leathery. i am going to find the strongest spf lotion there is. i am doing summer right this time. the minx nails set off my hand tan too. sigh.

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butt watch!

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on the mend now. woke up bathed in sweat. i hate sick sweat. i love getting pneumonia from my own sweat, that’s super fun.

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ok that’s all i have for you right now. raymbotumblr will have some action for you periodically (if you can make sense of it, place is ‘tarded over there) if you’re jonesin’ hard.

i just forgot what day it was.

cabin fever!

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rocky needs a haircut. i don’t know what i am looking at anymore. where is up?

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ahh dudes i’m so sick. frowny face. looking at this carpet picture made my allergies sinuses everything act up. so stuffed up. there will be an over-abundance of the word “up” in this post. callin’ foreshadow. stamped it. (actually i was wrong).

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this retarded month of commuting back and forth all over and sitting in drafty coffeeshops has taken its toll on my immune system see, this is how homeless people die. they never get proper rest or shelter, always on the move in their patched-up too big for them coal miner pants and stick with red kerchief full of worldly possessions bindle hahah but you know what i mean, too much hustle and bustle, public spaces, no good for you. i’m just used to being a cave sloth, doing my jobs, then back to my nest. haven’t been able to do that with proper rests in between. there is always something, right folks.

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stupid mishaps, foibles, and catastrophes (i can’t believe there’s no i in catastrophes) are what fuel my blog and life in general i suppose. what the hell would i write about otherwise?

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life would just be pictures then, no stories. eeeeeeeeerrrrkkk that’s me screech steering us away from that sort of fairy talk for the rest of this journey.

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being a work out person makes you 50% more body conscious. i’m like jersey shore up here, caucasian edition, always lifting my shirt up and shit.

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except for my face, that’s still kind of orange.

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hahahah HEADQUARTERS. do we know who’s in charge? hmm it’s a mystery. we might have to hire professionals to figure it out.

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i battled and fended off a chill for 2 days. then friday night, the night of adventurehouse (which i didn’t go to i was that run down) which was amazing i hear, everything fell apart. well, my glands became engorged and swollen like bull testicles or footballs in my neck. coincidentally this was the night when EVERYONE i love to party with contacts me at once to give’r but meanwhile i have a very important personal appointment to tend to. it always goes this way don’t it.

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in the choose your own adventures grand schemes of things, you can’t choose them all.

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but oh lawdy, we try.

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ladies in hades. perfect name. put a tumbl on that shit!

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ugh and still climbing. guess who is winning, quality or quantity. one guy has offered money to kiss my ass. i have got him at $200, i have not counter-offered or quoted. hahaha. more on this later. well no not that i am not going to do it, i just mean, the whole dating thing. i hate it. i am sick of new people in my life i have enough people. i just want to be tethered to one thing. instead, i waste my life, one to two weeks at a time.

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love this book. my mom bought it for my dad years ago.

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doing buns to see how my hair fares this way, this length. when there’s only a blow dryer in the house or you’re short on time this is a good look. fluke look. at chap’s they almost had to call the newspapers they’d never seen something so wild before. at the coach and four, the more they drank, the cuter i got then every time i passed the gauntlet of people to get to the bathroom from mic to our nook, i passed by ten compliments. i was in an extremely foul mood, an email set me off. it got to a point where i just sat and refused to mingle or move. i loved watching lois have a grand time though. philip and i did a duet, we killed it. at the end i sang thank you by dido and all the british men lined up to basically thank and pay me accolades for it cos that’s one of my raymaoke ringer songs from years ago, i used to do it all the time and i can simulate dido’s accent and yeah, i killed it. killed it with leia buns and brits love dido and never saw or heard it coming. there’s something to be said about standing facing a cluster of moist-eyed soft faced endearing pub lushes smiling at you while you belt one out. laura told me she loves karaoke and fantasizes about her compliments for days on end afterward.

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i miss her. we met off the vice messageboard, she’s one of the original vice kids where raymi the minx began. she took me under her wing when i went to new york. she was 23, i, 18. super cool indie, but better. indie was a slag back then and no one said hipster. can you version 2.0 hipsters envision a world without the word hipster? it happened. no one on vice said the word hipster. seriously. hands to cheeks a la macauly culkin on that one. people were just cool without a label, without marketers re-packing their originality in the form of urban outfitters.

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i just sent her this email:

i want to come visit you.

i will be 28 at the end of march. our ten year pumps anniversary is coming up.

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remind me to write about the day i met her one day. it’s an incredible story.

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wah whut hayoooo!

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the socks were irritating the inner-neurotic. i coulda just put them on the other feet, the correct feet and the ribbons would have been aligned symmetrically.

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freak strawberry.

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massacre.

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lime jello is the classic family flavour favoured by us when sick. there’s a bottle of aloe here for my burn that looks exactly like my jello i am eating. WHY DOES EVERYTHING MATCH THAT OCCURS TO ME WAAAH KISMET CHARLIE SHEEN COSMIC ENERGIES blowin’ my miiiind. kidding. no i’m not. yes i am. kidding. just kidding. (hi steph! she laughs when i do the just kidding)(just kidding no she doesn’t)Ughbdshfgdsl ugh brackets forever sorry i am sick and hallucinating enjoy the ride.

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and now the past few day’s from my blackberry’s perspective. this is my fajita salad. i didn’t eat all of it. why can’t restaurants make smaller portions? why do they want to kill all of burlington?

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dad had this. yum. well i tried the burger and it was so totally mass-produced, it made me kind of sad. such a foodie snob. but i love going out and we love chap’s cos we’re weird so i give it a green flag.

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chap’s bathroom. i was extremely overdressed. hahahaa.

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i chose this one because of the catch me if you can-like label. have you seen that movie? the opening title sequence.

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roots scraggly mess after my workout friday morning using TMR‘s office for, you guessed it, internet. sigh. apparently it’s fixed now. ha right, early april fools day joke much lucas?

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weirdest oopsie outfits lately. haha one of my single white female blog (in-denial) stalkers who tries to emulate every single thing i do for 4 years now copied one of my oopsie outfits the other day, the one i wore to shasha what a retard you copied an accident. burn. one time a kid was copying my english quiz so hard and fast he wrote my name as his, i looked over saw it and snatched it out of his hand and slapped it down beneath our teacher’s nose on her desk and everyone around me who overheard died laughing cos andrew was a slack off loser who tried this shit on everyone. i was the class brain, big mouth, teacher’s pet and clown. do you think i let anything slide or an opportunity to get a laugh or be right go? fat chance. also countdown to said SWF copying my buns. clockwork!

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we always sit in the same place, the bar perch. i love people watching here. it feels like being in a barn, completely different from what it looks like on the outside. good place for a religious cult to operate out of or a setting for a sequel to dawn of the dead, board up the windows. i could envision the end of the world going on down here. i told someone on pof that i was training for the apocalypse cos he asked about this photo of me pushing a bunch of weight at the motion room “hey what are you training for?” my approach with men is to be as endearingly snarky as is possible straight off the bat so they know exactly what they are dealing with.

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u training for anything in particular in that one pic?

the apocalypse.

you should probably stay close in case a falling object comes near you, i will throw the undead through a wall to protect you also. no need to thank me.

i, am smooth. el smootho. hahaha tumbling that.

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gotta give it up to brennen, every time i see him he’s got a new look. this time? a little bit of the J man (jesus, who else?) and charles manson. we dubbed ourselves manson and marilyn. how sweet is that?

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what’s not sweet though is my burn. it just gets uglier and uglier by the day. you should probably try not to burn yourselves ever kids just a head’s up. i get really jumpy around hot water now, should have seen me making jello yesterday. christ that was scary.

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classic Veronica Corningstoner. in advertising the advertorial’s impact doesn’t show success until the consumer sees it three times, so repetition is key. what i’m saying is, the next time i say veronica corningstoner it will be committed to your memory.

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love rickard’s white. can you bring me an orange grove with that please? seriously. i had a phase of adding all kinds of real oj and juices to beers.

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big time food fetishist.

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when we hang my dad calls my brother to make fun of him over the phone so shawn can feel like he is with us in person being made fun of. a man at the bar was reading alone over a glass of red wine. he was there last week when my dad and i went for dinner. who is winning, him or us?

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my dad bought these to wear for one of their dr. robert performances for halloween but the night before he saw elton john on tv wearing the same pair, he didn’t want anyone at this party to draw a connection between himself and elton john and the beatles. hahaha oh dad. no i mean go dad. one of the funniest family dis-exchanges happened full circle on that blog, my brother and i still laugh about it and to not be selfish, i shall re-share it again here for all to enjoy and benefit from (laughter is the best medicine):

MOM SAYS: NEED TO THINK OF A BETTER BAND NAME, “GO DAD” IS “GAY”

RAYMI SAYS: OK HOW ABOUT, “MOM SUCKS”?

AHHAHAHahahhaHAHAHAHAHAHH!H!!!!!! yes. high five shawn. don’t feel bad for her she’s ripping on me and telling lies on facebook right now. ugh.

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two birds one stoner, selfies for dudes/blog/twitter. blast that shit out and spread it around. sometimes duckface can’t be avoided. i can’t help it that’s what my face looks like. it’s nana face.

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this was a fat night. immediately after this i ballooned right up. maybe it was the fajita salad and the beer and the sadness. women as they’re pre-menses they’re wolf vultures, it’s scary.

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i wonder what a wolf vulture could look like. amazing obviously.

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i like that rug. where did it come from dad? maybe i’ll buy a nicer one for my room. i might have to mine is full of never been vacuumed once evr and a billion and a billion tickle trunk parties. it was, i forget how much it was. under a hundred. from ikea. it’s the perfect fit though so i need one the exact same size. or, i could just buy a black & decker hand held vac. or their competitor could fucking mail me one already holy shit as if bloggers “pay” for “things” that moms have to buy.

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met the PBC (parkdale boys club) before i took the train out here (again) at mitzi’s yesterday. the spicy eggs are delicious. i wish mitzi’s would put a healthier option on their breakfast menu. like, salad. come on. just one fucking salad do it please.

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by the time we got to sobey’s with my mom (we drove in circles, her attention span steers the car ship man so naturally we were nowhere near the supermarket destination by the time we realised we were nowhere near the supermarket destination) i was hallucinatingly chilled to the bone, train ride wasn’t unpleasant as the one before when i was going to my dad’s (such a gypsy) which was a travelling icebox and packed with commuters. for everyone else yesterday riding with me i’m sure it was unpleasant, i was sniffling like crazy and when i wasn’t i was coughing and sneezing hysterically and frequently. sorry! no one sat near me. aww.

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i bought a bottle of bison sweetgrass vodka to drink through this bullshit, it’s not as good as the other brand though. i like the new tone to my hair it’s like, old lady toned. kind of silvery grey hint. white blond brennen said. i am forcing this smile. i was pretty miserable here. and the rain. blah. i get smiled at alot because i am pretty, yeah i said it, but when i am frowning frumpy mean crabapple face i feel so bad for that cute fool who accidentally looked at me smiling cos he saw the shiny blond puppy but then i am scowling, not at them just at life (can i get-a amen there!) and then their face goes from smile to scolded child i feel so bad, no it’s not your fault at all i feel like saying, i am just psychotically high maintenance and forever kicking schoolyard rocks in my mind a million miles away, in purgatory from a magical place i will never ever get to, understand? all this goes down on my way in to the lcbo as he is coming out, both alcoholics, starting from a high point. raise the bar high. look, i was relatively good friday night, you have no idea the incredible will power it took (sort of, my arm wasn’t exactly twisted) to avoid all those certain people and all the trouble i saved myself from so i had my saturday clear-headed enough, despite my sickness. i had a rough week. i am a whiner baby princess. i earned, needed, and deserved a break from the party and of course i’m guilt-ridden over it. blue eyed silver haired fox learned me a new term, the fear of missing out, forget exactly if that’s the term, FMO what the hell is it called? anyway, you see what i mean. i’ll make it to next advhaus party and the world will still keep spinning. speaking of, should i have a big birthday party or a private pity party?

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swapped tampon brands. i like that they’re marketing to junkies, how very syringe this design is and what’s more, in multi-rainbow colours. a drug addict so totally is the creative marketing director of this brand. some kind of wacky idiot. honestly what’s with the see through vial? is this the days of our lives hourglass? or did this come from my fisherprice doctor kit? where’s the big stethoscope that shit is FUN to scream in to when your brother has the ear buds in.

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ahha and GRANDMA WILL BE PICKING YOU UP TODAY WE’RE GOING AWAY FOR TWO WEEKS. DINNER’S IN THE OVEN, $’S IN THE COOKIE JAR.

should i cancel my work out tomorrow and rest up or commute back into the city tonight, still super sick and dope up on meds and man-up through it? missing work outs gives me huge guilt anxiety.

apologies for typos, i’m tweet/fb-blasting this pre-edit cos i pro like that. impatient. i know nerds are bored and waiting out there for their rayminjection.

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY HURRAH!

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i must say, there’s something about the atmosphere in BOOM. for me specifically of course cos i’m their poster girl (and it’s nice to eat with the entire kitchen staff and bussers smiling winking and waving at you like you’re marilyn monroe) but i noticed this day that the nice treatment isn’t just exclusive to yours truly, they dole that shit out to everyone like they’re truly nice guys or something. heinous. haha.

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what’s more is, i wasn’t even the one who suggested to eating there. mhhm. military guy wanted to see for himself. fine by me pal.

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hope you know what you’re signing up for though, taking this photo and then, many many more, is part of the deal. BIG part.

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even the garbage ones i’ll use. part of the story.

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i look like my nana papa grandma and grandpa all in one.

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so stoked i wore the same thing pretty much this day and yesterday’s post. VARIETY! actually all the outfits i’m wearing these days are comprised of clothing scraps and various rags in general as we’re out of laundry detergent and because of the lack of internet (fiasco heard round the world, literally it’s just a cable or wire that needs to be attached to the fucking phone pole back of adventurehouse) i haven’t been around much at all to take care of lady chores. anywhooo.

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cheapest all day breakfast to hit the city guys! look! fantastic!

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pictures of what this looks like in the real world coming up shortly. military guy is a tank so obviously he could eat two breakfasts easily, order firstsies first and elevensies after.

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calling card.

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i had the eggs tuscany. i try to mix it up.

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mr. tony was in my favourite! go up to him and have a chat sometime. he’s so funny.

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me and my americanos.

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OMG SO STARVED RIGHT NOW.

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mmmmmmmmm. didn’t get a bite. i NEVER get a bite of the waffle someone always scarfs it down before i even get a chance. hmmph.

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in my brain i just poured thick gravy all over this.

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so you get a huge plate of frites and two huge eggs any way you like, toast AND coffee.

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do i look smarter in these or just a stupid hipster? what kind of frames would suit me better? i need to wear them sometimes it’s not some bullshit lenseless try-hard crap you know sometimes my eyes do get squinty or i look like i didn’t sleep for a thousand years or at night in bars or biking, my little peepers need a boost.

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AAAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! yahhhh yum. i am losing it. nice knowing you guys thanks for everything.

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wuh oh bitch face emerges.

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that coral polish is fetching in photographs note to self. i lost this one bottle of green emerald polish i have misplaced, best shade to photograph ever. i’ll find pics. where did it go??

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it’s nice to eat here like a customer and not as my crazy in the kitchen running around like a servant self. i do like serving though, well more so hostessing and playing party. ha grown up party hahah snore.

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i love food like this, sloppy stack you mash together. kindergarden forever. oh yeah.

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meanwhile look at his plate, tidy, anal.

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and this would be the guest of honour. insert trumpet blares.

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how perfect.

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i didn’t know i was borderline cross-eyed. wow i learn so much about myself through this blog. never-ending self-reflections.

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military guy is powering through his and i’m still working on my first. LAY OFF ME I’M WORKING OVER HERE! you should see other people’s faces around me sometimes (when they’re eating like normal folk and i’m still snapping my appetizer), perma-hidden camera social experiments. sometimes my friends will give me little insights on people’s reactions to whatever retarded thing i am doing and photographing. aimee one time told me as i pulled out a tiny blythe doll from my purse a woman in a pub in oakville’s eyes bulged out of her head and she thought i was insane. i’m like where is she point her out to me, she did. woman was a beast. keep gawking then lay-day i may be nuts but at least i don’t look like choo. ps. rod stewart haircuts only look good on one person, ROD STEWART (and i know this cos i tried it once).

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DO YOU THINK YOUR HERO WILL EVER GET A TASTE OF A BOOM WAFFLE OMFG!!?

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ok this special begins THIS MONDAY and you can boom it up monday through friday. $4.99 is super cheap for breakfast these days, considering the bustling urban metropolis what is toronto, the most pricey city in the country to live in. on top of the cheapskate $4.99 ticket you can still get tax off with your Raymi D(iscount) List just for reading my blog. i just asked blue eyed silver haired fox what five dollars with no tax was. duuuuuuuuuuh. ok now he’s saying this makes no sense either. it does right?

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i loooove these little plaques, i found a new one.

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i want this in my house. dream house kitchen martha stewart explosion.

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see the coffee cups? cute. of course.

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oh who’s this now?

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emma was sitting at the bar chatting up everyone. what a neat gal. incoming raymbo.

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808 college street just east of ossington, north side, pretty much across from revival.

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what is it 1982 look how grainy these are. I KEEPS IT REAL.

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i’m as cute as a plate of potato frites. you know they put rosemary on that ish eh. i am going to my eat hand now if you’ll excuse me.

now go eat and save and say i said hey OR ELSE (you won’t get a discount silly)(gosh!)

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XOXOXOOXOX

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sharon stoner moment much. i don’t know why but when i look at myself in this headband i think of her. then casino. then all sorts of ridiculous irrelevant having nothing at all to do with my real life person type things. epic thoughts. charlie sheen-level. oh that poor bastard.

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guess who’s a Minx girl now? guess who already was a minx girl since 1983? these are lindsay lohan’s infamous decals, take on tie-dye. my brain was buzzing as these books were put in my lap and piles of designs so i’m not sure i heard kathy exactly but i piece together that she wrote the fuck you herself on the minxicure? either way cuckoo bananas yes please some more of that right meow.

oh no wait, this is the design she had.

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and look what i just discovered when you google lindsay lohan minx look for the picture of the black haired girl in the old man shoes in the diner third row down.

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you cannot pass these up once you see them. i can’t tell you how difficult it was to decide and narrow down.

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whattagwan!

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i want to find a picture of riri with these on so hype.

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woah thanks internet.

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that’s some surrious shhhhhit right there.

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diamond crystals on deck just in case you never know!

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here we go now.

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prep me baby while i rap to you.

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royal walking.

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my finger looks like it got in a bicycle accident like owen wilson’s busted nose then an idiot tried to realign it and this was the best they could do. don’t (do) be jeals of my endearing weirdism too much now.

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gaahaha look at that thing and oh my gosh could there be MORE pop culture references in this bloody thing can we just get through it already people jesus.

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thank youuu.

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reminds me of my ask zandar game. a wizard fortunes game. don’t ask.

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by the way i just got carded at the lcbo. NO IDEA WHY LOOK AT ME I AM 14 AGAIN. actually at fourteen i already looked thirty haha. all that 60 watt exposure from my bedside lamp reading christopher pike.

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this looks so intimate like we are talking about menstruation and feelings and barf, our sexuality. i wonder if rich people get manicures and massages because they are touch starved. how badly do i want to infiltrate a cuddle party anonymously and report back EVERYTHING to you people here!? 8:15 – donald “zanily” steamrolled claudia over to my comforter instantly erupting the secret farting nerds into resounding bouts of geeky giggling. i pretended i was in REM.

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being a girl is the best. being a girl princess waste of space, even better.

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you mean, everything i say is constantly hilarious always to you? no way! thanks! file file file buff buff polish. heheh.

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alexander mcqueen designed these. before he died obvs. kathy wasn’t sure if Minx would still release them. they did.

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on with the first. such an easy and interesting process. you can buy kits for your salon too, someone comes in and teaches you how to minx and off you go.

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while the nails are being cleaned and prepped for application, the minx decals sit beneath the heat lamp. then each one is individually adhered to a nail and fitted to size. then the excess sticker is filed off with a glass file. clean and tidy.

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live minx reporting.

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i should put a photo up on pof with these and say i’m a huge soccer fan. gino jackpot.

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or i really love nascar.

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horrrrible posture. it’s better since TMR though for sure.

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i know the ones i want next if they don’t get new ones by the time i go back. pink/fushcia plaid.

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bla blah blah blah i am so important and hip and modern tra la luh social media blogging niche market honk honk yadda yadda. ahhahaa.

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i’ve never been so white in so long. i’m going to go alabaster to help stay forever young.

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ham attack.

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now for the fun part. zany posing.

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kiss the queen.

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underkill.

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bathing in the afterglow effects. don’t worry, this will be you too.

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and this.

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but not so much this you might not be cute enough for this.

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someone said i was a puppy that needed to be pet.

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SO PET MEEEEEEEEEEE.

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i was doing gary oldman doing jesus in the professional when he walks through the beaded curtains before they gun that family down. gary oldman, guy. incredible. bound to go say and do nutso things counter on that guy for sure.

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oh right we’re here about nails i should show them ha.

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yeeeeugh.

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just kidding guys everything’s fine and normal and dandy.

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oh backlighting.

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i went on a date with a photographer couple months ago. he snapped at me for being late (genuine time to meet up confusion)(it was only by half an hour) but anyway when he started about photography when i had to ask to pretend to be interested to get out of the being late doghouse immediately i was like oh my god shut uuuuup about photography and cameras. NOW. probably about the same feeling some may get from hearing about bloggers or blogging outside of me. melucas’ blood pressure must hit the roof there’s only so much we can taaaake enough enough. yeah well this bullshit got you vip baby.

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time to go.

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love the font, very harrod’s. see you in knightsbridge.

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i could get used to this. oh wait i already am and have.

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maybe my next brand name will have swarovski in it or hawaiian tropical resort billions of dollars and spanish villa and those guys will email me to collaborate too.

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close your eyes. make a wish.

SIR-MINX-A LOT OUTTIE.

oh check these photos of the Thierry Mugler fashion show in Paris yesterday with Minx Team USA and UK also Minx Canada is on Facebook, Like them so i can go through minx finishing school.

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Dear Raymi;

-Gabrielle

initial response You sound v smart and riddled with potential and only eighteen wow impressive. Gab away gabe. Why did u move to mtl? And how, parents?

but then, 18 year olds exist? why am i boggled by this at all, 18 is the year i graduated high school and fucked off to new york fucking city. vice printed my story about it, i was working for them. hanging with ex strippers, degenerates, rock n rollers thirty year olds and older everywhere i looked i was the youngest and dumbest but i played it pretty cool though you wouldn’t know my age really.

this was the hottest summer, the summer of 2001 in new york city, brooklyn. you can’t say new york city and brooklyn in the same sentence can you? well i do. cos that means something to canadians and especally hipsters haha.

matt good wanted to use this for an album cover some day. this might have been the time he was going squirrely because that is way too flattering for me. anyway nice haircut. ugh. the humidity and growing out my hair just did a number on that mop top. this is when you must invent yourself a personality.

that’s the WTC still standing behind me btw.

that’s me in laura’s orange stripper wig and tight snakeskin stripper dress. this is normal, i was eighteen you see? she danced at pumps. does it still exist? my dad would die if he saw the neighbourhood it was in. i’m a tough chick. touch stupid chick. would i do half the things i did back then today? no chance.

me (back turned bad hair) singing on a rooftop in greenpoint the night they dynamited those water towers. had a massive party. we didn’t last that long though for the explosion but heard it in park slope. my ex is the guy with the plaid pants on bass. shannon my other roommate is the blond. she worked for mtv. amazing chick.

our livingroom the easter (april) prior to my moving here. i took the bus easter weekend to check out the apartment, i was still in high school. scandal! suffice it to say i had zero in common with anybody in my high school and made little attempts to relate. i had friends, i was cool blah bla liked etc etc but i lived in a dream internetland that emo kids today probably dwell in, friends afar. i mean, i fell in love with someone over email and then i moved to his city. it happens.

this is from my archives of that summer

went to lucky cheng’s last nite and sang karaoke with anita cocktail the transvestite. she grabbed my boobs a lot and danced when i sang VOGUE and FERNANDO. she told me she weighed 217 lbs and called me a superstar. i am hungover.

this is me at 17.

williamstown mass., the week following 9/11 when we were finally allowed to leave the city we drove to new hampshire to see his sister, then in on cj in mass then to maine, to stay at the house. we would come to live in this house together, for three months, january to march. i flew back to canada on my birthday telling my dad my next plans of moving to toronto finally. a sparkly bruce lee is on my tshirt i bought at black market. i dressed like a dumpy hobo slob hippie. always in flip flops. i was stopped once by a UK fashion magazine once for a photo i swear i am not lying hahaha.

i look super happy.

and here i look like the kid from the shining. this is when my hair was finally starting to grow.

we had a going away party for me. so many people came. hot guys everywhere and the random assortment of misfits i had gathered during my time in NYC. one girl with massive fake tits and a killer body. i looked very cool, total champ. jamie and i had just missed being friends with one another at this time. that sucks. who knows how the universe (known universe haha) would have panned out had we met back then. oh yeah i am on vicodin in this photo, other shit too. wild times.

ok back to that email i barely scratched the surface i got all nostalgia jones.

brbrbrbbrbrb

then i started looking like this.

during the april visit ha.

in maine. three months before i turned 19.

this is what i was wearing when that uk mag stopped me. same day. bartending a vice boozecan in-store, soho. i’m inebriated here. you can’t see the arch of my back so i look pregsalot. i was definitely rocking baby fat. this photo was in a show of some sort or other i think.

ok back to email sorry sorry.

This is going to sound ridiculous, I know you’re a twenty-something, but I always feared that people, in essence, were built to recede.

you sound like glass half empty girl. doomed from the start. stop it. wrong approach and outlook also a backhanded compliment. you’re old but you keep getting better and more prominent. exactly. it never occurred to me that i might turn into an aged rocker who just won’t let it go, or the dream die. your shelf life in canada is shorter i think and you spend more than half the time at work on it.

you need a degree of arrogance, skill, confidence and the ability to always be right. righter.

eventually i’ll recede, but it will be the good kind of fade, the hippie sort, still there kicking it around in some bizarre swirl of habitat or other typing out nonsense to whoever is still listening.

like willie nelson in half baked, people will come for miles to pay their respects to me in the form of delivering weed and i’ll say shit like those were the times maaaaan and i’ll finally let that one lone chin hair grow in, nice and long and wiry.

it could go that way OR i will recede into psychotic stepford anal-retentive dying on the inside-repressed housewife. my utopian domestic fantasy would be a combination of dharma and greg (my last one was pretty much exactly that haha) meets i dream of jeannie. YOU GOTTA RUB ME THE RIGHT WAY.

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i’ll do anything for you as long as i get to wear this and be stoned the entire time.

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rrrrawr. pink and red? perfect. weird pillbox hat? divine.

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in cartoon jetsons form replete with mc hammer pants, sign me up.

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yuppie and the trophy, works every time!

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this is melodie and i working on adventures or she’s trying to study or do biology stuff and in i come and make it all about me and take over completely, take zero of her advice and leave when it’s her turn to talk. hehehhee. no wonder she tells me off.

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who doesn’t (in their head) live in a pink sultan’s abode within a gaudy magic lamp?

how fitting is this? liz made it. i love her. we’ve been blog buddies for years. she is a magical sparkle insane princess bizarro version of me somewhere in america. she went to burning man and i read her blog obsessively as she prepared for it, go look through her archives. addictive.

oh my her hair.

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hey buddies ol friends ol pals ol chums, how the heck are ya? me? oh fine fine, thanks for asking. this is me an hour ago waiting for the train. what else is new. we STILL do not have our internet fixed. the variety of excuses we’ve received from our internet provider is at this point, actual comedy. remember the other day when i said they think they are comedians? strike that. try, ARE comedians. yesterday’s reason, IT’S TOO DARK BACK THERE (no flashlights!?!??!?!)(!!!!??!?!??) and then this morning THERE’S A TREE (how did you install the shit then!?!) i’m not mentioning their name yet until the problem is once and for all resolved and THEN i will tear them a new one. i realized via dooce’s blog post about maytag that it could be an abuse of power to start slagging and really at the end of the day, they do have us by the balls. we are nothings. i have never felt so homeless and insane like i have the past 3 weeks because of this. one disruption in the cosmos and everything can and for surely will, go to shit. just watch the rest of this post, you’ll see. for my every victory i am met with nine tall-ass hurdles that i can’t jump i just walk through them hitting my forehead into each fucking one. i really won’t be surprised the day i break a bone (knock on wood) get hit by a car (knock knock) you know? as i was sitting on my bed today sighing out loud into the room about having to go annoy everyone at poor john’s for the third day in a row now (wifi) or meet melodie wherever she was at and then click, power in my room goes out. all is dark in the tickle trunk. well, i had many more hours of daylight but i knew that i’d be stuck in the dark, with no internet if i stayed the night, or go out, in search of trouble. i could hang in the other part of the house but i am in the wombat stage of my winter stir crazy marathon of wanting to be in a tiny dark bunker alone until my pmess goes away but then i lost light, and power and heat and it’s freezing. i have a baseboard heater but i wanted to crank the other one cos i’ve had a chill the last two days. just picture me though is the funny part, woe is me down on my luck and then the heater made the funny beep when the breaker blows and the power goes out. what’s next!

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i will just keep rambling if i don’t interrupt with photos. holy buzzkill up there much eh.

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gandalf spicoli oh yeah.

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my newest friends, minx nails oh what a match-made in brand cross-promotional heaven this is gonna be. i loved absolutely everything about my experience being did by kathy (who was summoned to lady gaga’s hotel room when she was in town for the mmvas) was, kind of surreal? magical? yes. totally both those things. icing on the cake? this girl is an old school hardcore girl. i hope she comes to our adventurehouse party i know melodie will adore her and i’ll get left out like the little simpleton sister i get treated like by those two all the time hahaha. by the way i hope YOU come to advhaus party too. salvador darling. 9pm. SHITSHOW. it’s our second one.

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i wanted burberry plaid. i wonder if they will get it or can or if it even exists at all, maybe i hallucinated it? very likely.

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i feel like i have discoball soccerball nails and that the entire universe is looking at me, oh wait it’s because i do and they are. on the go train here i felt like a spotlight was pointed on me. i already look the complete opposite of every single person on the train all the time enough, but add my nice huge steve madden hobo chic bag and wacky laptop bag my hair and look at me vibes, these nails, taking pictures of myself. hahaha. i used to longboard all over the oakville go train station in the summer in my bikini top, good times.

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taught myself how to longboard on the beach strand in los angeles. i was insane. i asked my dad what he thought about charlie sheen right now and he said so what (so right) if he had money he’d be insane too, then he started joke babbling while driving and saying nonsensical shit and i busted up laughing. totally. i wish people wouldn’t grant him interviews right now though, i feel that’s slightly (egregiously) unfair. nancy grace? of course. poor taste pays that woman’s bills yo.

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now that i’ve seen them in action i see that the biggest is the bestest way to do it if this is available to you why would you get a simple design? boring. i want hamburgers and rubies and sparkles and cotton candy tufts little lulu’s candy dreamland cartoon, so ancient that reference is, anyway. cute it up.

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whoopsie-doo. how good was hamburgers and rubies though, i know right.

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reminds me of pravda, absinthe bar in new orleans.

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cutesy props. wonder what the next one to go around for girly songstresses will be? hmmmm. trend forecasting hat on.

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i played in these. remindded me of pee wee herman’s salon in the movie blow, located in manhattan beach where i lived for a month. amazing to stick your head in that window and see the scenes from the movie while kids go by on skinny boards exactly like the knife heartbeats video.

The Knife – Heartbeats from Johannes Nyholm on Vimeo.

it was an interesting time that’s for sure.

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this was an amazing panini. the super nice kid put pepper flakes and some hot powder on it, salami and roast vegetables, spinach. yum. he was really nice. i said i was crazy and liked a lot of heat. then i sat in the sunny window and almost had an anxiety attack from the heat in my black jumper haha. not really but i am so extreme and high maintenance. ridiculous. so is melodie. i joined her over at her desk and put my elbow into my plate and catapulted my sandwich scraps onto my arm, they all stuck, everything else machine gun splatted onto my pants. white sandwich crumbs popping off my black one piece. perfect.

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the guy sat down and flirted with me a bit. i assume everyone in parkdale thinks i am insane for just like, being. there are a lot of characters in our midst. you get a contact buzz just from living there, not a buzz exactly, like a, if you spend 3 weeks without the internet shuffling to and fro from your dads and coffeeshops, yeah you certainly do start to feel insane.

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i asked melodie where i was so i could text/tell my colleague. she’s like, can you ask someone else?? in front of the entire coffeeshop. i pretended to be passive aggressive about it. she didn’t notice. a guy laughed though cos i kept it comical and really, i am a clown, an adorable shambles of a person you so totally cannot be mean to me. really, it’s like swearing at a puppy. you may as well be satan.

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i was walking to i don’t know where, it was cold i was going to hit whatever looked the most inviting. then i saw this hunched over extremo-stressed out looking girl with melodie’s haircut, no wait, that IS melodie. i went in and was like, you look scary. hahaha. she was on a deadline. school is scary man. no way thank you i’ll stick to backflips and high kicks in stupid useless loser bubblegumdropland.

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went to cafetaste with courtney last night. i love hanging with her, she’s so feisty and unpredictable. i’m glad we’re friends. she has good quotes. her last one i want to go on our next advhaus party flyer I ALMOST DIED BUT, I LOVE ADVENTUREHOUSE. hahahhaa. wonder what she’ll say next friday.

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my dreamy walk home. ahhhhhhhhh.

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oh stop girl why you bein so shy now.

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water closet. piss room. you can hang out in the hippie commune while people walk by or have a lovely chat while they boil the kettle (my new nemesis) in the kitchen.

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kathy says i have amazing nail beds. model nail beds. demo nail beds. ooooooooooh la la. she screeched in glee when i came in, she’d already looked over my blog. insta-friend.

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you look 4000% hotter holding things with these on. candles. bananas. oranges. cucumbers. haha.

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they last ten days. do not at all damage your fingernails. i went to this place on dundas, heartbreaker by barbarella 889 dundas st w, 4 1 6 8 6 9 0 4 4 0 (when i type phone numbers i get blasted with skype spam wtf? so i have to space type out the phone number. cool!)

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very gwen stefani lately.

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i look like the geico gecko. gnecco? jimmy gnecco ghecco? whatever.

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sponsored by vans.

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avril lavigne approved.

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nice face crazy. CRAZY HOT MORE LIKE!

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the ones in the packets are the newest designs. they have the ones alexander mcqueen designed. silver monochrome. mmmmmhmmmm gerl. i got my nails did so i talk like this now alright accept it. holy fuck look at that coug print. check out their photo album. i am going to have my toenails done for summer then i’ll be a bubblegum princess nightmare forever and i’ll start partying with charlie sheen.

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RiRi had these Benjamins. yuh yuh! i will get them next time and gold fronts.

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and then next i’ll go baby doll pink something or other. kathy brought out this little display as we left and the nails had rainbow donut sprinkles covering EVERYTHING. i died.

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a chick (hey amanda) at the station saw me taking a picture of my nails and chatted me up then i noticed her bag and said no wonder you were drawn to me and my nails. i don’t believe in much in life but i do believe in subconscious instances, people’s vibes and energy. ok whatever.

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cafetaste‘s cavernous underbelly. i had to leave the city. i’d go out and be a wastecase if i didn’t, no internet for me is satan dropping pandora’s box on me. i mean come on, look at my “work life” can you even begin to imagine what my secret real life is like? yes and yes probably i bet.

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but then to balance everything out in the cosmos, when you’re up, ya cannae bee tee up there lassies. ok i am irish now but anyway, i had horrendous cramps and practically sob marched all the way home in the dark at midnight hoping i wouldn’t get jumped and i looked all over the house for this water bottle, the kids weren’t home to take care of me i texted to see if they could tell me what vortex black hole sucked up the water bottles (for some reason we have a lot of water bottles here) and they said on their bed and then in my over-eagerness to pour the kettle into the water bottle i poured a liter of it onto my entire hand where i was holding the lip of the water bottle open. i scalded myself. badly. it’s scarlet red today, no blisters but close. it was burnt so badly that cold water stung it. no relief. even now it still stings, feels so dry and sore i may as well have slammed it in a car door. i said to kathy my canadian celebrity nail minxologist how great would it be if i had come in with a cast mitt on this one hand? no kidding right. so then i had an even worse problem than the cramps which let me tell you, were significant enough. enough to warrant a fucking hot water bottle after sharing wine and having rounds of vodka sodas and a bit of pot, still not enough but then i got to sleep with ice packs and this stupid hot water bottle too. i woke up at 6 in the morning to pee and clutching the water bottle and the freezer pack was now room temperature and i was like, what the f–? then the pain came back to my hand. oh, that’s right i forgot, my life is awesome.

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blue eyed silver fox gave me the furry buffalo freebie that came with the bottle of sweetgrass vodka he brought back from amsterdam. we mixed it with pear and san pel. SO GOOD. i rejoined pof and within 24 hours over 200 messages. he was the first date i went on. beginner’s luck. i’m afraid to go back on it.

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i dressed like kevin smith today.

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jeremy (cafe taste) chose this for us. nice white. the kitchen was closed so i didn’t pig out at all yesterday. it was trying especially when i’m pmess and have no internet. i don’t grocery shop i just live off of coffee and weed but when you spend hours in a coffeeshop with a delicious menu and great coffee, good luck will power. i have successfully avoided the two adorable craft beers on tap though. day time drinking is for yuppies.

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my aunt’s trench. melodie loves it. i knew she would. now i can use this to barter something out of her collection. i’ve never had a sister before but i am learning. i get kind of incredulous about how we treat each other or make jokes, we are severe. i realize that everyone else who isn’t us, is a legit sensitive pussy. so maybe i need to watch my mouth a little more hahaha.

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i have two tickets to this i left them on their bed. i will be missing it (thanks bell!) so go tell them raymi says hi, find louise. i mean it. get me a gift bag too melodie.

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i’m in a league with lady gaga and katy perry now, rihana. yeah i know i know i am nothing compared to them but still, “it’s all happening man.” kathy was very impressed by me. she had a great song selection on her ipod. so whatcha want came on and i casually said i could rap the entire song and then i did. she told me about every minx design she did on friends and celebrities. girl nail pr0n is great in photos but in action, wow. you go into that world and you don’t come up for air until you are done. royally. photoman was there but he so wasn’t you know?

alright meow going deeper into the vortex.

homelessly yours, your pal raymi.

xo

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have no idea what we’re eating here. might be blue menu veggie chili. boring!

breaking in my burlesque shoes and dancing self consciously while lucas pretends to ignore me on the computer. it was also boiling hot this day i believe. those are steph’s teeny tiny shorts. i am a whale.

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