I found u first at flicker tonight, then found ur blog and this e mail adress …
I just wonder that why are u putting ur naked photos on net ?
When I sae ur photos at flicker I said what a nice lady she must be from england jet-set …
but then i found ur naked photos and get shocked…
I looked at around 1000 of ur 52000 photos at flicker and just wanna ask u that r u a bitch or sth like that ?
Regards …
am i a bitch? yes totally. but what that has to do with my nudity and 52000 photos i don’t know. why do i put naked photos on the net? because i am body obsessed and i derive too much of my self worth from my image and seek validation through showing my body’s progress. why question it really even though? how about a big bowl of who cares?
ohh god .. u reply so fast …
ok … if u r a bitch i will be very very sad , cuz u should not be, u r sooo beautifull …
and now comment of the day (that was the weird english as a second language email of the day)(ugh i have a headache from lack of sleep) goes to my lady rhonda who gave up her entire beloved comedy life in toronto for her love in ireland. i miss her and don’t believe for one second she’s fat.
I love hot sauce!! I remember when we snacked on nothing but veggies in hot sauce and it was divine. Not much hot sauce here in Ireland (people here think tabasco is hot sauce and that is such a lie, worse than statistics it is!) and people here hate vegetables, so now I can’t wear cute clothes anymore because I have been replacing the non-existent vegetables with mayonnaise (which I hate and also is everywhere). Love your clothes though. Looking forward to the post where you wear the matching dress/top and rose bag, you’ll look like a classic movie star, not unlike Marilyn Monroe, but way more alternative. Like, the cult Marilyn that all the regular people aren’t cool enough to have heard of. Every time I try and post something, the internet cuts out…so quickly…you are looking gorgeous as ever and you seem so happy. I’m glad because you have an amazing life; don’t stop doing what you’re doing. If you’re ever in Europe, come and visit because now I live in a cute house in the sticks with 2 extra bedrooms (one I might turn entirely into a closet, but only until I can fit into clothes again) and an extra living room, so there’s plenty of space. Nothing like Parkdale though. Noooothing like it.
What I wouldn’t murder for a proper West Indian hot roti.
x rhonda
now i have to fold all my laundry instead of using it as a base for jerkoff mountain haha. melodie just came home and is nicely folding it. i just said if she folds all my laundry she doesn’t have to come tonight.
it’s bigger in real life. this is going to take me hours to do. then i will read in the bath and nervously obsess over tonight 8PM AT THE HIDEOUT. bring a lot of money.
It’s late into the night and all I can think of doing is look up Jack Kerouac clips on youtube and sink down deep to jazz, Mass., and that sense of alone-time surrounding me everlastingly (of which case I know God Damn well that it won’t last long). Every day when I jump on the net to recover some type of history about Kerouac, I find all kinds of things. And somehow, I came across you.
I’m not sure whether you not you can help me. I’m not even sure as to why I am writing you in this kind of nature, but I thought that its something like this isn’t thats not at all too harmful. A simple message and maybe a provoking thought could inspire such circumstances, but as I was scrolling and clicking and searching, etc, I found some article that you had written and it seemed like AHH HA, there’s a connection between her and Kerouac. Is it true?
I keep thinking that Kerouac is some form of God that really showed me how to see the world for what it truly is and for what it wanted to be, I guess. The only thing I’m not sure of is when these feelings for Kerouac and his million words streaming through my head will end some day and for me to move on to some other author. But, I don’t think I can do that. I take walks around and through desolate streets and sidewalks and alleyways reading Kerouac. I’ve watched box trains slowly roll along rusty tracks and other modern zooming trains packed with wind and fury flying by as I passed the visions of Cody Pomeray.
When it comes down to another thought: How do you feel about him?
(am I making all of this up or should I continue with what I saw and what I wanted to ask you, about him, and maybe, about your life and your pictures…)
Sincerely,
Brandon
Yes it’s true. Don’t let prose make you go squirly. Live in the real world as often as you can and don’t drink yourself away like jack. Write as much as you like though, don’t get compulsive about it. Sounds like you are a bit. I am too, naturally. Anyway hey.
Dear Raymi,
I think it’s got me by the reins and there’s no holding back this time. Before I was wondering about his simplicity and maybe some abstract morality crawling out of his books somewhere, must have been youthful and careless as it was in the beginning, you know, reading On The Road as most people start to take hold of. And it was at that time, Hunter S. Thompson was in my views because of all the wild & crazy talk he had readers whiling within his prose, finding eventually that he somewhat despised Kerouac. I was offended by this slight remark. I don’t think he meant it. He just thought of him as a drifter I guess but afterwards, when it would seem like books to me were useless, graduating from college with a B.A. in Sociology and Anthropology, I was through with reading journals and articles and diving in for clips and sheets of notes piling on my dorm room desk. Except for when novels come falling out of a attic, amidst begrudged porn and surfing magazines and other travel books that tell you here and not there and not over there, this is the place to be when you die sort of feeling, Kerouac’s novel of On The Road flew right between my feet as my uncle was changing residences and cleaning out that attic. He told me that was his copy and I’de be MEZmerized when I would finish it. From that point on I couldn’t stop listening to jazz and floating seamlessly through his mind and other caricatures as if I were some kid again. I felt like everything else was completely out of focus when I read him. And you can say that because your older than me, of what it looks like anyways. Nonetheless, I won’t bother you on whatever personal history you have with Kerouac as far as the early days but I will tell you that I AM NOT a pervert. I am sincere. I am content. I am convoluted sometimes and it would feel absolutely absurd if I did like your pictures online but I don’t have time to keep writing you about that, no sir. It was up to you to post them and for people to see them, daily. I do have time write, but I think we should stay on topic.
Well, yes, Kerouac, oh you sweet man how can than be no other person. Damn is he good. Furthermore I should continue, but I’ll let you lead.
B.
i feel super pretentious talking about my relation. i get nasty emails and comments on the regular about it, accusing me of not actually being related. it’s rather annoying. yes i am older than you. you can like anything as much as you want in life but if it gets to a point where it’s not going anywhere monetarily, time to move on. keep it as a hobby, i dunno. i stayed up pretty late last night so i don’t really know what to say at this juncture. i just know it’s hard to finish books because of modern day technology, i compulsively write and release daily and i definitely drink too much.
i also think all this social media madness is going to end in amazing flames. i know people take it seriously but really, it should be called smoke and mirrors week. it’s important to big companies to please them about what this such and such internet star is up to but really the people we should be caring about pleasing is the little people, the real people, the people who read those fucking blogs everyday and maybe have a discussion about why we read these blogs everyday or care.
it looks like this:
big company + free hamburger + social media stooge = nobody cares
do you honestly care about someone’s useless noise on twitter all day long? who is actually being influential here? nobody. james gave me great advice yesterday, never believe your own hype. he asked me if i believed mine and i said yes but humble me said no. yeah it’s great having my hair did and blowing money on outfits i won’t care about in a month but we know there is substance here. i puncture those advertorial posts (that i do in my own raymi flare, staying true to my racy edgy nature) with lots of self-indulgent blogging. i keep it true. i am only trying hard to please myself here and i think that shows. i maintain meaningful relationships with virtual strangers via email for years, i get no monetary value out of that, i do it because i honestly care about such and such loner weirdo writing me during a panic attack from neptune. THAT is how i made myself. i built a following based on merit and exposing my journey, not on free perfume samples and gum marketed to 20 year old retards with no money. i don’t care how many people i offend, i offend many people daily and that takes bravery. i know i piss off everybody. suck it up kids. if you’re so fly, then prove it, own it. the same circle jerk spotlight presently on social media is the exact same attention blogging received in its first wake of popularity, then it fizzled and the majority packed it in cos they realized it took actual time and work to blog. you guys weren’t around for that. the frenzy of twitter ladder climbing is a bit desperate and it’s pissing people off because we are tired of pretending to care and i am tired of talking shit about it and hearing shit about it i would rather be discussing more important things like how nice i might look in a tennis outfit in the countryside.
people make fun of twitter people lots. yep. tons. oh you’re at taco bell right now this is amazing news thank you for sharing. many articles have been written about twitter dismantling it. yet if you stand out from the pack there’s this genuine fear of being unfollowed. it’s a stab in the heart to be unfollowed, are there apps that you find out right away if that happens? does the world stop?
anyway i am just totally being smug from my high horse because it’s not necessary for me as an artist to play along with any of these people, though somewhat is, yet cos i come from the cool kid set i can yank on their pigtails and make fun of them. which i do and will only continue to do more so in the future even if they get golden cadillac escalades i’ll still be here, laughing at them. like the fat girl who gets hot and confronts the bully on jenny jones and he’s now a disgusting troll, she, a perfect ten. she wants vindication and he says to her something like because of me you became hot or you’re still a nerd. you may get fancy nice things but those things don’t pay bills and this queen bee doesn’t do shit fo’ free. dragging your ass around to nerd events where they get you trashed and you end up a used-up party face.
ten years guy.
ok wait this is the part where i cancel everything out i said with a winky emoticon face.
forgive me. i’ve been up all night talking courtney’s face off (who doesnt like to be touched so i squeezed her and hugged her as many times possible to make her uncomfortable) the eve of a charity date auction where i need to look as spring chicken as possible and i wrote a beautiful self-absorbed speech manifesto about why i am the best person to bid on. i have the longest q&a response because i took the time to do it, no one else put that much effort into it, half the contestants (haha contestants? this is a game show now?) didn’t even bother, they’re too busy tweeting about how awesome they are i guess. the point is, do you want to go on a date with me or not? i am a professional dater. i know where to go, what to eat, how to dress, how to be. i am smooth. please come and watch the whole trainwreck unfold tonight and bring your wallet.
the title of this post is something malcolm said to me last night about how i was at mitzi’s last week and did i notice the big hair of this famous chick sitting across the bar from me. i said no i didn’t even notice her at all and he’s like how could you not? i said i dunno, i only look at girls i feel threatened by. sorry but if you don’t bring it you just fade into the background for me. there are many wallflower types out there and you meet them and then you have no recollection of it and then it hurts their feelings. i’m sorry but i have TEN YEARS of emails, random chats, and events to remember, how dare you make me feel bad not remembering who you are wearing that boring bland sweater like that. get me? i also can’t see very well at night in dark bars. anyway, if you catch me looking at you it’s cos you’re hot. or, you stared at me first cos you think i am hot and then therefore become interesting to me because you noticed the shiny thing in the room, this also makes you smart, not necessarily hot though. by the way, hot people are smarter than ugly people. just going to throw that out there. maintaining beauty is a skill, it’s a usable business resource, ace in the sleeve. you are an idiot if you think looks don’t mean anything and that we’re all pretty on the inside. fuck that, tell your kids right now to start giving a shit about appearance otherwise you’re going to have to deal with inferiority complexes forever.
wow this post just keeps on going eh.
what else.
oh right this is how i am related to jack kerouac i made a family tree for malcolm because he was blowing his load about it and by the way look at how i write (not penmanship, prose) it’s a retarded mess just like kerouac. i don’t keep bringing it up, people bring it up to me! when you get mega pageviews daily one of those readers is gonna send you nerdmail so please give me a break and leave me alone about it (the kerouac thing, it’s called relevance). how sad is it that the way people deal with life is anonymously harassing others on the internet? brilliant.
time to make coffee two. i love starbucks instant coffee packets. i want to be sponsored by starbucks. i can’t believe i am turning into a stepford wife lunatic who drinks starbucks maybe next i’ll get a little dog and die of hypocrisy.
picture sitting here hours, going through coffees and joints and loving it. weekly. my brother came by to visit and at some point attempted to startle me and i was such a cave of a person i barely even flinched. it was hysterical. like the old lady having a mega mega delayed reaction to gary oldman shooting a bullet into the glass window behind her head in the professional.
now, couldya find a more perfectly matched hue if you tried? what are the odds? also i totally hated the taste of grapefruit for many (MANY) years and i’m sure if you googled raymi and grapefruit you could easily come up with many a quote by your hero comparing the taste of grapefruit to that of tart urine. close second similar in tasting, pineapple. not that i drink pee or anything.
one more. magnificent. go me. irl the colour isn’t supposed to be this matched. my polish is called sorbet. which is orange, not pink related. my woody allen neurosi are showing.
threw this shirt in my get rid of it box after this picture. it’s by aa, has dumb shit all over it (which you thankfully can’t see). mom gave it to me. she likes tacky glitzy stuff like she lives on rodeo drive or something.
so basically for the next little while i am fucked. i’ve got more photos looking even more like her but i am tired of looking at myself and i’m bored and want to go out and play now.
this little snack i made just blew my head off. scotch bonnet, suicide psycho xxx hot sauce from ali’s roti (ask darius, it’s intense) and scaled down with kozlick’s xxx hot mustard. then a pinch of balsamic. do i have a problem? yes, several. nothing hot sauce can’t cure. anything that blasts me out of reality is a-ok.
hey internet lets do this! here i am yesterday sitting at the piano before we went out to eat at chap’s. i love chap’s. it’s a dump trapped in 1990, it’s texican. that isn’t even a word! amazing! if you want to look like me just sit in front of a light source. insta-soft lighting youth making flaw erasing.
i put this on facebook and now i cant get anything done. i call this the norma jean. the look’s foundation of which being mega blond and manipulative sweater number 5, all american wholesome goodness. where is my crock pot? bought an elfin belt.
totally neurotic photo taking day. nothing is good enough. phone wasn’t co-operating. i haven’t downloaded my camera pics yet so we’ll see how that went. always a mystery surprise.
my northern masturbating forest spider’s layer offering. pink grapefruit perrier. uber anorexia girl greyhounds. ROLE MODEL INFLUENCER BASTION OF HEALTH. no problem chase it down with peach blend applesauce. zero fat. matches my nail polish. actually the american wants to stop drinking. when he has kids. he wants to have kids. give it two years and i think i’m ready. little raymis. before any asshole tries to come at me with please don’t reproduce bullshit, actually, i am mega-maternal. my shit is quite together. yeah i am a case right now but that’s cos i am a planner, long term planning right now. in two years i will be ready to fly a jet or something.
i bought this for my outfit for tomorrow. a onesie jumper. the last one. i also bought a red flower clutch rose styled for me, that pink hat (the reason i went in there in the first place) and a nice red silk shirt. oh a khaki skirt too. i decided not to spend $200 on one dress instead i spent $160 on an assortment of things. mini-panic attack at the cashier averted. that and the table (the only thing i want to spend time with right now) this month no more blowing money.
this is the orig moment when i saw kelly bundy. now this lighting, not too sure about it. i am kinda digging my older sunken eyes (hahah thats so funny to say in my head or to declare) and the older seasoned thing. sometimes only though.
arrived like this. i stopped a streetcar today. it’s true ask my colleague. it was on king street and i was going to jay walk (that’s right) and i had no problem waiting for the streetcar to pass me before breaking the law but he full on halts it to check me out, i am always prepared for this shit, you slink into fuckin owning it sultry cosmopolitan reading self entitled oblivious mode, cannot be avoided. don’t say you wouldn’t.
texican heaven. i almost stole the hot sauce, i would if it weren’t so vinegary. the service pissed me off. miss-communication is all.my dad wanted to avoid a scene so he walked over to the kitchen and asked why my shrimp was taking so long. they decided to put it altogether for some reason. i sat for half an hour watching my dad eat his soup.
after the glory what was cafetaste’s high end onion soup, looking at this abomination was humorous. dad how was it? i’m tracy morgan I CAN’T EAT THIS I’MA FOODIE! tracy morgan voice. halarious.
come to the hideout tomorrow and bid on me and check back here (here, down here, right here)(HERE) in an hour or so i’ll link to my mission statement on who i think my biggest competition is and what i have to offer. the american is considering bidding by phone for me. do they do that? i’ll ask.
my arm needed attention. it was a battle making it out to brunch. we were disasters. are you guys ready yet? lucas goes, well, melodie isn’t wearing pants. i screeched at darius that they weren’t even ready yet meanwhile i was a hangover stoner mess of myself and he’s like she is SO ready i said no she’s not those aren’t pants they’re tights without any underwear (fake out) the entire house was talking about melodie and her pantslessness. it made the funhouse news.
while i am looking more and more like revenge of the nerds and garth. melodie has also been doing a revenge of the nerds laugh lately. i have noted it twice and pointed it out once. the second time confirmed the first time she laughed like that.
i made it in time to the bank then the dealer then the lcbo had to hoof it a bit a ways back to roncesvalles (worst word to remember how to spell ever and i have to use it a lot cos i live near it aghhhh i will move out of parkdale just because of this word i swear i will) in order to make it to era in time, brian said he had to be out of there by 4.30 i wasn’t going to make it. finally a cab. oh right i had to go home to check my bank account because the sketchy atm in that variety store said i didn’t have enough money. so i accepted a payment i had been lagging on and i so totally had triple enough to cover the cost of this table prior to accepting that payment that ate up my precious table time. be wary of that sketchy atm in the variety store at the corner of roncess/queen.
i needed to have this table right a-fucking-way. a cab rolls by hurry and we make it as brian is checking outside the door i lower the window and yell at him HIIIIIIIIII YAY!!!!!!! i am totally amazing like that. i bet he didn’t think i was coming back.
last night, jeremy invited me to his restaurant for a private panel of feasting and judging. i sat with real food elitists and man were they ever critical, honest, harsh maybe. i said clearly i do not know what i am talking about here as i became the yes girl of the table saying that everything was perfect. signe langford and jamie really impressed me and i think i charmed them too.
they wanted our professional opinions. even though i am green in the culinary world, my opinions matter here because i am an actual regular cafetaste customer. i’ve brought dates here, lining jeremy’s pockets whilst consuming everything off the menu.
got buzzed and immediately felt at ease. i hadn’t eaten all day. i was in an odd mood. i went out with grief. some bad news yesterday. these people cheered me up.
signe is marvelous. i asked if she ever gets (compared to) janeane garofalo? she said no. i said well you totally so do. she’s also quick like her, smart, sassy.
nice to look at too. jamie, i asked him if he likes tim burton (totally being dressed like a tim burton character) and he said no, matter of factly. not even knowing who tim burton even fucking is! i reject that reality.
trout cakes. amazing. not actual presentation. will get two of them with kozlik’s mustard. the maple one. signe says the garlic one is even hotter than triple hot which is the one we have.
they tore this to pieces. figuratively. wait is that right? this is when i chimed in most as i’ve had this before. twice. no one talks shit about my Braised Beef w/ VQA Jus – Slow-braised local beef in red-wine jus, atop house-crafted breads w/ onions & garlic. so totally nothing wrong with it at all AT ALL do you hear me signe?
i told those two know-it-alls that i am never inviting them over for dinner. ever. i bet melodie would love the shit out of them though. she would have loved sitting there fighting with them. i wished she was there fighting with them because i was such an in shock pussy i was rendered almost mute. though i did have some heavy shit on my mind at the time.
cozy place. perfect couple date place. jeremy what a perfect cliche you created. smart guy. i remember you said you stood on the shoulders of giants when melodie and i were singing your sommelier praises, you study the best therefore you are. same with these people you invited. myself included.
send me these photos jamie! right meow. i told them that i meowed at jeremy as a freudian slip and now all we do is make fun of me for it now, i mean meow. i didn’t meow in a come hither way just totally meowed in response to something jeremy said i was barely paying attention to. what’s that meow? you know the cop meowing scene from super troopers right? google it i’ve had enough of this.
bread pudding will just not leave me the fuck alone will it? it’s super good, in the presentation section i said my grandma would love it. it’s boring and sweet, the food snobs naturally liked it, even though jamie isn’t into dessert.
i wore that shirt for my dad. he asked me about it when i showed him the folder of pictures from my bro/mine’s last birthday. jamie thought it was the face of a cat and arms or something. it’s john and yoko haha. signe and i are in love.
a cab driver tried to convince me to let him drive me to burnoutington. i was like um no thanks i can just get the train i’m already on my way to catching. why would i want to be trapped in an expensive shitty car ride with a creepo when i could be alone baked on a train. i wouldn’t.
the lawyer i used to see had an email account that went out as NIGHT TRAIN. you can guess what it stands for. he sent emails to clients before realizing. such a bafoon. uber uber hot though.
this has got to be the cruelest most unflattering photo ever. how terrible of this magazine, that is not cool. you have revealed the trash of your intentions, anti-team player. what magazine is this? rag mag. worse than the sun.
then i looked over and noticed the man. just gave him a glance. went back to taking pictures of myself/snow pile and my grandmother’s old retirement residence that was $5k a month to take care of her. my grandfather left it in his will, his wishes were for her to be cared for, so loving, leaving that money aside, a grand gesture i think. such a way to go for her. luxury. she thought she was living in england, no, literally. and we played along to keep it mellow. some people get trapped in the terror of their memories when they have dementia. my grandmother was in a wonderful headspace, she thought my grandfather was still alive at war, in france, she offered my brother a double gin (her room had no bar) and she said she had just gotten off the phone (her room had no phone either) and she always always always complimented my white teeth. even my ex’s too. very smart woman. went to cambridge. looked like queen elizabeth. total lady, manners, class, intellect. great style as well. melodie wears a lot of her things that don’t fit me right. go sheila white.
i’ve never arrived so late before. i really didn’t want to be at my place. i wanted to be with my dad. he is pretty bummed right now. it’s a small unit so it’s an impact definitely. dad said he sleeps better at night knowing i’m here.
when i got here i took off my coat and my dad went hey nice shirt! i had totally forgotten what i was wearing or who or what i was by this point so i looked down and went, oh right, yeah, haha i wore this for you. and we hugged. my aunt alison was here too. nice to see her. i emulated the entire outfit for my dad because he is living in the past forever and so am i.
my mom was pissing me off with her picture taking but more so i was getting pissed off by my dad and brother overreacting about it so i said here take MY picture just one with my camera now please and blammo, a picture that says ten thousand words.
thanks for much for being so sweet on Saturday at boot camp! i imagine, since you were around the corner with james and then came bounding out to say hi to me, that he said (with a little James disdain) something along the lines of, are you going to say hi to your fan club over there? ha. but then you grabbed me and showed me around like the vanna white of gyms and kept the mood light. i stopped being nervous and just tried to destroy myself on the stations. and seeing you full on break into your posing for the photog was mindblowing.
at the end i wanted to give you a big hug, let you know not all girls hate you, but i decided to send you a gayballs email like this instead. because i was sweaty at the time. and also, like, boundaries.
went back today for my consultation and i’m 6% too fat. challenge accepted. i know watching your progress will keep me inspired. uhm, the first time you did the bike did you do it the whole way through? because my trainer apparently thought i was going to die at 8 minutes and turned down the difficulty level. OH WELL.
keep being you and see you around! i’ll be the one with googly hero worship eyes!
here i am preparing for the jungle what is known as brunch. brunch is a sacred event, it’s like non-religious hipster’s answer to church. checking out the party statues from the night prior. casual above board contact exchanging, big time hook-up potential. though it doesn’t happen really cos everyone is a disaster and by everyone i mean me.
showing my definition. my definition. my definition is this. oh superbowl sunday. this morning when al came to easy he goes and do we have to drink all over again really? ugh i know.
last night, total total cow. today, whippet. W T F. also aunt flo fo sho today so i’ll be a skeleton all week leading up to the date auction of the century. i am stoked about the dress i’m wearing. that i haven’t gotten yet but i sent an email and we’re good to go. yes i am making the dumbest face here no i don’t care anymore. i think the secret’s out on me being a real person and all.
i had a loonie in my pocket when i was at metro last week and i saw the gumball machine and i needed to buy one of those miniature hats. well i needed it before i made the loonie connection. wildcats are from what state, city? meh. alright lets do last night now.
saturday night partying is difficult. the majority of people blow their load on friday night. idiots. so they stay home tweeting about the tv they’re all watching sucking their thumbs. it’s ok i do it all the time too. saturday nights i’m usually as smart as a bag of sand and just as cognizant but i knew i had to be good for my bredren advhaus community.
melodie and i played records while lucas went back home to get more stuff. mostly melodie took over while i sulked in that suspended pod and when she spoke to me she was like can you hear everything i’m saying coming directly at you in that chair? i was like yes now where is the opposite equivalent to this chair where i can’t hear anything that you are saying? she laughed at that hahah we had a huge fight before we went out. nothing will break our stupid relationship ever no matter how much we tell each other off i think we are addicted to the drama.
also living with people, from both sides, is a tricky thing, well can be. we’re pretty good at it though. we are totally a unit and maybe sometimes the lines get blurred like yesterday when, both of our cycles aligning, i didn’t have the patience to take a food order over the phone because i had a million things on my mind and i got home and eventually it turned into a fight and i said i am not your fucking wife. there’s being there for each other and then there’s not being there for each other? people get used to the extra hand, the third wheel. i’m still a loner looking out for my own too right. anyway under normal circumstances i would have done the deed but i didn’t feel like it.
people get stressed when they have to plan events, they want it to go smoothly and perfectly and then everyone takes it out on each other and flips out kind of go crazy and then everyone makes up once the dust settles and gets obliterated to blow off steam.
afrim for you and you alone i hope the steelers win. i know nothing about either nor care i only want to curl up into a sleeping dog position on the corner of a couch with my chianti and not blink once during commercials.
i am accepting turning 28. there’s always some asshole waiting to tell me how old looking i am. usually some no-fucking-body. big whoop i am an icon, from a blog. there are at the very least one hundred raymi copycat bloggers out there copping my style.
and from the loser ripping on my hair, saying it looks candy floss? yes it does because it’s soft as clouds. the ends need to be trimmed but that’s all, and i won’t trim them because i am obsessed with length. in spring i’ll trim the ends. anyway though you are a fucking loser thank you for your slags my life is amazing, try to make yours too then you won’t feel the need to slag someone else’s dream.
nubile flirty temptress. i can tell half dudes won’t buy it or fall for it so i don’t bother but the suckers for this look oh man, let me at ‘em, easy easy marks. i don’t even flirt i just grin and smile and soak in their googly eyes.
this doesn’t even look sexual. though to one of the members of the PBC who has a pantyhose addiction, bingo! we preached of our pbc rules and administration. hazing is partying in drapes corner (my room) and you must live in parkdale.
those are my hangover too lazy to fix face makeup glasses. typically the more fucked up i feel the more i compensate by dressing up nicer like i am going on a job interview. so if you see me looking like a million bucks that means i am really, really drunk.
or i am trying to sweet talk my way through airport security with these glasses on after an all nighter writing/blogging spree. people who wear glasses pretty much get to give up on keeping their faces young and pretty looking cos they get to hide behind glasses all the time if they want to not like the rest of us. way to go four eyes. melodie just said i am such a schoolyard bully.
i directed this shot and said ok we’re going for munchkin but i was so hungover stupid that i meant someone who lives in a village that looks like the smurfs with thatched roofing.
ok i have to go now and make my face look less like a scary ghoul.
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Hi Raymi,
It was a pleasure meeting you this afternoon. As promised, here is the description of the piece you purchased this afternoon: 1940’s painted metal medical side table or type writer table with a drop leaf top. American. Its not the most colorfully written portrayal of the piece, but I’m sure you can embellish it a bit.
bought some weird clementine vodka. flirted with the clerk because i am in love. not with him though. invited him to our party tonight all the same in front of a cop who raised his eyebrows at me and i gave him a come on over look. it’s hailing and snowing, it’s one of those nights i can tell. this vodka is a subtle advertisement for ikea.
in the car picking this up from cheese boutique i had one of those my life is retarded moments. it was awesome. seriously. i was in a castle last night and tonight my best friends and i are going to dominate an entire bar with our favourite jams in our favourite neighbourhood with this platter and it all started as a joke i made once about our parkdale mansion. it’s like disney make a wish foundation forever. just think up something dumb and blam.
somehow i have to make the steelers win the superbowl tomorrow. you have time to get a platter made for that eh, afrim is a wizard. by the way, no biggie or anything but i am chums with the number one chevalier in the world. mhmm.
WORLD! aw see my glass bottle. that was five dollars. i spent five dollars on a fuckin’ miniature glass bottle because it reminded me of the upstairs bathroom at cedar grove. that was completely normal of me.
it’s a mess just like us. afrim was like you should have seen me trying to put this thing together i gave up like three times! the floorplan melodie made was oh so detailed. melodie challenged afrim. well, i am not surprised at all that girl is tough.
curtains place is what half of the chalet (livingroom) is called (it has a furry shag rug and fireplace, it is a chalet). one day i walked through five curtain/partitions of the house and totally forgot what i had walked to the other side of the house for. it happens everyday. see that thing by the lamp? yep, it’s a fountain. a running water fountain is in our livingroom. where is the selby?
