the reg cast of characters always in attendance. i think the parkdale boys club are in a the outsiders war with adventurehouse which is awkward for me as i am the president of the PBC and some weird stepwife/sister of advhaus. no, advhaus is more of a triad but anyway i am displaced from it now. i am giving up the tickle trunk.
i have a long way to go. but i’m doing lots of tricep work now. i’ll make a video of the backwards table. or maybe i’ll show you three work outs in a one minute instructional video? cool. i want my nailpolish back now paddy!
fun afternoon. we were both pretty hung. isn’t that how she goes? tell me some arbitrary random future date event, i assure you something sloppy will just coincidentally come up the eve of it.
i like to faux gallop with my robe or pretend to be a monk or i am delivering a message of the utmost importance please give way. omg i want to get in a larp showdown.
my cloak of hangover shields me from onlookers. i wore this in oldnavy in burlington and pretended i was a zippy employee spirit squad i dunno to assimilate with their pop rainbow mannequins, like i was supposed to be there. i realize some people are not geared for the raymi. preparation is key.
send more jewels. pretty much if i see something now that sparkles, i buy it. my anklet broke as we came out of the brazenhead yesterday and i was cross at the moment so i detangled it from my wedge and dramatically, angrily whipped it into a sewer grate and said nothing. ten minutes later long forgotten off on another topic closer to home i said, did you like when i threw my anklet into that grate? yeah he laughs at me. i go, did it make it all the way down? (square inch squared holed sewer, carnival skills required-type) no ha ha.
this’ll be my walking around outfit. ahh i remember now i hung out with jenny again this night and that’s why my hair was all greasy, from dancing all day and not bothering to wash it. i need to get that platinum powder stuff from sephora. my mom and i went to the burlington mall location and they didn’t know what the hell we were talking about. i imagine that location wouldn’t stock this product? dumb cos there’s lots of blondes in burlington, it’s pretty aryan.
amazing. can’t remember if i posted these? i think i did. ok here’s more up to date stuff from my blackberry. i’ll be doing the rest of the j.beth jam when we get back from the sticks. we’re going up north. pumped.
we put our heads together, ok, how do we get out of this? ok you have never done this before? now is not the time for a cigarette there’s shit leaking everywhere. meanwhile people were just parked. staring. like a long ass northern drive (i am going to jinx myself here now) wait on the road. it was like falling down level scary. michael douglas was SMOKIN’ in that flick.
nothing but red lit-up cherries. we shouldered it, linda was shaking, people were purposely putting their back-ends in our way thinking we were just trying to bump ahead like how boston drivers do, they’re lunatics, but no asshole trying to kill us, our hazards are on and i had my arm out of the window like a jurassic jungle voyage. then the engine would overheat again. we did this 4 times, five minute intervals, one bitch in particular was like, i can’t let you in there isn’t anywhere to go (totally room to move actually!) i hissed OUR ENGINE IS SMOKING BLACK SMOKE MOVE!!! meanwhile a limo taxi is ignoring us FUCKING PEOPLE YOU ARE TERRIBLE HUMANS. so we weaved over to another shoulder. the grid lock was due to a collision as well as construction, bla bla brutal. ok i am bored of this now.
took them to milestones to get wrecked. that morning my brother’s truck overheated too. our canadian vehicles aren’t used to the heat and react accordingly. suffice it to say they were hell bent on enjoying themselves despite the hiccups. me? i don’t fight with the universe and if the universe is saying you might blow up in a car maybe i should get the heck out of there. sorry it’s coming back to me now. my brother is a fire safety tech so he cautioned that the engine could erupt if it was smoking and we were pouring coolant in the thing i don’t know anything about cars.
my hair appointments take at minimum, 3 hours. my roots have to process for a long time. they gave me a treatment, two maybe. this one thing fills all the cracks in the road of your hair follicle and seals it. my hair is always like feathers afterward. brennen is a hot hair god.
turkey wrap with side of jerk. they mix their jerk with honey. easily duplicatable. i am over their wings and since unhealthily switching to deep fried battered from grilled, there is no point. we make way better bbq jerk chicken here.
yum starving! then i threw onions on this and we broiled them all in the oven cos we ran out of propane,this was bbq one, we’ve done this exact meal again already using bbq the full way through, got a new tank. also this is how i burnt my arm. it’s not healing, maybe that’s cos i keep reapplying polysporin, do i have to just let it alone, air it out? i am an ignoramus.
they’re way too big for me now i’m shoving them into my stomach here so you can’t tell. yes i realize the title no longer makes sense. no i don’t care. i couldn’t find one pair of highwaisted short shorts at the mall in burlington. i have a few more places up my sleeve. please recommend a secret spot if you know one. toronto short shorts watch update: still in the dark ages. i got my haircut by brennen today. i had a bit more breakage in the back, just a teeny bit ughh summer ponytails have to watch it. so now it’s some weird 80’s layered mop top. i don’t care anymore, my hair is a hat, it’s its own blog. whatever.
what’s cooking tonight we feel like trouble. i was going to hang with the girls at midnight madness but i got the tireds and i am lucky i dodged that getting sick bullet so i better not push it plus last night’s fiasco was one for the shit show minx jinxed books, i should probably cut my losses now. pfft as if.
maybe i am just finally letting it sink in that i am home now and life is not straddling a palm tree while three shirtless cuban harlequin romance novel models slingshot daquiris up at me. aye carumba.
haha in these pics you will be able to detect my deterioration over the course of the night. normally we hang just once per visit. this time twice. after a patio fiesta i’ll be back with the goods. plus her little sister too. so look out.
so yesterday was interesting. just when one drama bleeds into another and you think it’s all over you hit gridlock traffic due to collision and construction and the engine overheats and commences smoking as you’re rushing in to the city to catch your favourite band of which you have tickets for. we were on the shoulder for an hour, listening to the traffic report and trying to time it precisely for when someone might let us squeeze by. i was disgusted by a good 3000 people yesterday, no good samaritans. repugnant. i don’t have time right now to blog blast about it and there’s no point, people are selfish assholes, end of story. it was terrifying and it has put things into perspective, namely, do i want to be charged for manslaughter for launching a folk hipster over the balcony at massey hall for sitting in our fucking seats by the time we finally arrive for the encore catching 1.5 songs of the entire show. the usher chick points to “a seat” and is like this is it but 5 rows down and over 5, to where those guys are sitting. i look at her. fleet foxes are playing. everyone is starting to HATE US for simply existing. where is a megaphone please?
EXCUSE ME ALL OF YOU GO TO FUCKING HELL!
i say can you DO this for me, point at her usher shirt. she nervously tiptoes, afraid of the hipster hissing wave. i say they are in our seats get them out, this goes back and forth one guy goes “ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” gesturing to the amazing band and performance and us ruining HIS experience in MY SEAT! then she looks at me and says well maybe you should have got here sooner? i say WE WERE IN A CAR ACCIDENT! yes because i like showing up to show encores, that’s my jam. that’s my thing. i really fucking like it. she goes i’m sorry i’m doing the best i can here (NO YOU ARE NOT!) and i would have to look at everybody’s tickets and well.. i just say forget it and go back up to the door where we stand. we spent $262 to stand. WICKED. bullshit. here are four tickets, there are four seats, do your job and move those people. you’re too wimpy to? why are you an usher here then????? we were on the wait list for these tickets for MONTHS every week teacher would receive updates as to their status and would we get them. you care so much about us getting them then why won’t you plunk us down in our damn seats. i blame toronto’s hostile concert environments. i hate sitting shows anyway but fuck, what a piss off. after all that.
then more internet abuse and slander and lies and don’t you worry a tidal wave of acknowledgment will certainly be on the way for that garbage, if i get bored enough. the handful of trolls i have files on will be dealt with BY POLICE on monday. examples are being made i don’t care if i turn out to be some retarded online bullying PSA i am saying no more of this. i work my ass off for my brand, no one should have to live in fear of every time an article is published on me or i write one of horrible stalkers coming out of the woodwork to slander you in every thread, just sitting and waiting (HOW AM I THE BAD GUY IN THIS EQUATION HERE?) everything i do for my look is intentional and HARD WORK and for it to be besmirched by cows who say i do this or do that or think this is preposterous. you know i spend time with the same like TEN PEOPLE ONLY. i am very guarded and so it’s quite fascinating that hundreds and thousands of people appear to “know” me so deeply and how i am in the real world. it’s sick. i feel for celebrities, i get it very very bad but nowhere near the same as their harassment. i’m sorry you can only feel like a strong person when you are pointing out all of raymi the minx’s life flaws, criticizing her every which way. you are not special. you are every wet blanket in the room at an event i go to, pre-judging me. i am used to this. it’s sad, but i have been used to this since kindergarden. nothing’s changed. i have, you haven’t.
and now if you’ll excuse me my roots are growing in and it’s not the 80’s last i checked.
summer sales are awesome i love quantity! fleet foxes tonight waiting for my brother to get here then we go back to the city and catch up with teacher. pumped. hope i don’t fall asleep in my seat i’m super ADD it’s at massey hall, whenever i see a sit down show i get sleepy plus their songs are lullabies. darius is going too. i saw my other favourite band last week and now it’s my other equally favoured top band this week no wait that was this week? whirlwind.
my hair was totally retarded this night. didn’t care. i had a barette headache. i searched for a jeweled clip but couldn’t settle. i bought three rings and a dainty heart necklace. the next night i found my barette.
mural in the hotel’s resto lounge, fourth of july. they called me lady gaga. loved us. were so nice. gave us a jug of sangria to go which we drank none of.
my brooke hogan outfit. i was racing back to the hotel marching into palm trees and sweating and this guy in a sweet ride goes BROOKE HOGAN! i stopped and went huh? oh! yeah! hahahaha! laughing with him. he dug it.
we kept the mirror tv on an oldies channel the entire time, there was a twilight zone marathon one day. mesmerizing. i love the lull of old music and cinema, their voices and dialect. fancy.
my mom photo attacks everyone. please don’t blame me for the order, it’s facebook. the woman also refuses to email me them i have to get them myself and i’m sure facebook distorts photos when you download.
something about mary was also filmed here. raymi 2002 tidbit: the name of my short-lived (3 month) radio show was called THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT RAYMI. hahaha. it was an hour long and fucking hilarious.
i spy a wicked bruise, a curb trip casualty knee graze and “the line” on my thigh (athletic toneage). mom got her own special white wine and then i got to hear the ten billionth exact same account of the first time she puked on red wine story. we gossiped about the juiciest shit this evening, very enjoyable evening, it was very windy and balmy and breezy. then i gave lois an intense half hour aquatic aerobic class.
then i got drunk on the last morning and stayed drunk all day and ditched the girls at one point to get into my own mischief. it was that bottle of champagne i found in the hallway. then i had a real bottle of one. it was a fairytale vacation.
mom rips off my entire style, here she is trying to wheel and deal me giving her my steve maddens. FUCK YOU! get your own shit. so the last day they went across town to the OTHER steve madden store so she could jock me. pfft. it’s cos i got such a great deal and could walk in them. we have the same tolerance and lack thereof of heels so when we find a pair it’s a big deal.
she hadn’t seen this dress i bought and eyes lit up holy shit. lois was like yup, get it. i regret passing up that amazing purple one. that store was aggravating me with its obnoxious music and when a diva dude employee pounced on me for having all these items in my room cos i was sick of waiting and being ignored by the one clerk i said fuck it and took the onus on myself to get shopping done in the middle of an anxiety attack no less. i said if you have rules you must be around to enforce them (6 things at a time? time waster!) and by the way, your customer service here leaves much to be desired. rude! the other girl immediately and mysteriously became overly nice to us after that while we browsed the jewelry and sunglasses. i liked her to begin with it was this other lazy sloth that was unrighteously snotty and navigating the understaffed retail vortex, refusing to be of aid. i like to in and out it, i don’t like obstacles. employees who mess with that are a bother. let me help you be better: piss off unless you are helping me.
missing the good summertime vibe. it made me wonder why we were sequestered in a cluster in the corner of the patio last night at emmas, why everyone just sits. i am on a social kick.
this is what my hater looks like in psychotic jesus preacher form. he was calling these poor women whores and hurling out babylonisms, they were humiliated then eventually turned over cos he wouldn’t go away. wish i was there at the time. mom captured it. she lives for these scenes.
he spoke through his puppet. how is this a constructive use of one’s time? hi i have mental problems come watch. gross. it’s fine until you get into someone’s grill.
lois has a natural little one anyway so it’s not necessary but lends an added elegance to one’s capture. i am an expert photo stylist for hire raymi@raymitheminx.com sometimes i have swarms of women surrounding me at parties, events, all learning my up and over the mountain trade secret double chin concealer while men look on boggle-eyed. we don’t care we want that movie star group shot and if one girl looks fugly then we don’t use the shot and if YOU are the one who fucks it up everyone hates you, warrantedly so. my mom deleted so many good ones of me off her camera, guess why.
italian dinner night. we were starving and snippy, trying to decide on best place and they all compete throwing out smooth criminal claims about free wine and certain free appetizers so then we tried to work them over too, using my business card and informing them slyly that lois owns her own high end italian restaurant bla etc.
we ordered off menu and annoyed the hell out of them. the waiter said the chefs in the back would refuse to plate arugula with my simple spicy tomato pasta and prawns. he could tell we were the oh, you think you’re telling me how it’s done fare. lois understood though and said yeah i know those old guys, stubborn oldworld italian men. one time a guy fell all over himself flipping out over ice cubes in white wine meanwhile it was blazing hot summer and shitty wine at that. we get it you are the most italian person for miles. in the end they just did it anyway, turns out it was the server who thought he was battling for all of rome. he kinda was.
you don’t fight in paradise. i said that last night to lois and a dude at emma’s backporch. cos he inquired about strangling my mother at fort lauderdale airport. oh, it wasn’t a strangle exactly, more of a good squeeze. i felt the veins and arteries of her neck and said NOW THAT’S ENOUGH. lois just ignored us like it was normal. i dug up the last mini bottle of champagne from my laptop carry-on bag, downed a glug, passed her the bottle and she chugged it too. then lois. ARIBA! ahhahaa. i lasted nine days nonviolently. this guy said he lasted 3 days with his sister in europe. anyway, we never really bickered except for moments when i would have to talk extremely louder and faster to be heard.
i am faking it here. three women trying to get out of a hotel room takes three times longer. i didn’t have my camera but i still wanted to capture my outfit. after telling my mom NO and hurry! when shewould try to take pics of the same useless shit, only so we could get out cos the agoraphobia was getting to me so finally out on the street i am ready for photos and she’s like NO because i just blasted her about taking pictures when she wanted to. this is a picture of WHO WON THAT WAR IN THE END! that’s right. capital this guy.
ok BRB i’ll start a fresh one this is confusing me and are leftovers from a prior upload. i have a new batch with brand new outfits and hairstyles. i don’t care if you don’t or do want to see. this is my blog and since i’ve been home it feels like the entire universe is conspiring to fuck with my good mood and ‘tude i REFUSE to let your evil and bitterness in. going over my memories and giving myself the time to go through these pictures finally is my personal treat. there’s a vacation going on in my head still.
the naybe savant rainman kid is here chatting with my dad. he is obsessed with the cat and just let himself in to see him. fuck do they ever talk about the lawn forever. they are also wearing the same glasses. waiting for my brother to arrive. dad just brought the cat out he’s not happy ahahaha. this kid is rich as fuck cos he does everyone’s lawn on the street. i love suburban random drop-ins. ok rocky is happy now. giving my brother and dad and linda their matching I’M IN MIAMI BITCH shirts.
