first up we have casie kasem brilliant blog peer hyper-active monster competitor (hyper-active competitor not blog competitor, we only pretend to be in competition to fuck with you guys) with/of/by yours truly. i knew she could hack the motion room. james put her through it. think she loved it too. i yelled out at one point SHE LOVES TO BE TOLD. ahh it was super fun working out together i got a contact high going through these photos again.
i love doing the ladder. i pride myself on my speed, co-ordination, agility and hyper-activeness. i am like a hamster in a wheel, i can do drills forever.
bear walk (my terminology) the ladder. i am better at this now by far. i just love being fit. not that i was pathetic at this to start but my upper body strength left much to be desired not to mention all of my fat storage goes right to my arms.
an actual move you start doing what i am doing (it is not required to pose as gracefully though if you want to stand like a sloth then by all means) and then you lunge into a box and work your way down the ladder like how casie is demonstrating. yesterday when i worked out with april and britt at tmr we were doing some stuff with the football hurdles (?) and we timed it to look like a cascading synchronized waterfall of hot babes coming down the turf. i think we have something here.
i am neurotic about my form and keeping my core tight as all gym rats aspire and obsess over. you want to master the movement not to just get through it but to get results from it.
kash taught me a great trick for my carpal tunnel (left wrist ganglion cyst blob)(ew i know right) you do abc’s, a b c d through the whole alphabet flicking your wrist in an octogonal isolated movement and it loosens up the tightness in your wrist. helps me do my push ups which i am obsessed with mastering.
there was just a little bit of dying. that’s when the endorphins flood you and you keep going and going. i am definitely addicted to this work out life of mine now my life can be falling down around me and i am shielded from it from all the do-good being a work out machine has done for my overall happiness state of being. it also tastes better than brunch.
this is fun, like a compass, side step on bounce off then the other spazz has a go then you go then they go forever and ever and ever. fun. works your core and thigh backs, probably other things i forget.
sometimes my legs look so peggy i feel very endeared by them like aw, there goes long legs skinny i bet she reads books and says super awkward things to strangers in coffeeshops then goes home and eats oatmeal and is weird like the chick from the shining.
reminds me of those bubble toys you buy for 50 cents that blast up to the ceiling when you flip them inside out. reverse convex? i can never remember concave or convex. great here cometh the nerds.
my next “thing” will be to pretend like i am really smart. maybe i shouldn’t be telling you this i should just BE smarter and then you’d just notice on your own by seeing photos of me um, in a lab coat.
love these balls. don’t move the sand within them. keepsarms long and straight out not bent (you’ll get bette at it), if you bend you are wasting your time. the straighter (the harder it is) they are, the more you work your triceps. don’t make me tell you twice.
abs check. those teeny pants are x-small so they contain my love handles yet also highlight them if i try to wear them like casually on my hips, no go there brah it’s highwaisted all the goddamn way. meanwhile, casie was born with a six pack.
just noticing our tattoos here looks good. one time i said to james omg shut up you’re distracting me something or other and he’s like the only thing that’s distracting is your tattoos. why am i such a glutton for punishment is it because i am a selfish asshole? likely.
maybe we’ll revisit these another day. i like them there it’s like one day you will be mine, i’ll be blasting through futuristic universal soldier air push ups fuck that old fashioned floor over there. floor, more like snore.
you take turns pulling back and forth i was like um this is too easy then i pulled with all my might and pulled casie right to the ground and then we laughed our heads off.
i can see through time here. i get the same rush i get from spicy food at the motion room and i let everyone know when i’m goin’ cosmic. it’s great. reality is for the sufferer. i choose la la land always.
this move kills your back/abs, burns them, which means works. i am starting to look like an alien in the torso. love it. that’s what the twilight guy said about how much he worked out for his role where he took his shirt off and he looked like patrick bateman in the machinist (yes i know i’m combining two movie references in one here i am bipolar thank you very much). haha what the hell is his real name? anyway you sort of don’t get my point and anyway who cares really, it’s sunday you’re probably a mess right now or doing family stuff.
joseph had to hold one of my legs for me it is hard for me to do it alone i mean i can do it i’m just lazy and on top of that always had struggle with straightening my freakishly long legs.
seriously, does anybody really have to see this? i give my colleague (photog) free-reign of editing photos and selecting whatever he likes cos i’ve lightened up a bit on the control-freakness i suffer from slightly also it frees up more of my time for pot smoking and drawing pictures of moonbeams but anyway, once in awhile he lets these grotesque ones slip through and i winder if he is either sniffing glue or fucking with me. i just matrix’d* the fourth wall fyi.
*the scene when they come to save morpheus and one of them helicopter machine guns out the windows of the building while keanu run dives dodges the agent’s bullets that’s what i did to the fourth wall. i also must re-watch this scene for accuracy’s sake if i am going to be some big shot perfectionist movie-referencer now.
totally so is too. must be nice to have a job where you get to scream at people all day long until they crack and then they get you back by doing the plank for an extra 30 seconds. cool justice, not. should we bring not back?
if our plane crashes like alive on a mountain i am happy to know that i won’t be chosen to be eaten. ugh barf. well maybe my ass but definitely not my chicken leg.
also any of you new years eve resolution social media fatties wanna come work out with me and casie please do get in touch, don’t be shy now. you will love the motivational views we provide and then you can just work out on your own there and get hot for beach come summer. you know it always sneaks up on you like that. also, look at me. i’ve been on the results 1 on 1 program for 4-5 weeks now? this month i am totally going to lean out. shit works and i am way stronger, more flexible. yesterday during squats oh man i was so egotistical in the brain it was an accomplishment i feel. i like bendy. you know who else likes bendy? um, wendy?
The thing I like about Raymi is her total refusal to logically develop ideas and sentence-structure and punctuation. If I read some “witty” piece in the NEW YORK TIMES by some metrosexual jerkoff who spends more on a lunch at Pitti than I …spend on my dentist in a year, the deal is done in 2 minutes, I get my supercilious chuckle and that’s that. Where’s the fun in it?
Whereas if you struggle through Raymi’s stream of consciousness you have to THINK, you have to reconstruct meaning like an archeologist in Egypt looking for the only unlooted grave of a repeatedly raped house-pet belonging to a pharaoh, and it’s a real feeling of achievement to extract some MEANING from all the cat-poo discoloured by time and by things you’d rather not want to think about, to arrive at how an eternally photogenic basket-case practiced her culture several thousand seconds ago at the Dawn of this, the Kill-by-Twitter Age.
andrew took me to bohmer last nite. seeing people face to face for the first time when you have been speaking over email for a year is kind of a trip. this is the vanilla crem brulee a couple scottish shortbread cookies and this perfectly mellow strawberry compote.
my outfit was cute. wore my desert trek clarks. koala bear cuddly shoes that’s how i feel when i wear them and with these pants especially, it’s one of my oh i know how to dress outfits.
superhero stance. if you rest a finger near the end of my hair length you can visualize how i’m going to look with my hair a foot longer. prepare yourselves for it ladies. bra is sequined from burlesque days, polka dotted like shirt too. it all works out in the end.
post cafe taste with darius. that’s a gluten free beer. is it any good or the same mel and others inquired. it’s totally the same yet totally different. uh, ok thanks nice review?
eating the life. such great people watching there and not to beat the dead horse what is everything i ever talk about but i was not only getting stared at triple takes and rubbernecked but, please tell me why this is happening to me more frequently these days? is it the check out scenery combined with my hair?
hair blow out at 3. maybe movie with superjew or just keep it parkdale for the night. the workout at the motion room with casie today was wicked fun and she impressed everyone huge time. can’t wait to see our photos.
hair looks cray cray against the platinum wig. note to self don’t do that in the future. look what some cuckoo did to my painting at my second art show. sabotage. over a broken heart no doubt.
ok i have to get my act together. a friend is in town who i’ve never met. he became my friend when i left my ex at the same point his mother died and we bonded over our, well his grief and my new crazy world. i am still demented from last nite. just trying to get through winter man.
hahhahaehheh. i don’t know why this is funny to me. well, actually i do it’s because my brain has a foot in it right now. a party foot. from last night. i got kicked in the head by that party. oh well. now i can wind down til sunday.
here i am doing an impression of a zombie at the motion room. lucas and i fight over impression or impersonation. i just think impersonation is an inelegant harder word to say therefore, lose. even though impression has dual-meanings. my impression of you being you are an asshole, one example. as well as, a stamp impression on documents. oh just so many ways to use this word i am in a confusion vortex now. too much brain expenditure, white. i’m sorry but this is just the shit that goes down in adventuretown. we held try-outs for al last night. he passed but just barely. darius and i walked up to him at mitzi’s and someone makes an adventurehouse reference and this guy smoking with al was like what’s that where’s that can i come!? i was like, um, no. but maybe? someday? first you have to get in with the parkdale boys club. omg why do i live in a world of make believe and everybody else gets to do reality at their desk, why oh why?
kash trained me yesterday for my first weights day. hahah jeff in the background, hilarious. that guy is going to hook me up with a sweet pair of shoes. i complimented his and he said he had to order them and was like i’ll get you a pair. yeah? for real? sure dude, thank you. then he started telling me different styles, black, hi-top, low. i want the ones you have. copying is fun.
she was fun to train with. i was like so what’s the deal with jock girls eh? did james prepare you for the running commentary what is raymi? she said yeah i read your blog i knew what to expect. my blog is personality practice before you get the real show.
i am an animal through in through, in fact, i actually meowed at jeremy at cafetaste last nite. i had a sip of wine or consumed something delicious and he was walking away but also talking and i just went meow instead of “mm hmm”.
WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO THAT FOR!? darius meowed for the rest of the night after that i died of embarrassment every time. i must be losing it. darius says it’s a freudian thing. like when the neurologist said yes she does have a nice body about me when he meant to say “yes it’s a nice bottle” about my green tea ice tea bottle. it happened in front of my dad. awkward. these are tales of legend.
this chick wants to gain weight. um, bizarro land much? what’s it like being uber posi-body image conscious kash, holy crapola. lets trade then i will dump 15 pounds of me on to you in a second no problem no hesitation.
resistance is key. i am bringing casie here tomorrow and we’re going to see which blogger is stronger. casie is a mentalcas(ie) like me so this is going to be brilliant. then april will be coming through the motion room. everyone who works at boom works out here too we are like a cult. join us. there’s also a thing where you go only once every 4 weeks if you can’t manage the location of the gym, you learn your weekly routines and do it at home and go in for progress reports and other whatever. that place is packing up eh, also the kid facility too i never saw so many babies in one day like i did yesterday and now i might have baby fever again.
i don’t know if that shirt should make me laugh or cry. it’s from tracey. steph and i refer to each other by our mom’s names when we do something particularly mom-like. it’s a good burn. omg you are so lori right now.
that bun is perfection incarnate. took me only 200 tries to get it right. i liked it so much i didn’t shower even though i coulda. when my roots come in i get obsessive about my hair being sleek and perfect and i can’t do princess bun head as much only special occasions and i have to stack my hair just so. superjew’s girl coworkers all know my blog and inquired if my hair was crispy in real life. my hair is not crispy it is virgin platinum and never gets processed twice. superjew said i dunno if it is she wouldn’t let me touch it, thus confirming their suspicions i freaked out NO tell them it’s not!! i can’t believe you would have to hesitate on whether my hair was soft or not total seinfeld moment i only said don’t touch my hair it’s expensive when he was resting his hand in it and stretching it painfully. you have to earn and learn to pet my hair properly. my hair is resilient and very strong, soft. if there was technology for me to blast out a stroke my hair virtual reality video clip i’d do it. i have a video on youtube how to acquire my perfect sloppy ponytail, i use zero hair products to obtain it.
2100 views wow. people will just watch anything eh? i am pretty adorable here and way too mellow. this is pre-weed raymi. i am so shy here and i no longer do this method (baby powder) as my hair is not greasy anymore because the texture has changed now that it’s platinum. the top of my head at the time of this video was all natural hair, roots were growing in and then i liked the light brown colour so i wanted the whole head to be that colour then i became obsessed with lightening it and transforming all of it to blond, more and more and here i am now. voila. planet jessica simpson.
i am addicted to this place. i miss them when (if) i miss a session. it’s like therapy. if i am pissed off about something i get to escape it and get out my rageahol.
i fear nothing. they are like ok now do this and i’m like BRING IT. if they told me i could perform a back flip i would probably believe them and do one.
i’m trash bag hung here. i hid it as hard as i could. james is going to blast me into outerspace for saying this and that’s fine. they guilt you big time. you shouldm’t be allowed to get away with shit.
what would you do if you found out your girlfriend was not a friend to you? you’d use it as an excuse to get polluted. she thought i wouldn’t mind. leslie says i should drag it out, public laundry. i dunno. she hasn’t responded to my email about it. maybe i over-reacted, maybe i didn’t.
my blog is popular because no one is doing it the way i do it. yeah it’s easy to take pictures of yourself that provoke and disgust, enchant, things you do that you take for granted that someone in the boonies might do once a year. i live like i am going to run out of living and i showcase all of it. when i spazz out in the living room to one of my favourite songs, “dancing” i am offering content for you. whether i am a good dancer or not isn’t the point. the point is i made a video of a girl, a girl that is a news item in your daily online world. you hate this girl. you love this girl. you just have to keep on her ass. she is constantly pissing you off and “saying things” and in this cyberspace dominated by people who think they’re interesting world, i stand out because i am already more interesting because i was here first. there is something about me. there isn’t something about everyone. i’m sure there are many who are more interesting than me (it is possible) but they’re not me. there is no number one reason why i am so popular. i had a self-reflection moment in elementary school when i was leader of the pack, i could see on some of my peer’s faces that they did not actually like me, but feared me, yet still followed. the fear of being left behind. or not knowing. not being apart of something big, there is that theory and then there is the other obvious one that hey, this is actually good and interesting material all rolled into one mega-opus of a blog and what the fuck is going to happen next? we must know. i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve been written about in the paper, linked to from blogs, featured, been paid to speak to people about this blog and blogging in general (which happily blows my mind) or just be a tap dancing monkey at events. it isn’t a popularity contest. i’ve just been better at un-cracking the code of being interesting forever.
this blog is a diary of my woody allen traits. (neurotic people are super fucking entertaining, no brainer there) it’s a narrative of a girl who is borderline empty, takes things for granted because of depression, is excruciatingly defensive and impulsive yet likeable. i use my looks to my advantage. i look different everyday. i am a trendsetter and forecaster and i have been influencing people since kindergarden. sometimes my intelligence is hyper-scary and cruel. i’m also better than a trainwreck, i’m a plane crash. one day i am courtney love, kurt cobain the next. my latest way to be is arrested development i hope i navigate my way out of it sometime soon.
Seriously, I’m thoroughly impressed with your individual style as a blogger. Some people might think it’s so simple, but it’s not. It’s authentic. I’m writing a book called FAKE that’s actually about authenticity and how hard it is to really be yourself these days. You seem to nail it and you also make it public. Refreshing.
I work for big corporate companies, as well as small ones. I self-contract as a writer, social media consultant and a life coach (had my own practice for five years). My point is that I study A LOT of blogs, both personal blogs and blogs for business. And I work with people on being authentic. You are a poster child for how I believe people should live – out loud and free.
One last question: what do you think is the number one reason your blog is so popular? Just curious how you would answer this as a blogger.
Sorry you thought that question was social media probing question, as if I wanted “free” info and sorry that you feel the need to be paid for such a genuine wonderful question.
Actually, I was looking at it from a life coaching stand point. I interview and ask a lot of questions to successful people and they are usually very happy to talk about their success in a pay-it-forward sort of way. I’ve never had anyone from corporate executives, to television and radio personalities mind when I asked them what they think makes them a success.
The reason I ask the question directly is more because of curiosity since I can make all kinds of assumptions but was wondering what your take was . For instance if you compare your blog to Dooce she is obviously a more skilled writer and photographer, but her slick presentation also gives off a sense of hiding and doesn’t have the same appeal as yours. I don’t feel as close to Dooce as I feel to you. I think your popularity has a lot to do with the fact that you are willing to be thoroughly and utterly human and authentic even if that means not looking pretty and not always writing the perfect blog or sentence. That, and you are consistent and offer tons of images. But if I had to nail it to one thing I would say you are willing to look bad, willing to keep it real, and in doing so the audience appreciates this more than a polished blog.
Good points about the photographer part. Didn’t mean to be “wickedly insulting” actually I can say for myself that there are many better writers than me, but many of them don’t have the balls to be simple and to the point.
I really didn’t mean it as an insult, more as an observation on how “polished” some bloggers appear and I struggle with that all the time. I know I’m not going to make it on my writing talent alone (in many areas) but I value my simplicity and ability to get to the core.
In my opinion I think speaking to the masses is much more important than being polished.
dooce is big cos she was fired for blogging and she rode that wave. it’s harder in canada. also i am a fuck up lazy and if i worked 5% harder than i already do i would be rolling in it more. 2011 is the year of raymbo.
I know dooce’s history … I also wondered if it was harder in Canada.
I think you are rockin’ it. I check you more than any other blogger – arguably I check you more than facebook, since I don’t check facebook daily. I also show you off to people – which I think is what differentiates you from Dooce. I tend to read Dooce and that’s it. I rarely tell people about Dooce, either because I assume they know, or because I just don’t find her as transparent, and thus, not as interesting.
Also, I realize that Raymi is your blog persona and you are Lauren. But you seem to make it feel like Raymi is you.
Not as in “shallow” at all…(is that what you thought?not sure…anyway)
In life coaching (and when we talk about social media consulting) the word transparent means “real and authentic” – people call me transparent all the time (in real life) because I talk about everything from my itchy ass to my crazy mother to the great sex I had….
yeah i am totally an open book. it’s just interesting to get feedback and opinions about this person called me that i spend way too much time with, i didn’t know i was a personae until they told me so and when i do bad things i can blame it on her. it’s like encouraged schizophrenia.
I wondered about the pressure and all the oddball feedback you must get. That’s a lot of shit to carry. Way more than a reality TV show where they only shoot for 6 months and then everyone goes home. With your kind of personal blog it never ends, even when you’re on vacation…and btw. I’m thoroughly impressed that you kept your breakup off your blog. nice work on keeping it real there too. I know people thought the opposite, like if you were “really real” you would have blogged about it, but I think it shows a sensitive side that makes it more real. Fuck the voyeurs, they get enough of you.
Okay – I’ve got some poems and an article to write and all I want to do is get high and watch movies.
i re-found you not too long ago i left you a comment right?
i buckled and broke breakup silence when a cunt left me a comment “muahaha what happened where’s phil” something like that. my immediate response was caps lock yelling I WASN’T DUMPED and a photo of myself in a burlington kitchen where i was having a very private public rebound. i cannot believe that made headlines. my new tagline should be if you date me you will be in the newspaper.
i have been emailed for years for blog tips. when i finish this book everything you could want to know “how” to do it will be in it. i just cant retype 4000 personal emails anymore. my job is talking to people everyday all day, email phone blog real life. i am all talked out and hyper like the micromachine man motor mouth. i live and work like monsters are after me and i get death threats praaactically every day on youtube videos. i will definitely without question go out in flames one day many years from now. i seriously hope not.
adventurehouse brunch made by lucas. we are making an adventurehouse tumblr because we are regressing into arts and crafts and activities land. no real jobs here. just kidding he has a real job. i think? something to do with the symphony. what a show off.
i am an old lady and it takes me awhile to recover from my life sometimes. i got up and attempted to get some ice cubes from the freezer with my wet bare hand, they stuck, stung, tore at my skin and then i dropped the oldschool ice grid to the ground bent over to pick it up majorly clumsily opposite of black swan (no not the white one, i wish) and then i came up into the open freezer door, loud and painful simultaneously to this heroic act lucas got cooking onion stinging up his eyes and started wailing. melodie walked in on this precise moment and said, i’m getting out of here. the freezer was attacking me. we are winners in adventurehouse.
and lucas looked like an ewok. whenever one of them wears a sweater the other one will wear it the following day and i’ll secretly be like come on guys get it together but secretly love it. whatever’s lying around the house in whichever room one will just put it on and then that sweater goes on an adventure through the house.
bentler owed me dinner for being an unaccountable shit show on new years eve. i guilted him. not that there would be any chance in hell of me crawling out of my own party reverie that evening, hearing how his night went was pretty humourous and thrilling in a scary way. black out for 5 hours. pass.
i tried to get him to take me to canoe. lucas helped me manipulate him via bbm. what do i say i’m pissed how do i win? how many moments have you had like this? texting is a fine art. anyway, i said remove my name from your contacts please. DEAD. to me. it worked.
he was like how can i make it up to you? yeah i’ll believe it when i see it. monday comes, that’s yesterday and i only remembered about it about afternoon time and i hadn’t heard from him so i am already assuming he’s going to bail. i bbm about spice route, how i liked it there, we can wing man each other (i am not approaching this as a date we are both now forced to endure for the sake of our “friendship” i want to use this free ride to my advantage and at least both of us can maybe cruise and have fun with it) but the beauty of bbm, the meaning or description is lost and he replies confused which i then interpret as the beginning stages of weaseling out of our dinner so i say if you bail we are not friends. i can’t help it, i sabotage everything in sight and i have zero trust in men. zero. my expectations are so low.
we’ve already smooshed and i don’t waste my time. my nights are very precious to me, my time even more so. so having dinner that is not going to end in marriage proposals is bogus to me. like, that’s friend shit. fine ok i guess we’ll be friends. i pegged him as a player day one. he hates that. what guy looks like this, arrives in his gorgeous white car with flowers on time, opens a door, says everything right, pays, pays attention to you and isn’t a player? why the fuck are you wasting your time with me you can do better, superficially speaking.
but, you cannot top the magic what is my brain. so they at least wanna stick around for some of that. i am a good friend, confidant, adviser, trustee and so on. you’d be a complete idiot if you turn that down. in friendship world it is reciprocal. you show up. if you can’t make it you have a better excuse than black out. you show up then you black out. i’m not a chump. one friend who owes me money i told him basically i paid you $50 to not be my friend anymore. i don’t even need the fucking money, at all, period. you do. i’ve loaned you so much shit, covered costs, you stole from me huge time and you have the nerve to call me to hang two months after this instance where i covered your bag of blow (charming, i know) and spotted you (this was years ago) anyway scumbag, you prove you want to be friends with me and not my money. you can’t? then fuck off. this, in my psychotic neurotic mind equates my prideful mexican stand off with bentler. i want absolutely nothing from this man and expect nothing. i am jack nicholson in the departed-level insane. isn’t it breathtaking?
once we got our oopsie out of the way, the competitor tough love in me moved on. shut the door. we’d bbm every so often tales of our exploits. realizing we’re the same fucking person. too many guys out there i am discovering i am very similar to. dogs, studs, players. so i killed my pof account yesterday. too many men, overwhelming. not to mention, pieces of work i’ve been building up correspondence with and this was the ready to meet week for some choice potentials. date machine gun. i have it down to a science. i’m going to write about one of my dates for sofi. is that even interesting to people?
it was really cold and i was apparently being demure. i enjoyed being eye-fucked and stared at a lot. when you walk with a hot person and you yourself are not too shabby, make sure to watch everybody watching you, their eyes bounce from you to them and back again until they settle on what they desire. i won more than bentler.
my old life setting. four years. i don’t think i will get over it until i am in another thriving wifey relationship again. i hope i do it for the right reasons this time.
this makes me feel haunted. i doubt other people feel the same when they look at these. when i go on dates in yorkville with men they do not know what i am feeling inside when they are arm candy shuffling me along the sidewalk, stare-and-be-stared-at’s row on cumberland.
the way i felt at the time i was living it too. i was a charlatan and i could never take the attention but once in awhile i’d go shopping at whole foods and i would look amazing but i was too shy to enjoy it and now that i am blond i fit in too much. in oakville, oh my goodness, christmas shopping felt like a jungle and you’re the lion.
i helped him get these. i advised. did i call them oliver twist or charles dickens? he repeated whichever it was last night when i took the photo of my legs, are you going to get mine too?
and then i showed him my world. he invited himself up practically. i dashed into the lcbo at spadina/king in the nick of time, we had 5 minutes to closing, he’s like what should i swing around and you fly out of the car i say yes in one fluid movement it will be my opus. i would never say something like that on a date because you never know what it will be like when it leaves your mouth. it was the right thing. he laughed. i bought two different kinds of malbec, one a masi because it’s what i chose for the table in collingwood blondetourage wakestock weekend and i am sentimental like that. another, cheaper, was actually better. i wanted to drink wine alone, or with roommates or maybe see my newest crush.
i showed my adventure family my piece of fish ghost from piece of fish past so they could judge and disapprove of him. they know all about our history.
sometimes i bring men over like a cat would a bird that its caught and killed. like a trophy. what does this say about me? i need constant approval. to my new crush i told him during an a-ha! moment, i am one who needs to be wanted. constantly. in short, it is very exhausting. i told one date we can meet at the shoe and i will be the one trying very hard. fuck man, do i ever know the lines.
trimmed the flowers off to make it take on the shape of the chair cushions. bentler kept asking if it was for him. no it’s for my friend leslie. i was flattered he liked it so much though.
then of course i woke up with a trimmed down washboard stomach. good grief do i ever fluctuate. WHER THE FUCK WERE YOU LAST NITE!? so glad my face is blurred out. i’m sorry i’m so neurotic but if i weren’t there’d be nothing to read here.
not even sucking it in and i know i’m not a twiglette but it’s weird to feel around your waist and it’s gone and there’s no smoke ‘n mirrors except this fuzzy one.
