hahahaha. oh french. i have never even been in an anglo giant tiger.
this also makes me laugh and reminds me of that comedian guy rippin’ on how french people say labatt blue. bluuuuh-eeeew blewwwwwwwwwwwww.
some noah’s ark themed restaurant. why do they do that, desperation? please come here there’s nothing for miles anyway and as a bonus for you we have some fruit loop bullshit scattered on the property. steve carrel eat your heart out.
what a hippie. i so belong in nature with wildlife. eating it.
kinda shell-shocked. have you ever seen the movie misery? that was my week in some respects. i have learned many valuable lessons. fanaticism being one. ironic that i was away writing my book about internet infamy whilst simultaneously experiencing the power and effect it has. bit scary. when someone is on the cusp of breakdown and you come into their hemisphere they can easily fixate upon you and you become the catalyst for something that has nothing to even do with you.
i was playing possum. keeping to myself what i was really feeling and witnessing so as to keep it as harmonious and non-confrontational as possible as i was there to work and write which i did in spite of all this mental chaos around me. i am also a compassionate person and far too lenient.
have you ever had an intervention for someone who doesn’t deserve any single more airspace out of you ever fucking again and they’re so off their gourd they haven’t any clue it’s an intervention? yeah my week was building up to that. i was isolated in a town i had traveled to work in but someone had a little fantasy in their head about me that didn’t go the way they wanted and that’s when shit got mental. thankfully i wasn’t staying with this person. i was being haunted by them though. harmlessly but still, it was super irritating and unavoidable.
i am extremely pissed off about it still the more i consider it the angrier i become. how dare you take advantage of my solitude you disaster of a human. you made my trip about you. you are a career bullshit artist. unstable and delusional. the only person you’re bullshitting anymore is yourself.
drove through quebec to get to ottawa. was already this far out may as well see the city no?
hey dudes relax you are stressing me out.
can’t stay freaked or mad too long as everywhere you look you see this shit called autumn BLAM! BAM! get the point eh i get it.
gorgeous burnt orange sky the sun feels like it flames hotter this time of year. it is a very animalistic feeling to think about the sun and that we have a burning orb of fire orbiting us then you picture the planet floating. what? floating! far out maaaaaaaaan.
just seems ruder in french eh. no, YOU arret.
beeeeeeeeeeeeautiful sweet beautiful freedom. felt like i was being rescued, i was running away like not without my daughter type shit. rolled a pinner for the road and being driven by a tall NORMAL dark handsome intelligent french man zipping through the countryside like a quebecer.
stopped many times along the way.
always in this point in time i inquire if you like lord of the rings.
i am amazed to see the shadow of a cloud, such a large mass of wonder spread across a mountain.
i think this is what Bono meant when he sang about God’s country.
i love quebec. i want to go for a week to quebec city and stay at the hotel i stayed at in grade eight. or, somewhere better.
forget the name of this place. something moon room? think so.
obnoxious over-sized wine glasses. gauche and slightly outdated. remember i am a cuisenaire. i don’t care what that word means if it’s right or not you know what i mean. i told my french friend i was a food critic. that i am a world life critic but now legitimately a food snot. it does matter what i say about your restaurant. my blog contends.
blonde punk so wasted he was taken with me i could tell in his head he was thinking i could be his nancy. sorry sid i ain’t into punks cos they’re cheap and lead oppressive lives while i spend and live like i am going to die tomorrow so really, who’s the actual punk here? me. i’m a baller.
plaid jacket was $15. argued with the girl for like an hour (she kept coming back to me for more) it’s the principle. this piece is not worth 15 bucks. ten yes but now looking at it i regret not buying it which they know and that’s how people do stupid things like buy fifteen dollar jackets at a clothing hipster swap in some bar while you’re getting down to some serious drinking.
should’ve done it. oh well.
scored some hash just as i ran all out of weed. the nite got awesomer.
i ate and owned and drank this city.
i don’t understand that sign, business open as usual? yeah thanks i can see that.
i love to see french writing everywhere i look. it is more sincere.
best indian food ever didn’t make me feel bloated or lethargic afterward. why is that? no preservatives or something?
Nice job uncle Tyler. So Raymi asked me to go to fashion incubator breakfast. I’m like, sure, why not. Croissants and models prolly. Worse ways to spend the morning.
Step one – get a taxi there and spill coffee on my inner thigh. So it looks like I had a urine jailbreak.
Now for some gratuitousness. In the spirit of this blog here is an at-home-vulnerable-me-pose. Can’t tell you the significance of the orange ping pong ball…sorry. That’s what it looks like under the patch…sometimes. The eyepatch is like underwear for the face. Curious kitties always want to see what’s back there. I won’t lie. I have made nefarious deals/exchanges at house parties in the back hallway.
Beeline to breakfast table where they have mini-bagels. Acceptable carb intake.
Wider shot to tell the tale. I have little clue about fashion. I shop at Winners and occasionally the Gap when I have a meeting with a client and there is a laundry crisis. To be fair though I am wearing a Hugo Boss jacket. Fits good. You know you CAN mix and match cheap clothes with nicer pieces. It all comes together.
These designers, I think that’s what they are called, are very talented. Its an art. I am not an idiot. I am really listening here. Looking at the craftmanship. But am I real customer? Let me tell you a story. Once when I was in love I bought a little black dress to be like a Sophisticated French Businessman. I spent a lot of time trying to pick the right size and style and everything. We have seen James Bond do this with a lot of success. It didn’t fit and reaffirmed some body issues she had. It was too big. She was a bit short. I said we would get another size. She asked me to leave her alone.
Me: Looking out the living room window. Her: In her underwear, in the bedroom, dress on the bed, crying softly. She was beautiful. I was in love you see.
This woman makes kids clothes. Including stuff for pirate obsessed kids. Which is all kids actually. Not only do people say ARRR when I walk by, the often ask me to say ARRRR. Of course I don’t. I look at them blankly with only the slightest disgust as that would be too much effort. This rule goes out the window for children under six though.
This is Grace Kelly. She is icy and cold yet may chuckle over cocktails. Would she cry if I bought her a dress? I don’t have the answer.
I could photograph models. Easy.
This guy designs bags. He’s a likable fellow. The first shot up there is his manbag that I am modeling. I didn’t cry softly in the bedroom. I guess buying a bag is less fraught with danger.
Maybe if I never bought that dress I would be shopping for this stuff. For our second child. Which might in turn inspire a pre-child birth divorce. Cause we all know that women who are pregnant have even fewer body image issues right?
Awww, she’s not so icy.
I’m thinking I should hire this girl to model my Augmented Reality Eyeborg t-shirt that shoots a laser beam out of an interactive 3D eyeball.
Sales are slow and that’s why we have models. Eyeborg just isn’t getting the shirts out the door.
Sparseness, fashion, beautiful women, one-eyed fish out of water.
These kind of make sense. They are little ballet shoes you can tuck in, uh, your clutch (?) when your heels hurt. I have been that guy with the increasingly angry girl who has been in heels too long. In our Irish family we have a word when women go like that. We call it “the narrow eyes”.
Kay – so its blurry. So what. These ladies were on Dragon’s Den and they make, uh, like shoe jewlery? I like their style.
Which reminds me of the time I bought some boots for a girl who I was in love with. Hasn’t happened that often BTW. The love bit. At all. I showed her a picture of the boots first – I”m no fool – can’t burn me twice. She said she liked them. Ahah. Done deal. Xmas shopping done. The picture in the ad didn’t show they have squarish toes though. Which “looks middle aged”. No sobbing this time – just irritation. But we were just about to break up so prolly had more to do with that.
Me: Looking out the living room window again. Her: Loudly washing dishes. She was beautiful. I was in love you see.
Told friendly bag guy that his watch was groovy. He says – that is such a straight thing to say.
Me and the bag likable guy hug it out. I give him the double pat on the back hug. I think we both learned something here. Buy some of his bags.
This reminded me of one time I got in trouble with my mom. We were at Marks and Spencers in Ireland, I was only six, and I saw one of those swimsuits with the built in boobs. I was squashing them appreciatively in my hands while she shopped away. My mom smacked my hand and said “No, Robbie.”
Free shit for me and Emer the cool writer girl. Out.
Hello Minxers, Guest blogging for Raymi is somewhat akin to Kenny Jones replacing Keith Moon in The Who. Yeah it’s a drummer analogy – cause I’m a DRUMMER beeauch! I cannot possibly fill her stylish-assed boots, so I’ll just plod along and be a good guy like kenny did back in 1979. Besides I’m pretty fuckin’ jazzed that RTM is actually finishing her long awaited book so I’m happy she asked me to fill in here.
What the fuck should I do though? You don’t really want to see me in all kinds of sparkly, tiny clothes – looking hot, drunk and hilarious do you? Didn’t think so.. Instead I’ll try to take you deep inside this bald head with a snapshot of a couple of days in my life. First up, what I like to do in my household.
What, you may be asking your addled self, does a 43 yr. old, bald, father of two do all day, besides lurk on raymitheminx.com? Well, like the owner of this blog, I also like to cook, eat, drink, and experiment with Hair Colour.
Today I’ll focus on the cooking. Actually, that’s what I do most days, since it’s really one of my favourite things to do. You know the saying – “do what you love”? More and more I try to ONLY do that. Life is too frikkin” short to focus on the shit you hate, so most days at home, I cook for my family. This past sunday I impulse bought some Beef Short Ribs whilst out getting some Pork Shoulder for that nights’ dinner of SLOW BRAISED CARNITAS. Yeah – sometimes I get excited when meat looks good raw. The Carnitas turned out great, though next time I’d halve the spices – especially the chile and cayenne. My 9 yr old can handle the heat, but her 11yr old sister can’t. Fucking Panty Waist!!! I love the recipe in that link – as it actually comes close to the velvety, falling apart chunks of aromatic pork I had this summer in Redmond, Washington at THE MATADOR. Ah, the exotic locales you visit when you’re in a travellin’ band! Funny though, after 20 years of being in BNL, I tend to remember the places where we had great meals, and I often either seek them upon a return there (sometimes to find out the’ve been demolished and replaced by Best Buy or Starbucks) or I try to replicate them when I get back to my own fabulous Kitchen.
Normally I cook Pork Ribs on my BIG GREEN EGG but today these meaty Beef Ribs are gonna be slow braised (fall is slow braisin’ season, apparently)in a Red Wine, Port and Thyme reduction. The recipe can be found in here:
After browning the Ribs in a nice hot cast Iron pan, and forgetting to photograph that step (I’m new at this shit, how does Raymi do it??), I put them in a braising pot with the Red Wine/Stock reduction that I also didn’t shoot, and cooked them at 325 for 2 hrs on Convection. In the meantime, my kids came home from school, and my Wife put out some snacks. Chips and Salsa and popcorn. Hmm?? Are we having company?? Yowsa, neighbourhood gal pals over for a swim in the back yard.
Like Raymi and joey did A COUPLE OF YEARS BACK (can you find a picture on your blog of you and SASS from that day and link to it? I couldn’t find one and It’s late! Sorry)(no time sorry rushing to get out of this fucking town -raymi) Turns out the naybes stayed for dinner too. Luckily there was enough to share.
That was my afternoon and evening, Raymites. Pure enjoyment with food, family and friends. Now this is where The Minx would go out and rock T.O. till 2 AM, all glorious mess in living colour. Carousing, drinking, dancing and posing paparazzi style all up in your grill. Conversely, Whitey’s, this is where I go off to bed. Tomorrow I have to be up early to MEET TELEVISION STARS AND PLAY MUSIC FOR THE HUMANS WHO WATCH THEM.
More on that tomorrow… as Raymi makes her way back from wherever-the-christ she went. Cin Cin, Troopers.
you make things awkward because you are ruled by your fucking dicks and then you act like dicks and ruin everybody’s good time because you’re sulking and didn’t get your way well we’re not your fucking prizes for the taking any time you bloody well want us. it doesn’t have to go that way all the time. i am sick of unsound men.
so hung. no more drinking. tonite is bowling. becoming something of a small town heroine. coming away with quite the story. a book is coming as i’m writing a book. what if i stopped blogging and just wrote books? i think i’d go insane. just wiped a ton of great pics off my camera. sad face. how do i recover? just as well as i should be working right now. i am pickled. was told not to wear hammer pants last nite as “people would make fun of me” meanwhile i looked awesome.
greetings loyal f-wads ’tis i your brave conduit arbiter of internet blog shit. i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t going part squirly up here i think i already said that but anyway i am getting a lot accomplished. my book is taking on a whole new form than what i originally thought it would be like. it’s way less rigid and more enjoyable to write it now.
i’ve been wandering around this cute little house in my thermal pants all day long going through pots of coffee hot ginger drink and weed and learning a lot about myself. it is exhausting.
small town life is exhausting because you have to make more effort to make it an interesting life if that’s what you’re after. luckily i am very good at being alone. thriving solitude. i get a little agitated thinking about all the city stuff i have to do when i get back, need to do, try to do from here. tyler stewart is going to blog for me too and rob has another post on the horizon. sent him to a fashion media breakfast junket this morning he better’ve got me some fucking swag. you’re all falling in love with him eh? why don’t you read his own damn blog then? i wondered if this might inspire him to blog more but his blog looks like shit. there’s just something about having your stuff on someone else’s blog. like it’s too much to bother going elsewhere when you’re already here. boy fuckin’ christ you guys are lazy. rob says johnny carson used to get other people to host the show for him for a week vacation at times. he got joan rivers. so that’s essentially what i’m doing here and yeah i’m still blogging but way less frequently than i would if i were in the city. on weekends i try to give myself a bit of a break though. my brain is churning like a motherfucker right now i am totally on output mode, this is my writing break from writing otherwise i just walk around the house in circles and rearrange the shoes in a straight line anything to avoid writing. i have earned this blog post.
i was pretty irritable day one here as i was adjusting to my new surroundings. night of first day we gave’r but the next day there wasn’t the right coffee. i was awoken too early which i found invasive. i wanted to go right into blog/writing weed world and i couldn’t so that was a shock to my system and regular routine. blogging is my escape from the world it is my quiet little way of expelling creative obsessive compulsion. i call it being obsessive blogpulsive and if i can’t exercise my creative needs then i lose it just a little. no you can’t tell me about that thing or the stuff or show me that article or talk about yourself at all period it’s getting in the way of my thoughts i’m not done organizing them i envision all the synapses in my brain shorting and popping lightning sizzles. i bet i’d have to visit an ashram to undo all the damage that blogging and the internet have (has?)(told you i am losing it words and language is all jumble mess nonsense to me right now) done to me.
a good idea for a show is to unplug a bunch of technobrats get them all in a house like big brother and film them fighting and snapping at each other. actually that would be a horrible show. horribly amazing! i picture the token pudgy guy with glasses and camo hat, chin strap facial hair beard trying to debate someone and not being able to fact check wikipedia for it and throwing the pissiest temper tantrum ever. i’d be the character he was fighting with.
i can’t start a fire to save my life in the stove here. how beyond quaint to have a stove in the room you’re writing in this is reminding me of when i lived in maine. i have two adorable views out the window, fall leaves every colour you could want to see adorn every tree. a car drives by like once an hour. nothing is going on. it is the perfect most idyllic place to write. you look out the window and you sigh all over yourself. this is some serious steven king awesome shit up in hurr. actually if anyone else is keen on borrowing this space for writing it’s been offered out via me to you. it’s close to town, everything is close i’ve been driven around in triangles since saturday. this is exactly, exactly the place i pictured in my head when i think of cliche novel writing escapes in movies or dreams. i am very grateful to my host(s). there is another house across town i may move to come thursday. i might go to ottawa. we’ll see what happens.
ok back to this writing roll.
thanks rob for guest blogging and tyler look forward to yours too. i am not uploading proper pics cos i don’t want to kill this rocket stick we got. the internet is precious here, i am going right offline immediately after this. still have access from my blackberry. thank. fuck.
miss you!
xo your pal raymi
ps. rob said i am like colbert, i have a nation, and that’s you little raymis.
So Raymi and I were having a few cocktails…when it came up that she was going to be out of town and couldn’t make it to a gourmet food thingy at the brickworks. Brickworks Picnic! “…a virtual tour of the culinary regions of Southern Ontario.”
So here I am guest blogging. And guest gorging. I went to Brickworks and ate a whole bunch of food and drank wine and beer…for free. You are welcome Raymi.
Who le fuck am I? I’ve been on this weird blog before. I am Eyeborg.
Raymi lives around the corner from here in Parkdale and she is a pal. I like this blog and I’m not sure why. I think its because Raymi has an honest inner dialogue going…or something. And she looks hawt.
Raymi talks and thinks about food a lot. I don’t think I approach it in quite the same way because I am a dude. Yes, dudes have body image issues and try not to pig out every day but I’m thinking I don’t have the same guilt. On the other hands guys have other worries. Am I the right blend of macho/sensitive? Is my career impressive? Should I manscape? These kinds of concerns. But in general little Raymis, I do think its more nervewracking to be a woman. So carry on! However can I please point out that you shouldn’t try to be as thin as gay art directors want you to be? As they say in Ireland, its good to have a little bit of arse.
PS I hate fucking flickr – never used it before.
I brought along Jason Osler who is a CBC morning show radio guy. Osler’s Website
The media coordinator called us Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Said we look the same-ish. Tall white dudes with media jobs.
He is single ladies. With a steady job. Not sure if he manscapes.
You’ll notice though that my shirt is less ironed. That’s because I am a freelance film and video guy and he works for a government corporation.
Here are some food shots because that seems to be what you food porn bitches want on here.
Me chatting up cute Squash soup chef.
Ate this felt zero guilt about it – didn’t think about my body image once. Sorry.
I asked this guy if he was from Toronto. He says “Look at my shirt, my dog ripped it. I don’t care. What do you think?”
Jason and I figured everybody at this thing listens to CBC. Its one of those affairs.
Talked to this girl for about 45 seconds before her boyfriend rushed in to see what was up. That’s what happens when you are tall dark type with an eyepatch. He’s smiling in that way that says -“Were you hitting on my girlfriend?”
This guy is getting paid 100 bucks to test smoke a new brand of Du Maurier. THey aren’t even on the market yet. These are the fascinating conversations you miss when you don’t smoke.
Ate this – didn’t care. Wasn’t guilty. Burp.
How do you say this?
Munch.
Chomp.
Gulp.
Stuff.
Cowbell guy. I guess that’s why he has a cowboy hat. Because of the cow thing. He’s a chef cowboy. Probably drinks a lot of wine because chef’s are bon-vivants.
Overheard these douchers saying ARRRR when I walked by. You wouldn’t believe how many times I hear that a day.
More eating. Don’t give a fuck.
This is me recreating 9/11 with cheese at cheese boutique booth. I am holding the little cheese plane that crashes into the cheese tower. Tasteless? Wrong…very tasty cheese. I love cheese.
Look at how seriously this woman is looking at piles of cheese.
Ate it. Was great.
Delicious.
Me and Osler gettin drunk.
These guys are really important chefs. I don’t think they liked it when I asked them if most chefs
drink a lot.
These important chefs didn’t seem to mind the question.
This is how I feel about eating and drinking a lot.
THey listen to CBC. All of them.
Those chocolates you saw before? They put Shitake mushrooms in them. It works somehow.
Carbs.
Well that was easy. And pleasant. Except for wrestling with Flickr.
Bye little Raymis! Think I will do this again soon. Uh, Raymi is always talking about haters. Is there a bunch of people who hate me now?
