having fun with the warhol. that’s what i’m going to call it. it’s the penultimate word for what i feel i am doing when using it (camera) and showcasing my life. arty faggy pop hip whatever. i just wish i knew how to make the photos smaller so they don’t eat up years of my life whilst uploading.
now it’s not raining so i can hit the gym but i actually have to shower first cos i have courtney love hair as you will notice in the photos below that melodie took of me all nakes just now. it’s liberating (maybe for you but for us it’s normal) to have such tolerant roommates. i walk around in the buff and it’s like i’m wearing clothing to them. it’s not even sexual. it’s just hilarious. we see each other naked all the time who cares? i wish we could expand our parkdale mansion into a hippie farm. it’s already a commune for the most part considering cindy and reg downstairs though they’ve not caught on to our clothing optional sanction as far as i know. i guess it would be a little weird to come up the stairs naked for a little chat yeah? only a matter of time i suppose. it has been a scorcher of a summer which in-part has inspired nudity it’s ridiculous how much i’ve blown on clothes this summer only to wear the same 4 things over and over again as well as spend the majority of my time naked. i didn’t put so much work into tan lines to cover those suckers up. i need to take them for a stroll on a brazilian beach.
i can’t go to the gym looking like barf today because gym guy is going to be there about the time i’ll be there and we’ll have to talk in person now ahhhhhhhhh. he texted me “hot gym thing” which is hot. that should be his nickname though not really my style to be all froofy-sex and the city cheesy like some girls refer to the men in their life by. i was just going to say DIMPLES but then i remembered i already gave a guy that nickname so there you go looks like i’m a cheeseball afterall.
i’ve been demented all day. i’ve been on the run for 6 days in a row now it seems, no time for anything other than stretching self too thinly. just as i start to settle i am up and on the go again. i have travel fever bad and i don’t work til sunday so hmm…but i am going away next weekend so. i want to do ten things at once and i also just want to sit on my ass. ok here we go photos warning kinda racy (“maybe for you” hahahaha). sorry dad!
this one is just hilarious to me so not even flattering just funny and my ass is box-shaped over there what?? i look prehistoric and bigger than the fridge. that orange magnet is the number for booze delivery, it has a cat and dog on it for a deak-out.
our place is great for photographs when it isn’t trashed. which it sort of part was at the time these were taken. who cares look at my pearly whites and good vibes.
melodie was like do you care if the crucifix is in the background i was like why did jesus get so much pussy? cos he was hung like this. does it look like i “care” about “things”?
yo do you want to buy this fucking finch or not? someone is considering buying my scribble of french hamburger i drew on the back of my business card yesterday during breakfast. all in a day’s non-/sort of work.
i haven’t partied once in the distillery all summer. sad face. never fear though as there’s going to be a HUGE PARTY next weekend all up in that scene. maybe i’ll tool around in a segway like the geek i really am (not). THERE WILL BE oops caps, there will be bands and there will be a lexus or two i’m sure and there’ll be hipsters and other people you will pretend to not notice as is typical in this wonderful fucking city. check here for the band performance line-up. just when you thought live music was over for the summer, newp, not done just yet. i receive a gauntlet of dear raymi what should we do this weekend emails we’re from out of town blah bla etc etc. so look, there you go. get crushfucked in the beautiful naybe of the distillery district, have a nice dinner, break your ankle on some cobblestones and get laced at another chi chi event where i’m certain there’ll be a photo op backdrop and party photographers sliming their way through the crowd to take your photo so you better bring it (style). my esteemed party cohorts NotableTv are organizing this shin-dig which is like the oprah’s book club party stamp of approval, you’re in a for a good time. The last thing notable threw that i went to i came out of with a two day hangover. fuckin’ right ripped there terry.
look i am fake-walking for a photo. i bought these jeans from goodwill specifically to cut them into shorts. so weird buying something knowing you will be taking it home to alter it, feels like a waste of money cos what if it doesn’t work out? leap of faith? i bought three other pairs of jeans and some shit shirts. then i blew a bunch of money at h&m and dinner on curly haired fuckbag at watusi. god i love watusi. that’s my shitty date bar. beast refuses to go to it hahaha.
part of the top of my hair is broken. i tore some out on accident from re-tying ponytails and buns so now i have a cowlick and i will never not look like garth.
last photo of the day with hair down. got too muggy. when i opened the bar yesterday i did so in my bikini. why haven’t i been doing that all summer??? stupid.
still on island time. you know what, i don’t want to hear about anybody’s vacation. ever. i don’t care how your weekend at the cottage was and i don’t care what your next road trip is going to be like either. i am bitter. i am going to NOLA in september.
ugh astor’s not every drink has to be taken to a fuckin’ TEN ok. i drink coffee black short of that creamed up by something that is actually booze not sugar whip cream. woah why am i so aggro right now?
$2.98 shades from aldo with neck strings attached. go to aldo all their glasses and whatever else summer accessories are cheap. basically go to any store right now and it’s all clearances on summer stock what is this the penny saver? (yes).
oh great it’s just about to storm and i was pretty much dependent upon gyming my rage out plus its been two days.
a real nice post is on the horizon don’t worry.
got picked up at the bar last nite on my way out i was too gunned to stick around though. also a guy i gave my number to at the gym texted/called so he’s not gay. the girl and i at the front desk went through all the dudes in the gym’s photos til we found his. i came down and was like look i know this is entirely against company protocol but i don’t care he has my number anyway, but lets check out his photo you tell me if he’s gay or not (gym is practically in the village) and she’s all over it. the desk girls love me cos they’re bored out of their minds and i come in dripping in sweat, maybe stoned, putting back one of the energy shots basically i’m duffman. if it goes anywhere i’ll tell you more details about how we cruised each other so you can follow suit at your own gym. oh and i accidentally kissed a customer on the cheek last nite when he was paying his bill hahahahah ughhhhhh. he was like 6’8 and leaned down to thank my hospitality (fine young ass) and i leaned back up in and said you’re welcome/pecked him and then went ahhh sorry! then a chick in his circle (older-set) comes over blasted HEY DID YOU KISS THAT GUY? yes i did why am i in trouble sorry couldn’t help it he leaned in it was like kissing my dad it felt like family she laughs no big deal meanwhile his actual wife is out there givin’er too! i said is he out there bragging about it right now?? yes he is she says now this guy his friend is getting in line for one too.
if you need me i’ll be batting a thousand in the park.
i can’t help it i’m cheery i hug and kiss everyone it’s natural not forced and i’m affectionate i’ll hug a serial killer i don’t care i hugged mangy flea-ridden cats in mexico then i probably ate one the next day at the buffet. hey-o!
Been a long-time reader of your blog-o-saga, and have to mouth off and say that this year has been the most amazing, basically because it hits home. I’ve had a parallel experience similar to what you’re going through now, but this is coming from the other side: I’m the guy in the equation.
Catherine and I were in love – the perfect couple. Passionate, common likes/hates, popular, and so verrry comfortable with our situation.
Till she told me out of the blue that things weren’t working, that there was too much she wanted to do with her life that didn’t include me. She wasn’t living enough for herself. The last thing she said to me was “Please, give me five years”. And she was out the door.
I won’t rag on about how I coped – this isn’t about me.
I didn’t see her again; even coincidentally, we didn’t cross paths. But, through friends and acquaintances, I heard she disappeared and decompressed for a while, traveled, broke her ass getting a degree, did all kinds of work, exorcised a few demons, and in the process, became a better and happier person. I knew this wouldn’t have happened if we stayed a static couple.
Since the cut between us was clean, my head assploded when I picked up the phone 5 years later, and heard her voice. Apropos the situation, we made chitchat for a bit. Most of what I had heard about her odyssey was true, I mumbled a bit about myself. Then, she asked the inevitable: “Want to get together today?”
Sigh, hem-haw, erm, (heart sinks), “No”.
Why? Because if we got back together, even for a day, I could never survive saying goodbye to her again.
And I’m too proud of Catherine to lay that shit on her.
I see you, Raymi, like I saw her, and I hear her when you have to lower yourself to defend your actions.
Go for it! Just be you, because you’re doing it right.
i am mary magdalene. wait, she was a hooker right? well based on everyone’s impression of the brief drake lounge chat-up i had sunday night and that guy thinking i was an escort and all…ha ha. i wish i could go back in time and change my response to eat shit and face meet bar top.
i was a bit nervous then a bit narcoleptic (almost!) on the back of this thing, knew it would cure my hangover a little. you just have to turn your head off while on it.
cheeeeesy and cool. ginger i think is secretly working on a side website project of chicks on his bike pics cos he always makes me do one last pose on or near the bike. as if i don’t acquiesce.
this guy is from france, from the 60’s maybe? it is gorgeous. i shaved some parm then grated some with the mouli grater. made an arugula prosciutto olive/bals pepper tomato greens salad and polished off a bottle of rose with dad and shot the shit. now i have a date with mom and doctor appointment i am so tiiiired. my hair looks like garth algar’s right now and yesterday i looked like michelle fucking tanner with my rainbow pink argyle socks and red gallaz (chick division of globe sneakers. i want a shoe sponsor!) next time i come out here i’m bringing my longboard then i’ll get skeletal for sure. and 13 year old boyfriends.
i just listened to this song 20 times in a row. be like me.
i’m uploading infinity photos from wakestock right now just so’s you know. it may take awhile. WILL take awhile.
last nite was a nice little shit show. people were dancing on each other’s shoulders like it was wasaga fucking beach. insane dance party and the dj played 800000 songs. he was able to do this because he only played 20 seconds of each song. it got a bit annoying but then you’re like oh yeah my attention span right now is that of a fruitfly’s so no big deal. i wore malcolm x reading glasses and no one recognized me. awesome. in the lounge waiting for trish i said hi to one guy and he was like ??? i’m like dude i slept at your house! perfect. whole new girl. a euro old guy wedged himself close to me like some cliche hotel pickup gallery (which essentially it is) and i’m trying to eat my carpaccio and get my champagne on solo. he asks if i’m in business (i’m wearing toga dress, not my typical crushed sundays attire, ie. i look pretty) i’m all um, yeah, are you? aren’t we all? and give him a look. he says yes he’s in business. then silence. eventually he got the please fuck off point. just cos a woman is alone at a bar doesn’t mean she wants to be approached. or spoken to. only if you’re good looking. like i’m already in the very corner of the bar at the bar stop hovering all up on me i can’t breathe thinking about the claustrophobia.
and to clarify my meanness to guy at bar cruising me, if i wanted dinner company i’d have invited one of my 456589 boyfriends. if im there solo it means i want to eat alone. im paying to be alone. now, leave me alone unless i eyeball you over.
i still have 50 in my wallet i think i went out with 130. 50 is better than zero.
sort of picked up a 22 year old hilfiger model. he asks how old i am. i hate this game. they always say 23/24 to be safe. 27 i answer. dunno if it helps or hurts me, wasn’t interested all that much and also had to ask if he was gay or straight so i think we’re even in the rude questions department? don’t care. just another sunday.
was going to bring camera out but didn’t feel like being responsible. kinda wish i did now so many good photo opps. happy birthday anton!
halp my brainz and now i get to loser walk to my bike that i totally could’ve ridden last nite but trish said no. probably wise. so loser walk to bike then grab in the market cos i’m all out of stock. this feels like old times. i feel equal parts could eat a house right now and could die in the gutter. fantastic in other news. curly haired fuck gets back tonite from panama. i think i might join another dating site. i passively joined eharmony but you have to pay to see photos so that was a massive waste of time. i am not going to pay for a boyfriend. i am not that hard up. clem said if he doesn’t get a new girlfriend soon he is going to die or need to get a new liver. me too.
there’s a bench of old men chiefs in trinity bellwoods that i bike by every single day (whether to work or gym) by the dirt path and they get maje enjoyment seeing me blow past in my bathing suit top and platinum hair. it’s pretty funny. takes me a few days to get over shyness of seeing the same person about town then i get to smiling at them then saying hello. blows their minds. floors them. speaking of the dirt path in bellwoods by the baseball field more southern in the park, i feel like there is a battle betwixt people on foot and cyclists. that path is kinda integral to cutting through the park yet people on foot get all staunch over walking space so i have to bounce off it and cruise the grass for a few as i’m gunning it up and up getting more exhausted and agitated. basically, fuck you lazy assholes, it’s a park! you can walk the fuck anywhere! get out of the way that path is for bikes and it’s a shitty path at that, so bumpy, rugged terrain, roots asunder, low tree branches death trap is what it is and then some slow yuppie ass family obstacles with baby strollers and relaxation footwear self-entitled dinkheads hogging up the way. i am going to mow you down one of these days and it will be a shit show so please if you hear a bike coming get out of the way or at least veer to the side a little and make room you selfish in the wrong crank.
there was something else i wanted to complain about but i forget what it was. all my mental notes to self are like REMEMBER TO WRITE ABOUT THAT NAPKIN THAT MADE YOU THINK ABOUT SOMETHING IN A DREAM ONCE then i read it on a receipt or something and my brain takes the form of the riddler’s question mark superhero costume. remind me to tell you about a photo that made me almost crash my bike last nite as well as a woman who said she hated me yet reads my blog every single day i ran out of blog time.
check these waste cases out. bachelor party. they wanted to go to the rippers, i tried to talk the groom into it but his woman is too controlling so he got right pissed instead. got the led out for the boys then some teenage wasteland and other tommy who and a full on air guitar brawl was underway. i cracked my head on the old school fridge tap and have a massive contusion now. good thing i have bangs. good thing i injure myself DAILY.
groom on the right. best man on the left. both asleep while the boys give’r in the foosball room. i haven’t tended bar upstairs in months. it was fun. note the playboy mag.
evan works at suspect. he’s bros with eastern this funny ass asian guy who works in our mirvish hood who had no idea bout the henry bloggins of blogging what is raymi, just knew me as a regular civilian until his friend evan is like raymi works next door!? this girl i know is a massive fan and we’re going to hang and come see raymi. blew eastern’s drunk ass mind so they showed up for me to drop some raymi 411 on eastern’s ass all about this stupid internet dominance of mine. he’s in love with my dad’s band too, caught them when they played a couple months ago. think they’ll play central again in fall and you better not miss it. the wasps blew their loads big time over that gig. um what else yeah that’s me periodically takin’ a work minute rest to pose in a photo with a custy. can you imagine doing that? i know a lot of famous musicians/artists/actors have reg jobs in the industry where you can go and stare at them for hours by. happens to me. sometimes i won’t be told til i give them the bill, they’ll be like um, do you blog? i’ll be like you know very fucking well that i do thanks for telling me at the end of this and not at the beginning of serving you i’m racking my brain for all the stupid shit i could’ve possibly said to you over the last hour. you coulda got raymi the wicked instead of stressed out sweaty frazzled raymi. oh no wait that’s both.
friday nite went to the drive-in with ginger at polson pier. he had never been to the drive-in before what??? you couldn’t pay me $200 to tell you what the fuck the expendables was about we talked through so much of it and were completely gunned. predators also kinda sucked but we had a blast. it’s all about the experience of sitting in a car with the windows open drinking roadies smokin’ weed eating garbage popcorn in a huge lot staring at a screen listening to a film over the radio in the summer in the middle of a city. you should do it. make sure you hide your booze smartly though cos they check cars there. i’d tell you how i do it but i feel like it could get back to them? i mean the entire city reads this stupid blog so maybe i should shut up once in awhile? (not happening).
drinks mix tour. in the coke we have fancy rum from wherever ginger got it. in the aloe absolut. belvedere in the diet coke and gin in the vitamin water new flavour (amazing blend fyi). has anyone tried that new coke that has ginseng in it? does it make you like the incredible hulk? i feel like i wouldn’t blink for a day if i had it. don’t think i won’t i’m a new product addict like mad.
retarded salad from crappy qb sports bar dinner date with my dad. beyond offensive grammar all over that menu so atrocious. makes you feel like a smugbag going over it. fuck, what doesn’t make me feel like a smugbag? ps. i just invented smugbag WHAT A SMUGBAG I FEEL LIKE RIGHT NOW. <-scredriver city. oh right this is a blackened chicken salad and it was actually decent. iceberg lettuce is for miscreants though, the chicken itself was spectacular.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894801826/in/photostream/
are you digging the non-order of these terrible blackberry shots?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894761626/in/photostream/
stew is an awesome collector of knick knacks. i am so bummed he’s moving in september. we are both night owls. i’ll come home and text if he’s up and its literally a 3 second walk across the street. he’s moving into trish’s building (house?) and they want me to move into the floor on the top, also available. too rich for my blood. well it’s not i just like having lots of extra money to blow on shit i don’t need. well, i’m actually saving for travel.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894158385/in/photostream/
how do you get rid of knee scars?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894157899/in/photostream/
not to be conceited or anything but i have wicked gams. sometimes it’s like i can be the epitome of bloated and it doesn’t matter cos there are no cankles in sight.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894752590/in/photostream/
etc etc
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lucas hung as crap. me on way to gym. aren’t those mel’s shorts? hahaha.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894155665/in/photostream/
it’s a good life. i know i’ll look back on this period of singledom depression and be like what the hell was i thinking this life is awesome! i did exactly whatever i wanted whenever i wanted and answered to fucking no one. buck the f up guy! melucas get drunk sentimental pre-emptive nostalgic over me living with them too sometimes then we all hug crying and beat each other up. i love them. we gang up boss lucas around too it’s pretty funny. poor guy (loving every second of it). i have to go hug them right now brb.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894156285/in/photostream/
torture time. i felt like puking about here. sometimes you just push it too hard i guess.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894750424/in/photostream/
after gym brosz7’s.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894749994/in/photostream/
i’m developing a fondness for cider. i think i get off on the face flush high it gives me. probably an allergic reaction. well that’s what gin blossoms is right? can i talk about more alcohol in this post christ.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4894749506/in/photostream/
melodie says i am eating way too much tuna/salmon/sashimi/sushi etc. i am being an asshole to the planet (sustainable food) and signing myself up for mercury poisoning. fiiiiiiiine.
ok newsies i think that’s all i have in me for now. i just had a shower now i have to do hair makeup and plan for dinner then don’t forget it’s strung out sundays (even though i’m not strung out) so you know what that means. it means i am not going to tweet anything retarded hopefully.
miss you like a hole in the head. we made it through the week.
xoxo
-my little pony
I don’t really know how to put this so I’m just going to start writing and hope it works out.
I’ve been reading your blog for over four years, introduced by Etienne, Emilio’s sister. I mean I could drop some names of people we both know, but ultimately I think it would be a manifestation of my intense need for you to think I’m worthy or whatever, so I’m not going to. And I don’t really comment on your blog at all, cause whatever. It freaks me out sometimes. So open to interpretation and can be catty and confusing. Not you. More the wackos, perverts and bored teenagers.
Okay all this boring shit doesn’t really matter – like how at first I didn’t like you and then next thing I knew I was checking your blog about two or three times a day and and how
now I’m basically fixated on the fact that I think you and I would have pretty much the best night of our lives drinking and laughing and breaking hearts while the sun comes up.
Just recently I went through some major changes in my life. For a long time I knew that I didn’t want to be with my awesome boyfriend anymore, obviously not because of how awesome he is, more about how I got together with him when I was really young and we’d been together for 6 years… blah blah blah. It all of the sudden became really important to me to discover who I am today, as a young woman, without a man. I think you know what I mean.
I want you to know that however cheesy it sounds, you really empowered me to make a pretty fucking massive decision in my life. Watching you go through your ish, day to day – with all the adversity and yeah, granted you’re not like pioneering Civil Rights in the deep South, yeah you’re living your life but hey, I get it. I think you’re great. I think your beautiful and vain and humble and nuanced and smart and making an impact… A true Artist.
I live in Vancouver now but I’m from Ontario. I was just in Toronto shooting a short film I co-wrote and starred in, and really was in cottage country for 6 out of the 7 days, but my first night was in Toronto. My best-friend/the director of the film wouldn’t let me go out – haha, she wanted me to have a good sleep before our week of madness. And all I wanted to do was go to the Central and fan-out on you. But I guess it was all for the best. Instead I’m writing you this email because, well first of all I can’t bring myself to get on my bike and ride to the Ocean. Tough life, I know. But also, I’m writing this cause how often do you get a rad email from a cool girl who thinks you’re really great? Not often as I understand it, and you know, why not tell people you think are really great that they’re really great?
Much love to you and I hope next time I go to Toronto we can hang. Might be moving there in the Winter. We’ll see.
Take care,
Katie
Jesus you just made my fucking afternoon. Send me your picture! I love dope chicks. Congrats on your life and film and leaving your man. Its tough being single but it’s an adventure. Took balls to write to me that way. Though im really not that intimidating.
do you know how much i get the i hated you then i loved you thing? stu and i were discussing this last nite. he broke it down pretty smartly. too spazzy right now to get into-depth about it but yeah i’m glad i’m liked now. everyone kinda hates me at first then they realize they’re being stupid and should just allow theyselves to fall in love. don’t fight it! ok fine. even though stew is gay he understands the sexiness of a woman’s androgyny, which i definitely border. i’m girly but i’m bro-y and i am gonna go out on a limb and say i feel that chicks are part attracted to me/that, intimidated by it cos they don’t possess the bro-gene so it’s like fuck she’s got that one-up on me that some dudes are really attracted to but also i am attracted to her too so it’s a double fuck and then there’s her blog showcasing the whole mental fucking thing. stew says it’s clear that i want a man by looking at my blog and that maybe other chicks see it too and so they see competition? when really it’s not it’s just my life on display, not like beating you over the head with GIVE ME YOUR HUSBANDS it’s just oh fuck another day another stupid thing i did and now here i am complaining about it insert 50 photos of myself in a bikini top press send. i dunno. half the chicks whom i’ve had passive aggressive relationships with eventually get slaughtered and pounce me. i’ve bagged many babes is what i’m saying. so it kinda makes sense in a fucked up way. i can turn the sexy off and on like that. usually it’s off but still present, can’t help it.
does my tattoo look like a bratz doll to you? someone said that at the bar once and i almost brained them. another one i’ve gotten is betty boop. how lazy are these people? some chicks know it’s a blythe doll though, once they realize that they become nicer to me cos they learn that i reside in the upper echelon area of cool.
prepare thyself for a gritty bitchy blog post, rife with snark. this computer is slow as shit and my brain is clocking 150km/hr i am beyond under-stimulated. i’ll take it out on the blog. if you could see how much my bangs are sticking straight up on end right now from frustration a la that scene in tommy boy when farley loses it in the office of the potential break pad buying client you would laugh until you died. as for me i simply just want to die as this is hyper-annoying i can’t tell you how little i’ve accomplished since sitting down at this thing.
page three spread of the burlington beat. still pretentious kitchen life. this was funny to me last nite in a red wine buzz overtired tequila soda vortex. i woke up hung today and i barely drank last nite i guess it’s residual hangover from p&l nite. i think eating like a rabbit isn’t a very good base. who cares guy this trick is leaning the fuck out.
my brother’s gf made a comment about my 3/4 face giving poses. says she noticed that i do that a lot. oh, hmm, really. detected a little borderline snark there. should i mug shot pose or vamp, what do you enjoy looking at more? it’s all moot anyway as i look stupid as fuck in this photo.
yesterday’s pre-workout intake. fascinating i know. i do the tuna salad so often i can tell the difference between every batch they make. this one was good cos it was very low on mayo. the first time i bought some it was like hi can i have 150 grams of mayonnaise thanks!
how i look without lovehandles being smothered (camouflaged) by shorts. i had epic cramps and was beastly menstrual bloated, the abdominal machine took care of my cramps. i bike half naked to torture myself and inspire myself to get fit. like, if i want to look hot and ripped naked then i have to bike naked. it’s punishment for getting blubbery. also i sweat profusely by the time i get to the gym there is no point in wearing a shirt AND free bike tan multi-task. i think i have to invest in some legitimate workout clothes a la lululemon which will be me eating words like crazy. if you’ve been following along for years then you’ll know i have made an ass ton of dickhead lululemon jokes before. anyway i’ve lost five pounds of real weight not just fluke somehow woke up lighter weight and then was heavy again at the end of the night, you know what i mean? hopefully because i sure as hell don’t.
tweeted this a bunch already. i’m in this week’s NOW go get a copy or like fifty and make a raymi collage. melodie’s photo is beside mine too and she looks so beautiful i want to barf.
how many name droppers does it take to fill parts & labour? zero because all the name dropping happens on the sidewalk out front while your eyeballs roll back in their sockets.
hailey is the most beautiful girl ever and she’s developed an attitude and wit to her it’s awesome and going to be trouble. gave her a pair of hipster shades, black fakebans with hot pink sides.
suburban loungewear. i can’t rotate this because i am using an unsupported IE browser from when the internet was invented. i’ll hazard a guess that this shot is just as shitty the other way around, no mystery, no contest. the stupid strawberry shortcake shorts are from 69 vintage.
i look like hailey here. that’s my uncle mike. he was blasted and fell down each and every fucking stair for the big SANTA IS HERE reveal for all us kids. hands down the funniest thing ever EVER. he couldn’t see the top stair from the beard obscuring his vision then straight bailed like a boulder gaining momentum down a hill. he laid in a pile of his sack of presents at the landing while we all laughed our asses off. i am cry laughing right now envisioning it. the kerouac side of the family never fails to entertain. it was extra funny because he bellowed out at the top HO HO HOOOOOoooooooo screaming all the way down we were hyper and impatient for presents after dinner then it finally happens and he fucked it all up. my papa was pissed cos he normally did santa for us.
my mom let me play hooky from school (i was a brainer so it didn’t matter) this day and took me shopping. i remember feeling nervous and humiliated by this rabbit. i didn’t understand what the big deal was about NEEDING a photo with it. holy how things have changed. i’d be straddling that guy air guitaring with my leg in a photo these days. also, remember those stupid jackets?
retarded dowdy fashions. nice fake smile mom. those dolls were an expensive big deal, they cried when they were apart and laughed when they were together.
homestead cottages. that bathingsuit ruled though my friend brooke told me off about it once, she wanted me to wear my other one piece with hot yellow leopard print and zipper up the middle cos this one embarrassed her. i bet she was just jealous cos i had a stomach shower suit and her suit sucked. we were always in competition apparently. man i was so daft then, so gullible and genuinely nice, always treated like garbage by other chicks. thanks ladies! brett on the right was clocked in the head by a sideview mirror by a passing van and got brain damage. so sad. wonder what happened to that family. this guy was such a character, like, gonna do something, be somebody type. tragic.
wore my headband all hipster before hipster was hipster. i was chosen to receive that cheap stuffed thing cos my babysitters were the ones in charge of the gifts or something and i clearly was the awesomest kid in the naybe. that’s dale as santa, my first virginity-stealing boyfriend’s dad. guys, endless information. i got it.
big ass birthday party at the bowling alley. why do i always look confused about what’s going on in photos? i so didn’t like my picture being taken then. i felt ugly duckling all the time. that outfit ruled though. two piece. that’s kristi with me she’s practically family. our moms are/were besties.
i remember this moment and hating it, refused to smile, hugging self to try to be as invisible as possible. hated pictures. i am so shy here. that’s brett again. our families planned our week at the cottage at the same time. his sister lisa is beside him and the blond kid who looks like steve martin showed me his wang. gross. i had a crush on brett.
do you know the frandiscos? that’s jonathan in the beetlejuice pants and his little brother in the back mugging like a goon. the awesome what is me and my backward suspenders is pretty obvious.
jonathan and i were best friends from kindergarden to grade eight, childhood boyfriend and girlfriend too whatever that shit’s not real but anyway, i take credit for all the cool he copied all the music i liked. we got in trouble all the fucking time for talking in class and rippin’ jokes. each year we got placed in the same classes was like a secret burn on our new unsuspecting teacher, we’d sit near each other and hold court for hours. you know who invented the term “jonafran” i did, hybrid of jonathan and his last name.
ok wieners it’s high sun time. i wasted the day and this post sucked now i hate myself. going to the drive in tonite with ginger. so stoked.
