scraped my hip too for good measure. this was after the audition haha ugh was going through the financial district everything was fine then i got cocky and thought i could take this massive spider vein of streetcar tracks. no such luck. at least i know i can fly now holy fuck i took air. got up grabbed board had earbuds in so if anyone gasped i didn’t hear it. scared the shit out of a cabbie about to bank a left i was on all fours did a jump squat to right myself up and beat it the crap out of there.
chong: doesn’t look too bad
not good though
how bad was the spill?
me: bad
chong: did you look like a retard?
me: palms are sore but skin didnt break
chong: nice belt
me: i looked really good actually i made it over a ton of tracks but then this one huge cluster i didnt make it over
board stayed where it was
i flew in the air
chong: i don’t ride over tracks
me: yeah well i didnt either before today
chong: i don’t trust them
me: i wouldve made it if not for this bigger gap
chong: you were trying to look cool in front of the suits
me: i made it over a cluster of them anyway it fucking kills
people tried to rush to help me but i scrambled up too quick and immediately put weight on it which might have been a bad idea
walked it off like a champ
chong: you should have blamed it on someone
me: was listennig to music im sure i made a stupid noise
chong: people prob thought you were 16
me: i think i yelled oh fuck
yeah i look like a student in my skate clothes
but a block away and no one remembers
chong: ya, i yelled oh fuck in slow motion while i flew off my LB a couple years ago
me: suits were feelin me
that sucks
chong: i was drunk though so i didn’t feel a thing
me: ive boarded for 6 years and that is only the second time ive wiped out
chong: i’ve wiped out on my bike a few times
me: i blasted down harbord once at 3am ripped out of my mind timed it with the stoplight, super dangerous. made it thru linux cafe intersection there
chong: i’m a bit wimpy with my LB… not too good with hills
me: chick boarders stand out way more its kinda harder
yeah if i know i cant do something i stop and grab it
and just walk for awhile which is how i made my way home
smoked half a joint at one point
chong: gotta get a new one this weekend
me: yes
ill try to find my trucks for you just buy a board the whole thing is expensive mine was 300
chong: the pot prolly helped loosen you up
me: no then i went into terroni
chong: i’ll use mine from my old board
me: and immediately sobered up
also it was raining so i had to walk a bit
oh duh right
in this piece of genius we see how i injured my OTHER hip bone three evenings ago. you get the dropsies when you’re menstruating. steph can vouch for that but what’s my excuse the other 25 days of the month?
rolled a consolation dewber in the bathroom of second cup. felt right skidly.
bumped into kenny and auds, well walked by the window and we both double-taked. the blonde hair is throwin’ everyone off.
they were killing time while mr. peeps was getting groomed. i had an americano and half of kenny’s sandwich. noel sent me this article while i was there. skimmed it, assume it pretty much aligns with my personal “careful neurotic eating” diet of the past when i first shed 20lbs.
my hip is stinging. think i’ll make some leftover jerk. work at 7. it’s TIMA nite (independent music awards) which is always interesting. you should drop in.
How about something like Minx Van Manen? Van Manen means “from the moon.” Kinda mysterious.
i like Lida Hosen just fine though.
-raymi
your peeps are very creative! which ever you think suits you the best.
Its nice to have humour in it and room to play.
P.S. all the gals think you are fantastic and a wonderful addition. I have to agree.
yesterday was a lovely day, wasn’t she. i love hot wind.
i look way too much like my dad in ray(fake)bans. that’s his look. being still in raybans is too dad, in-movement (biking) they look pretty good. not to brag or anything but i got cat-called by three different dudes at the exact same time while walking my bike below the dufferin bridge. it’s the hair and the no pants i think. speaking of hair, bangs are getting pretty long and when i do a self-cut i screw them up so i’ll have to see rose soon. or maybe hold off til i need a roots touch-up. think i wanna go lighter, go gaga. why not i came this far already. at the after hours friday nite in my bunny gear these mashed chicks told me i looked awesome and sooo lady gaga. great. how about i look like me? this paragraph is just one giant jerk off note to self. DEAR WORLD I AM GREAT THE END.
contracts aren’t legal til the exchange of money. thanks guy!
kinda accidentally on purpose mislead a few twerpers yesterday. a life rights option agreement is standard procedure. this now means my guy can start pitching, legally, it’s more pro. will keep you posted surely, albeit, vaguely.
yeah i don’t think these glasses are girly enough for me.
may have to copy casie‘s faux tat bruise cover idea. i’d need like twenty of them then. how did i even get this one? my left hip is sore from dancing in my room with melodie and i danced right into the teeniest space between my bed and side dresser, i think it’s on film too.
not so bad with bangs hanging over.
wore little shorts for the bike ride. wondering why i even bothered?
thought my chicken legs looked funny.
rooms are only 129, 169 for a double bed crash pad. kinda funny if i got one, hilariously lazy and too wasted to walk my stupid ass home. they throw in a toothbrush and coffee for the morning after. solid.
my new c-list celebrity status pal. lives right around the corner. longboards. has contacts i can mooch. i make him look good when we hang. PERFECT! meet rob spence. (i am not calling you eyeborg) his other persona mr. toronto is pretty good, helps him get away with bashing other provinces. i guess going as ‘raymi the minx’ lets me get away with shit too? despite all media mentions including lauren white in there, we all know it’s me so really it doesn’t change much. i prefer simply raymi, though.
illin’.
i complained about my eye/s (gushing tears from spring) so many times yesterday and finally rob said something like, YEAH, I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL. hahahaha ugh.
NEEDS MORE HIPSTER.
rob was recognized by a guy who works here. he had no idea who he was though. gave us an extra rum chocolate milkshake and some slaps on the back. the liquor store was closed which was plan b as cafe taste (that i still have to review) was closed. i wanted good wine and cheese. we noticed the beer store was open though after an ass-ton of people went by carrying 2-4s like boomboxes.
sometimes at shows i have to interrupt whomever is speaking to my known in the industry friend and inquire what band this person is in cos i can tell my friend hasn’t a clue so i do the whole interrupt and introduce myself thing so we all learn each other’s names. people just come up to you and clap you on the back shake your hand, they recognize you more than you them and you feel guilty about it. social taboo unavoidable faux-pas. i guess remembering names to faces is an important skill to have but you just can’t store them all. if you’ve worked with sooo many people or go around a lot, blah i dunno i just do a solid there to help everyone out because i “get” “it”. man i wish i could stop it with the air quotes sometimes, i do it in real life too it makes me feel like uncle joey from full house way too fucking much.
i was in love with a stressed out man on the patio, in love with his stress. he was discussing something to his girlfriend and ripping up pieces of paper from his wallet. rob had his back, dismissing all of my educated guestimations over what was being said out there. she was smoking, drinking a steamwhistle. they were older. seemed like a work grievance, someone pissed him off. she was passively listening, bored. wondered why she bothered listening, he seemed kind of annoying, too wound-up. wondered why i bothered listening to anyone, ever. love? being kind? in friend etiquette they say you have to sit facing the person who is talking, show them that you are a good listener with your body language, arms open, your body is saying i am open to what you are saying and i am receiving it. super gay huh where did i read this the babysitter’s club? eye contact is important too. put your smartphone away.
later on down the same street coming back from the beer store doubling on my bike a shirtless grifter called at us, “is it monday?” which i loved. “YES!” i yelled back in passing. that guy is me. last week on a monday i declared that it was a thursday. then on the sunday i thought it was a wednesday. something asinine like that. i exist on standard raymi time.
felt on luigi pretty bad.
late 50’s road king from eaton’s. bought it when i was 19 for $160 from bikes on harbord, whatever that place is called. never did go back for the complimentary refurbishing. i think it was a means to get me back in there, i think there was a mild flirtation with the shop guy who was pretty good looking, why didn’t i follow up on that? i was dating the spaniard at the time.
across the street from me here while i was waiting for rob to buy darts (quit already everyone, you smell gross!) three cruisers were making a big deal over some woman who clearly had some rough stuff going on in her scene. it’s unethical to say junky i think, as is crackhead. crack addict is the most-pc you can get with it but that’s also an unfair assumption and i couldn’t really gauge from across the street also, sorta didn’t care. just sharin’ my journey’s observations with you. i love parkdale.
now why would someone get rid of this or how could they possibly get sick of it?
discovery channel is all over this shit. wireless camera on the right. terminator red light on the left, for fun. i asked how people react to it. surprisingly very little. that’s city life for you. you could be on fire and everyone’d avert their gaze.
met up with abigail and jeremy at the beav and that’s when my eating tour really began. well, continued. period is in the hizzouse. here’s what i consumed yesterday not including all the booze:
beet/pear/blue cheese/pecan salad at the drake.
grilled calamari (that took FOREVER) at the rhino.
caesar salad, 2 onion rings, three rum chocolate ice cream shakes from stampede, we shared.
some indian donut hole, drenched in honey omfg i’m buying tons more.
wunderbar, dill chips – variety store.
chocolate cupcake with gobs of frosting and a double chocolate chip cookie – beaver.
and by this time i’m like nauseously stuffed but no, that’s not enough consuming. tried to go home from buying tampons and cheese nips and a diet redbull (for today) but abigail persisted so off to her place for a fucking platter of cheese and crackers and a cheese pizza and red wine.
in summation, i am a cow right now and i have dance rehearsal tonite. i guess i binge eat hey? i can not eat for like a day, just coffee and green tea, many of them and then a few days in a row i’ll rip it up foodwise. melodie says it’s cos i’m low on protein once you start giving yourself sugar your body wants more and more. i’m going back to granola. or starting.
jeremy is a really funny dude. they’re a great couple. his kerouac-gushing made abigail role her eyes infinity times, loved it. got a little heated over on the road vs. big sur for a bit there.
lookin’ tired and 27. the lighting doesn’t help much, or the photographer either. or the period. i will never run out of excuses. oh and the allergies too. natch.
amazing apartment, they’re so lucky. their cats are the best too, like, prehistorical-looking in size. massive gentle beasts. i look forward to hanging out with them again. oh and i guess ab and jer too, if they’re around.
then i went home. fat and crampy. cos i’m skinnier presently when i get bloated i look 5 months pregnant. it’s kinda cute in a way cos i have those brad pitt torso indentation lines from when he was in fight club. i look like pregnant fight club brad pitt. don’t be J-E-A-L-O-U-S!
getting wasted on hash with a film maker is good times. just go with it.
hilariousish.
one of those zero-to-party evenings that come outta nowhere. actually, that’s like every nite lately what am i saying.
ok laundry time, have to prepare (clean) an outfit for my longboarding commercial audition tomorrow. longboarding is likely the only skill listed on my acting profile, it sure as shit isn’t acting. if it weren’t balls cold out right now i’d go practice for a bit. i will after burlesque rehearsal tonite maybe. hopefully. not like i forget how to longboard, you don’t forget, you just need to be loose. i have to go buy a hoodie for the audition too, i left mine at joey‘s month’s ago and that bird has flown. my chucks are there too, all shitty and sandy from paintball. i meant to buy a hoodie on the weekend but bought a plaid shirt instead. idiot. i’m supposed to wear cargo pants for this thing too but i told my agent i don’t own any cos only homos (suburban jocks) wear them. hope i get it cos it’ll be a sweet paycheck.
I MISS YOU ALREADY BYE!
non-important update: dance rehearsal has been rescheduled so now i can loaf around a little longer (all nite). I LOVE LAZY.
vid quality will get better shortly. next my city lives with raymi tour will be of my underwear drawer.
day two niagara and flickr didn’t even try to remotely put my shit anywhere close to being in a significant order. oh well. i wish i got to complain about that MORE on my bloooooog. i think you may actually benefit from it though, the more scattered and random the less ok then we were here then we saw this then we did that style of post. order is boring.
overpriced tourist food restaurant with a stupid orange doesn’t make any sense glass thing on the table. kinda crabby by this point.
teenager ponytail.
yeah i could go for one-a those about now but when CAN’T i? am i right people?
bison i’ve had better burger. wow what an asshole. was pretty decent in fact. healthier than normal burgs i’m lead to believe.
everyone’s all takin’ their four-hundredth photo of the falls and here i am with what people really wanna be seein’. hangover princess. actually wasn’t that hung, surprisingly. shockingly.
i’ve never been to so many candy stores in 24 hours.
if only they knew how cheap these actually were hahahha. massive score.
kept a blue guy for myself.
gross. peanut brittle, i do not “get” “you” you’re like barely a candy. peanuts? anything that grows and isn’t chemically artificially manufactured doesn’t count as candy and then you layer this tough gunky ass crap all over it that dries into cement. actually i’m pretty sure i do get you and guess what, verdict’s in. YOU SUCK! you are for old people and i don’t know why cos they ain’t got no teeth.
mdma hangover view. not bad. pretty pretty good and a day so hot toronto hasn’t even experienced its warmth-equivalent yet. almost matched it saturday.
i don’t think i need to see these guys again for at least ten years thanks to digital photography.
that’s gonna look fantastic once everything’s in bloom though.
MOM WHY ARE THE WALLS MELTING??????
what kind of scientist would feel the desire to throw their jacket way up there?
that’s cute.
holy rock t-shirt much?
and then there’s this soft little gentleman over here. ok this is feeling a little slide showy i’ll weed out as much as i can.
keeper.
can’t wait to get a couple tans in me once tattoo is healed just to get my base on.
zzzzz.
good to know?
oh shit. i inhaled some organic “fudge” last nite. it had been fudge at some point in time at least. i am an animal.
jeeesus.
i bet it tastes stupid.
i love it when they can’t let go of the rock. or the punk. either or.
marshmallows rolled in caramel covered in nuts. down for it.
it was delicious and weird and phallic.
no shame, no gain.
wiener hair. hangover hair. party hair.
felt right. no, i have no animosity toward the falls at all. kinda like the prodigy album sleeve but not as hardcore.
i am so sick of looking at these i’ve been multi-tasking the last little while i go away come back and ugh, still here you mean someone didn’t post this for me yet? it’s hot out things seem to take longer on the inside when you’re rushing to get outside.
i like this picture because my hair stopped looking stupid for two seconds. well it still looks stupid, but the good kind of stupid.
and then i went and got all delicate ballerina up in thur.
i was the only person in shorts and everyone was jealously gawking. it was a bit much after awhile but i kept my head up and owned it. so glad i over-packed.
on facebook christian los angeles says, Try as I might, I just can’t hate this. Can’t hate it. S’cuse me. Cascading falls, cascading hair, cascading fringe on the thigh. Pretty much kicking ass in the “cascading” department.
DANGER: ASS FUCKERS!
caught up with my boy zoltar.
seattle represent!
other tourists sure were lovin’ (OUTRIGHT DESPISING) me.
f off buffalonians, i’m working here.
what the crap did you think goes on on this side of the border? hello, gay people can marry here uh-duhhhhhhhh.
ok i have to shower this shit show’s gonna be a two-parter. lucky you!
a billion more retarded videos and pictures from last nite’s home coming. eyeborg (though i prefer mr. toronto) is going to edit some together into something truly ridiculous embarrassing.
ps. my burlesque name is Lida Hosen and I’m Swiss. GO FIGURE! thanks for all your suggestions. the next show is MAY 16 at revival. $20 at the door, $5 off if you say the secret password: raymi. OR if you come to rock which would be evident by the manner in which you choose to dress. no pussies.
i have no eyes sans under-eye liner. i should get used to it though. i need to go more hippie.
can you imagine blasting your own eye out with a shotgun at 9? kinda, awesome?
i smashed the bodum because i am hercules and i’m used to tapping out limes/lemons from pint glasses into the slop bucket. bodum glass is uber delicate though. where the fuck can i get one in the west end?
the most flattering thing happened at work last nite. that guy who wanted to interview me about smoking weed (time window closed as all things tend to do for potheads, hmm, funny thing that) came by the central. we had just gotten busy so i didn’t really have a chance to talk and he was leaving anyway, but, as he left he slips me a five (just cos, didn’t even serve him) and proclaims pretty much to the entire bar i just want to tell you something, thank you for inspiring me to write. i threw my arms around him, said something retarded, then went back to work.
these little encounters/interactions with human beings are exactly the reason why i do this.
earlier on in the afternoon i bumped into jessica at some little coffee spot, my bladder was full and there wasn’t a bathroom. she was wearing shades in the window sitting alone, called out RAYMI to me. we gab for a bit and she opens up about depression. i tell her, don’t let it consume you, see the light at the end of it all, your stress, your life, your work, school, it’s only temporary. don’t let it be the bigger. i’m a sad, sad guy sometimes. i can find ten thousand reasons to be sad and sometimes i find i rather enjoy indulging myself in grandiose self-proclomations of oh my, i just can’t go on. but i know that i can because i’m not done failing at life yet and you aren’t either.
yesterday was such a great time, the weather, the company, the lets just amble and those days are reasons to not be sad, to not pack’er in cos you know there’ll be more and more of them.
it was suggested i take emo raymi and run with her for awhile. write a suicide letter a day. i think that would ring the alarm a little much but what are suicide letters if not but self love letters, no? dear world this is me and why you can no longer have me. it’s one’s last missive and truest self-realisation i think which is quite a pity but yes, write yourself a love letter a day, really fall in love with yourself. i guess that’s what i’m already doing here.
it’s not that i wanted to be famous, i just wanted to be something and i knew i’d have to make do with the looks i’ve got to make that happen. you try being flat as fuck with a big nose, see how quickly you grow a personality. blogging is merely my instrument.
harlettes rehearsal has been bumped an extra hour so now i got some time to dick around a little more, my personal favourite. i think i’m goin’ with the name Babette Von Vamp if they don’t poo poo it on me. maybe i’ll look up some Transylvanian names.
have an awesome day.
no wait, one more pretentious thing before i go. when i just moved in with mel and lucas i discovered the shower radio, for some point or other i mentioned it and how i liked groovin’ in there some days. it was posed to me, why, or, big deal rather. to which i said, it just makes me feel a part of the world which for the most part i make a point to notice how much i don’t feel a part of anything. ever.
time for some new shorts. i was so close to cutting a pair of highwaisters that aren’t mine. pretty sure that’s worse than banging your friend’s ex boyfriend. probably.
that took forever to wash off my hand. cool idea!
paaaaaaaatio.
cigarette paul got his way and got us over to his afterhours around the corner.
no captions rushing to get out of here.
tattoo healing looks like crap. here’s the third thing i’ve ripped off allison. guess the first two.
turns out it was not hot enough for beach weather which essentially was a good thing as it forced me to be somewhat adult and do some rhasta bodega shopping. tomorrow mayhaps i’ll plant my hangover in the sand for a few hours.
ok i think the birthday blues are hitting me, or premenstrual, combo. i will probably cry at some point(s) tonight. GAYYYY.
the only thing i did on this list was mail postcard. well no i got some mix and snacks and food. but no coffeebeans which was the first thing i wanted to get. everything is closed today, way to fuck shit up for us heathens, damn catholics. i said that to our cab driver in niagara falls and he chuckled, then it got awkward like, we were collectively trying to figure out how far to go with it. then it was simply dropped. religion talk is oh so boring. that gumball machine is a magnet from the falls. it reminds me of my brother, a finger painting he did in preschool that’s in his baby book. SEE i have a heart.
it’s been far too long since i’ve done a meticulously boring raymi’s kitchen post. i eat like a frat boy now, when you don’t have anyone else to cook for you are so what’s the point about it. everything here cost 29 bucks. not bad.
two orders of thigh/drum for ten bucks. didn’t feel like dealing with raw and marinating also, nothing open so just go to the experts.
i’d really like some rum on hand ’round the clock to mix with pineapple or ginger beer, pina colada. jameson and grey goose will have to do for the nite unless a post post party comes by this way then i’ll order some booze.
roommates gone for the weekend, neither responded to my where is the olive oil text so butter and fancy olive oil (i’ll replenish) it is.
normally i do a yellow pepper cos they’re sweeter and seem to absorb jerk perfectly.
don’t brown your onions too much they’ll just get lost, you want ‘em kinda fat and slimy. throw that other crap in there. don’t forget to keep tabs on your basmati.
use any beans you want. drain the water out of the can (moron) and give ‘em a quick rinse through a strainer.
filthy stove not my doing (is clean now). throw your jerk chicken in there, remove the skin if you want or just put it in your mouth. inhale one of the drumsticks cos you are starving.
pour some of the jerk juice up in hurr, don’t waste the flavour. you could also pour some into the rice but don’t use it all, just cos, i don’t think your heart will be happy about it in the long run.
i was going to get brown rice basmati but was worried it would take longer to cook and apparently i have somewhere to be and don’t have the extra five minutes for brown rice?
gorgeous and i only used half the jar of jerk cos i already bought seasoned chicken. used to do this with rotisserie chicken from loblaws too for other retarded made up dishes. so healthy haha.
mad leftovers. looks like i’ll be seein’ thru time all weekend long (shit is hot, guy).
here’s an attractive one, snotting out my nose greasy as hell. i should show up to party tonite like this all fat stomach john belushi-styles. see i was dressed to sweat it the f out in the sand. sad face.
when i was walking around queen west i was thinking about how my summer day activities were going to be whimsical, grimy and awesome. wake ‘n bake, make some art, write, put on some stupid outfit, go buy some odds and ends, cook it up, hit the beach. ride my bike. fantastic. it feels like summer was only just here. my mind has blanketed out a lot of the last several months. i still have new city eyes and i still feel like a lovely ghost most of the time. i feel alive and new and special, even when i’m sad, i still find some reason not to be.
following a fantastic nite and day away i come home to this.
shucks.
haha in the background it looks like a jerk-off nitestand. the tp is for nail polish remover. the lotion is for tattoo, lay off me perverts!
so meaningful. even my tears are barfing right now.
perfect.
gorgeous vintage choker previously owned by an awesome g-ma. maybe i’ll wear it tonite.
left a few trinkets on their bed. melodie will laugh her balls off at that pin, got one for clem too as he is a sexist mawfucker. lucas gets 2pac. can’t show you the necklace cos i got one for all the girls at central and i know they lurk this thing. it’s bad enough i already blew my stupid postcard surprise because i am an impatient lunatic.
i whimpered out loud when i opened this sucker up.
i almost fainted too. had to take a seat.
gaaaaaaaah!
insane.
still in shock. this is like, meant for me.
guess my next party will be WINO EYE-MAKEUP themed. rules are, you don’t get to start applying eyeliner til after you blow over .08 then we all head to wrong bar.
