and now it’s gone, my ganglion friend. i will not miss you. sniff.
look at the little man-eater and proud mother looking up at her. aw. britt’s depression over 25 totally floors me. she once said i was inspiring or something cos i’m fine with my age and i don’t act it, what? how was that a compliment again? it sort of was. either way, i enjoy GEN-Y’s lamenting their 20’s leaving them as, ahem, i typically have shadowed some person’s in the older than me category since i was a smug teenager and not a one will let you feel sorry for yourself for ten fucking seconds. like, just because you are cruisin’ mid to late thirties (or, and then some) doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to feel shitty for a little while here. you’re you and i’m me. so, cry away britt, the older you get the better you are, the more shit becomes clear and you have ample time ahead to fuck it all up two times over and still come out alright on the other side. basically, the sadder you are, the more i am smiling, not that i am enjoying your emo but, well, i understand and it simply just amuses me to be so angry about something like “aging” jesus, holy lead-in.
bohmer is a great spot, a couple private back rooms for your gang if you want it. that’s darrin pfeiffer (remember goldfinger? their drummer. ROCK ROYALTY!) hoggin’ up the view of that lit-up tapestry you’ll see more of his mug to come as well as photos of many others you don’t know or give a shit about.
so hot right now.
i swear to GOD any one of the men in my life if you go to bohmer without me (because of me) you are dead to me. D-E-A-D. don’t think i won’t find out about it either. fatal attraction much ha.
oh, but of course.
barry‘s shot was much more crisp but whatevs already posted it.
classic photographer oh no no please oh no no not me pose. GAY! GET OVER IT!
the menu looks like a letter from the principal or someone. bohmer’s signature is at the top right corner. it would be cool if i was being paid for this post hey?
darrin mocking my shit.
and i’m pretty certain you all remember this skinny guy.
brosz7 i would like to discuss your thoughts on lost this week please thank you. also i can’t believe there isn’t ONE picture of me on your website. thumbs down, waaay down.
oh brad such a spaz. is it the newf blood? ps. come by the central to meet aaron our resident newftender.
apparently britt’s mum reads my blog. i was all worried about putting the F word on britt’s envelope, i x’d it out as you’ll see in a minute, then she pulls that little piece of info out on me so we’re all good here FUCK FUCK FUCCCCCCCK HI!
i spy with my little eye something that is WENDI! and cam carpenter!
oh i forgot to show you guys what my bathroom looks like.
sigh. design.
no words.
got the gin fizz something or other (cheapest drink, 6.50 i believe).
uggg it’s MY birthday on wednesday. party is on friday april 2nd at, where else, THE CENTRAL. you are all invited. i’m having a big ass blythe cake made! should i make an fb event for this? it’s going to be a massive dance party, well, i know I’LL be dancing my ass off. also, amy tang’s birthday is the same nite at the same place. woooh.
darrin’s special lady friend melanie is so poshin’ it replete with brit accent.
look at me pounding that sucker back. awkward times man plus totally frazzled from whatever the crap i did the nite prior (oh right the blogstars event which had several after parties) on top of being sick on top of bickering with my ex across the table from me hahah. last week was a harsh mistress.
ta-da!
ooh matt take.it.off.
when i read on the road this is exactly what i pictured. i was like oh yes, sign me up for some-a that.
i don’t care for your music opinions buy some fuckin records and shut up already
(love you)
i’m the funny one, you’re the bratty one. DEAL WITH IT.
it was for $40 for you nosy ones. sorta cheap but i figure more appreciated than the magic pony crap i typically unload on everybody. it’s so true people always get you stuff they want for themselves. LOOK i got you an ounce of pot!
didn’t even recognize this bro at first because he wasn’t wearing jogging pants.
this amused me for awhile. BEST WHILE EVER!
here come the party tricks.
what’s darrin doing over there….?
ohh shit hold up darrin. ok here’s a partial truth admission cos i’m pretty honest and forthright, right? when britt and brad got together it kinda got the gearworks goin’ in my head a little bit seeing how affectionate they were (still are!) i was like BINGO that’s what i am missing. not knocking myself or my other past half i think our chemistry was pretty solid and all but publicly you wouldn’t know we were a pair and often got mistaken for siblings (when i was brunette) but yeah as much as everyone gives britt and brad a hard deal over kissing and cuddling (and smothering one another’s lights out) i think it’s wonderful and beautiful. this is how it’s supposed to be. be selfish in your love lifes. do not hide them. be romantic. that’s the shit that keeps relationships alive. so in a small way you guys broke us up. way to go.
every time he’d stack it 4 glasses higher i’d take it down before i could capture it.
and then haitham is all, i got this.
if you can get this 5 out from between these bottles you get to keep it.
sets it up.
this is where your money’s been people.
yes yes good work balancing. as a side note, remember i made a rant about devil horns in photos? since then i’ve had to stick to it and have been for many years, any photos whereby someone is “rocking” the devil horns it goes right in the trash (well lives on my hard drive) because i’m sorry, just, no. however there are little allowances and they are, IRONIC devil horns as well as, i dunno, say you wrestled a bear with your bare hands for your life and you choked it into submission i am preeeetty certain in the photograph your bud takes of you astride that beast it would be permissable to rock a devil horn or two. get me? so darrin, this one gets a pass. BARELY, but still, a pass is a pass.
he sort of got it out, the top bottle still wobbled he had to catch it.
the roast chicken or ferme something whatever. 24 bones. worth it. instead of getting two apps which would essentially total a main, just get the main (but only if you are a cheapskate artist like me and dining on your own dime).
so bourgeois. you only live once.
hair was a little wildly stupid sort of. made more sense in real life and once i started cuttin’ a rug at alicia‘s later on.
broken wrist.
here let me show you.
comparing normal and not normal
yup, definitely not a straight-looking wrist there.
holy crap you are red, cam. or maybe i was just soaking up all the flash because i am a princess dirtbag and i absorb anything bright or shiny. lights were made for me oh and get ready for the guide to dirtbag princessness in my upcoming FORA mag beauty column.
ok well now i’m just showing off. someone sprayed red wine all over the back of that gypsy shirt later that night. AWESOME! i think it was that drunk chick alicia had to kick out of her house hahah.
the bump on the left is the ganglion cyst. two can play at this gross game cam oh my god why why all i say lately is TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME? and last nite i said something really nerdy too i said don’t be a stranger just be strange. BAHAHAHah ughhhhhh give me a break it was at 3 in the friggin’ morning (closing up work).
but now the ganglion is gone. i dunno if it’s from barry’s tantric massage or from slamming it at some point while dancing with jenny.
haha the point. yes that’s where my hand is.
cured! not so. but it felt better.
this post is sucking the life out of me there goes my afternoon. resting up for round two work haul and THEN i have my harlettes audition tomorrow before noon and then have to work another night shift. i’m nervous and excited. kamila coincidentally hooked me up with a black leotard and this cute little black/pink lace flippy cheerleader slut skirt i am so going to wear for it (audition). should i wear a bra?
the outside of bohmer, so gauche i love it not even a sign letting you know its name. it’s like, fuck you here we are, got that?
reminds me of this great japanese joint in williamsburg i went to with jamie a hundred years ago. ossington is so becoming a hybrid of the LES and williamsburg and i’m on board. no more making fun of ossington hipsters and yuppies, i’m a west end girl now. suck it.
make sure you get your photo taken out front. everyone needs some soft lighting up on ‘em.
and you can lock your bike out front for three days and it won’t get jacked.
the subtle disappointment on my face is somewhat evident. to me at least. i was trying to contain it because i have this thing called manners. my voice is nasally too cos i was trying to un-courtney love it. i’m still a bit phlegmy from being sick and doing absolutely nothing to remedy it aside from cold pill avalanche and now i have kennel cough hahaha.
i’m sure adil‘s footage will be much better and less faaaaarty. (come on new camera new camera new camera, wink).
you go in there and look at this shit and say to yourself, yeah, i totally need that. i don’t know why, but i do. i just do.
someone asked me about how i got my frye boots. you can get them from get outside. i got mine free from a special awesome bud under hilarious circumstances. they ain’t cheap though.
also, my hair, how is it shiny? um, i didn’t know it was. i kinda baby the hell out of it and kind of leave it alone for a while. i don’t use any serum post wash/dry. it’s just healthy and resilient despite totally artificial looking. not sure if i’ll go more platinum or not. i think i’m good with where it’s at now.
totally off topic….but your site is fun to read at work…its been keeping me sane the last couple of days…anyway, just had to comment that you seem so much happier since you moved from the burbs. You glow now…your hair is prettier, your skin is glowing and your spirit just seems more at peace…sorry, if im totally off, as i don’t know you…just my observation.
i think your awesome, you seem care free and live a life I wish i could. Im totally living vicariously through you this week!
aw dude exactly. what a gold comment. i don’t care what the shit (other) people are saying, i love my life right now. i do what i want, when i want, how i want, with who i want, for how long i want. actually, here’s a comment i just left elsewhere.
i will die a crazy spinster before giving in to the rest of society’s standards. i was this close to blowing it then i broke free. i have never been happier. who has time to worry about the future. rippin’ it now is awesome. AWESOME.
i love the jesus is in you sign across from wrongbar. so intentional. save the young heathens. you can’t see shit in this pic though. when you go out for a dart just look up and over, you’ll see it.
interesting bonds be made out on the smoke stoop.
i know retarded shit was said i just don’t know what it was, not even at the time. but it was funny. strange so doesn’t even phase me anymore. tune it right out.
feeling this mr. rogers look.
don’t think i won’t do it. oh and as an aside everyone at wrongbar thank you for making me look super good in front of my date last nite. nav, linds, ewan, steve, every single one said look it’s raymi the miiiinx one after the other so good ha. never such a reception, the timing was on too i felt like a d-bag but whatever. then i pretended to be humble about it. then the zipper on my hello kitty clutch exploded off. then Dustman dutty d lost my hat. losing something means successful evening i gather. you think shit’s gonna go tame and then it never ever does.
talking about weird try playing an mj video game where he dies over and over like double dragon and comes back to life but when he dies he’s flat on his face with his hat falled off. what’s next an anna nicole smith pinball game? ha i wish.
ohhhh shit.
i can share the stage though, here’s your moment moonwalker.
yeah i’m so hard.
whomever spun last nite, it was goood. i have to admit this, i kinda like dirty grime dub. still. nostalgic for shit you barely liked the first time around but it’s better now, they’ve taken out the too many donks aspect to it. google ‘put a donk on it’ if you’re going huh??? right now. though, i will dance to anything (almost) and i like showin’ off my slick moves when the music is juust right. people are giving me grief over how too skinny i apparently am now. look, i’m not starving, i eat and i eat well. i’m just in shape on top of close to nil body fat from all the dancing i do and being single (singlish) keeps you on your game. i am not actively trying to lose or doing anything purposely to be looking the way i look right now in the body so, sorry. i’m ripped, for once. i was purposely jutting out my shoulder like that to increase the clavicle quotient cos i am fun like that.
dust kept rap attacking this guy who got all white about it but appreciated the ten thousand freestyle hostages, he’d put his hand to his mouth all mr. wilson and be like, that is good or whatever. pretty funny but hellooo look at that guy’s makeup in the sideground there, what’s up apocalypto.
here’s the video at mitzi’s sister from yesterday adil of mycitylives.com shot of me gabbin’ away about how much i like the place. if you go to the site and type in a place across the city it just may come up video form with a review of the place delivered by some other toronto notable. after this we went to magic pony and then the central. videos of those to come later. hit this link to see a map of the city with the pop up video to mitzi’s. it’s cute super cool and unique, the site concept i mean.
then i changed because i wasn’t feeling my jacket and it was a little hot.
kristin is aaaadorable and so modest and shy and funny. we haz a history yo.
took a little to-go’er from m pony. bilby the tear drip. drop?
blah blah blah great hash.
red flag’s bro.
abi came by. then gill. impromptu hang out of nowhere, pretty fun and caj.
mean gene chez ace of spades, diamond smuggler on the side.
i too am getting another tattoo, soon. not sure what of yet though. apparently if i get RAYMI that would be “gay”. i’m also thinking of a flower off nirvana’s unplugged live in new york sleeve and then of course some sort of border for blythe. ok thanks byeeeee.
update: Torontoist‘s take on our soshe media circle jerk which i have more to say about (good things)(of value!) at some point when i have two seconds to myself oh my gawsh jeez!
kamila’s first time at sneaky dee’s! also their jamesons is 3.75 a shot! !!HUHU!>??
rajiv is aaron’s roommate and he’s in some band i dunno a big deal or something (WAS in oh no forest fires but they’re dead now), or his brother is, or they both are don’t even get me started on how much i confuse the two it drives me nuts and fucks with my buzz. aaron works at the central with me. that’s mia, she runs in their crew. she is awesome and when we hang it’s a you’re awesome no YOU’RE awesome competition. which is great cos i was a super shy wiener when i met everyone i thought they all hated me. i know hey! me? hated? pfft.
two can play at this, ponyboy. also i have no idea who is on my shirt. it’s the one that yells. claudia schiffer? seal’s wife yeah i know but is that her name? meh. i swear a seal could take over my blog and no one would fucking notice. oh man i didn’t even mean to say seal two times in a row and now three hahah.
blahaha we’re so funny omg i know right blahaha ugh barf.
kam brought the funk and she brought it good.
jesus alright already we get it. if you were at sneaky dee’s last nite or know anything about music please tell me what band that guy is in (or don’t i really don’t care). it was the balconies playing and then 400 other people from bands doing 60s/70s covers and do you think i knew who any of them were? make your exit was one band, um, i forget the rest. put it in the comments if you were paying attention.
think we have a dance move theme on the horizon. man we cut loose. i’ll tell you my toronto dance theory vs. us in a second.
no comment.
Kam Sam nachos time!
Raymi Lauren White
where!?
Kam Sam
sneaky dees, wanna come?
Raymi Lauren White
come to my hood for once!!
(then we texted and i OBVIOUSLY buckled)
Raymi Lauren White
just think if i didnt read this i wouldnt be hung as fuck right now hahahaha
THANKS INTERNET
so we give’r at the central when we close down and dance the floor into pieces i feel largely because we’re serving all nite long seeing everyone else cut loose and party then once last call rolls around we’re all THAT’S FUCKING IT turn the music to what we wanna hear and just straight rip it. customers are like whaaaaaat? we’re all this is our bar move out of my way if you don’t want a dance move in the eye. so then you go out to conservatively acting music loving venues where people don’t dance like orangutans and you’re all, oh right, i’m in the real world right now maybe tone it down to a 6. i asked kamila if i was too wasted dancing and she said no then i realised that was like asking fire if you were hot because she was ten sheets to the wind i was trying to function my drunk to kind of oversee her business cos out of nowhere she was plastered, i wasn’t. i drink like a fat british man, forever and ever and i can handle it (not in the mornings though but…) plus jamesons was 3.75 so turning down that deal would just be pure stupidity. i’m also a nervous drinker and i’m nervous all the time. nervous all the time plus 3.75 plus fat british man i think you get what i’m saying here.
the other brother romesh who didn’t have a beard the last time i met him so i of course was all hey insert the hybrid combination name i have for rajiv/romesh that escapes me now and only comes out when my drinking alter-ego “little pharma” appears (melodie made that one up) this paragraph makes no sense. i am dyslexic. romesh is in hey rosetta. THE END. no wait we were talking about scotch vs whiskey and i said my grandpa drank cheap scotch all the time despite being rich as shit, why the cheap stuff? i offered (i ask questions then i answer them) that perhaps it was because dude was all, i am going to be drinking a loooot of this shit so i may as well get used to the cheap stuff. he wasn’t a cheap man at all either. romesh said, no wait this was a rajiv story. who cares. point is they had a four hundred dollar bottle of scotch around christmas time and their dad isn’t really a drinker, they get home, dad has drunk the bottle entirely, they were like daaaad that bottle was worth four hundred dollars! dad’s all, baaaah, it wasn’t even good.
in summation, it doesn’t matter how expensive the scotch is, it will ALWAYS taste like awful gasoline paint thinner henceforth, whiskey prevails. scotch is just a better word, more eloquent and prestigious sounding.
ps. there is ANOTHER brother with an R name these guys have. FUCKKKKK. romin? ronin? ROHAN! i love that place!
hahahaha
yeah i dunno what’s going on here.
i get really jealous at concerts. i feel like storming the stage then i remember that i suck at everything.
i get angry when the singer fucks up my favourite song though. it only happened a few times. all in all, killer performance by one and all and a totally good theme. everyone loves covers and getting shitty to them.
wild pictures always come out of dee’s backlighting.
ok i am getting sick of looking at this guy. he drank chocolate milk off a post office box last nite on our way up bathurst. he habitually eats garbage for a laugh to gross everyone out. it fucking worked!
ooh the scarves.
i showed up in a thermal waffle shirt (that is adorable) but then i started movin’ and was all this has got to go. glad i always stuff a costume change in my bag and fyi. yeah, don’t wear thermal shirts to concerts.
do you think that little red splotch is skin cancer?
i just remembered mia knocking my drink out of my hand all over our feet it was pretty funny. i’m glad she did i didn’t need it anyway.
i’m skinnier than the model on my shirt. ha no i’m not. though i might be.
knock knock
who’s there?
SKINNY!
great finale everyone up together who am i brooklnvegan man music write ups are so cheesy. oh yeah i haven’t even blogged my vivian girls nite yet. feh.
the singer chick was on.
then we got held hostage mentally while getting shawarmas. we were blitzed, they were certainly on something and it was sooooo sloooooow. asking to pay like totally insulted one of the dudes. like hurry up please can we get the fuck out of here yet? how come during the day it’s rapid fire assembly line but right now it’s 20 minutes and we’re the first in line? because everyone was stuh-oned.
i hate drinking. why can’t they just let you smoke weed indoors?
danny is the shit.
when i meet docile cats and make a big deal about them people are always like, what do you mean? get over it. i’m all no no, you don’t know where i’ve been (cid).
if it’s hump day and you’re not gettin’ humped, do something about it.
i rode my bike for the first time and it was terrible and horrible and amazing. it was raining. i have to break half a block before needing to stop otherwise i plow into people or have to perform bike “tricks” off curbs which is pretty awesome if you’re standing around waiting for whatever to happen to you and then i come along and happen right in front of you. i like to check out my reflection a lot while zipping around but i realized today i probably shouldn’t be doing that while drag racing taxis and arrogant dudes in beamers. especially in the rain.
it’s not that i’m conceited it’s just, i put effort into my “look” and i spend a lot of time alone and i’m sort of insecure and agoraphobic, so then i finally get out of the house which takes piles of effort and makeup and hair being did and a cute outfit, maybe i should get to check that shit out a little too, no?
the first dealer i dated, one of his friends commented that this girl (me) looks in the mirror A LOT. i didn’t know i did that until it was pointed out. then i was like, fuck, he’s right. that dealer spent a good portion of time making me feel like shit about myself to keep me in line (try it dicks, it works) and so every time i’d get up off the couch at whatever party we were at i’d pass the hallway mirror and be like, blown away by how cute i was. not saying i was totally babely (even though i was pretty on my game at the time) or anything i was just so dominated mentally i forgot that i looked pretty at all so it would be a major headfuck being confronted by my appearance every time i took a piss. i’d come back into the living room a whole new person. confident. then i’d start engaging with others in the room, abandon my wallflowerishness for an hour or two.
so, these are my thoughts when you catch me bewildered by my own reflection. i am bipolar. i feel ugly and beautiful at the same time, all of the time. i am vain and i am humble. barf barf barf when i sat down this was not the vision i had for this whimsical little post.
had an inspiring lunch with an old hombre at il gato nero. talked some business. exchanged ideas. things keep snowballing. momentum building.
i have an earache from the windy cold bike ride home. almost rode into a woman outside the lcbo on brock. treated myself to a bottle of jamesons (for the house) and some red wine, chit-chatted with the clerk who used to work out of the liquor store i used to go to in the annex, i figured he got fired for sexual harassment or something cos he flirts a mean streak. nope, just transferred.
i have no plans for the evening.
i need to go to the dentist my teeth are hurting. i drink way too much coffee.
thanks for subscribing to the raymi times. xo for now.
eye makeup slightly fucked. i think i have hay-fever. what’s that shit called when your eyes water up when spring hits? allergies, hay-fever? blah. i’m pretty sure there isn’t any hay in toronto.
our waitress was a bitch. he said it first, i’m just backing it.
fresh in from mexico. ugh.
ate like pigs.
il gato nero is a funny spot for me personally. one, it is on the street where my toronto residing life first began and two, because of this and how lazy i am, it is the scene where i first ever met with a venture capitalist who wanted to make bank off me (didn’t happen).
i’ve met with several venture capitalist types over the years and it’s all fine and dandy until contract time comes along. essentially, they want to own you and the rights to everything you invented. so deals fall through but at least you got a panini out of it haha.
this time around shit’s different though. have you heard of a life rights option agreement? i sort of had before but today it makes way more sense. ok that’s enough teasing for now.
Good evening Lauren!
Still in french! sorry!
Depuis le temps que je lis ton blog, je dois admettre que de nombreux posts m’ont touché à un point que je ne saurais décrire. Celui-là en fait parti!
Autant se dévoiler peut faire peur, autant ce peut être un jeu, avec toutes les répercutions que celà engendre. Pour ma part, j’en ai fait les frais et m’en suis sorti grandi comme jamais et riche d’une expérience sans pareil. Et dans la société qui t’entoure, il faut des reins solides!
Donc je te décerne un césar, parceque tu le mérites!
Pas de blogs valables, de mecs: pas de couilles! Timides! Trops fiers! Ou comme ça ne doit pas pleurer, ça ne parle pas!
Dommage!
Une petite devise:
Who dares, win! And above all: keep pressure!
Je n’irai pas jusqu’à avouer mes sentiments à ton égard, on me prendrai pour un dingue. C’est grâce à eux que je t’écris d’ailleurs! Donc je reste dans l’ombre! Et non, je ne suis pas dingue!
P.S: pour te faire une idée, je fais partie de ta liste de contacts facebook et nous avons nos initiales en commun.
please learn english you say such beautiful things! on fridays at work there is french club and i get guys to translate your comments to me and then they fall in love with me over what you say about me. haha.
babelfish says this:
Since time that I read your blog, I must admit that many posts touched me at a point which I could not describe. That one in fact left! As much to reveal itself can make fear, as much it can be a play, with all reflected them that generates. For my part, I made of them the expenses and me left there grown like never and rich person an experiment without similar. And in the company which surrounds you, one needs solid kidneys! Thus I decree you a césar, because you it merits! No valid blogs, guys: no testicles! Shy persons! Trops proud! Or as that does not have to cry, that does not speak! Too bad! A small currency: Who dares, win! And above all: keep presses! I will not go until acknowledging my feelings in your connection, one will take to me for a nutcase. It is thanks to them that I write to you besides! Thus I remain in the shade! And not, I am not nutcase! P.S: to make you an idea, I belong to your contact list facebook and we have our initial in common.
