old friend steve-o in town for work hooks his ass up with a penthouse suite at the castle, fuck yeah on my way over before the ice even has a chance to sweat.
brace yourselves to be bored vicariously via tedious photos and desperate captions.
i know steve through that guy i used to get with. haven’t seen steve since before the breakup heard ’round the world. feels like yesterday, feels like forever.
we hired a hooker.
if this is a penthouse suite then what the crap do the normal rooms look like?
lady gaga making us nervous. brit awards were on last nite. everyone was on drugs!
i was going to order pizza pizza then i realised duhh i’m in a hotel.
never impressed by hotel food. it’s like after they make it they send it through a make it shittier contraption on its way up to you.
be careful now you might have fun.
i got’cher fun right here.
look how pacified i am i miss tv so much. do you like my new hat? i should wear it to kilgour’s they’re habs fans over there.
fil is smiling because meredith said she told her mom a street joke he blogged. street jokes are what comedians refer to commoner’s jokes by that ‘oft get retold. what arrogant little tits eh? here’s a street joke, it’s me braining you.
no tip, you left your shirt on.
dreamer eyelashes. lady gaga made me state that if i were to ever host a raymi party with hired good looking chicks milling about for some reason, i’d make them have white feather eyelashes.
bad subject, good lighting.
was into the light square reflection in my pupils though i’m into everything so what else is new? nothing.
aaaaaaah-dorable oh shut up over there.
two can play at this.
man gossip is loads gayer than girl gossip and by gayer i mean boring and by boring i mean heard this story ten times already.
i’m so fucking fat right now. no really, my period is super duper late. i think it’s trying to align with all the new bitches’s in my life, my insane sleep schedule, perpetual stress and awful diet. i even took a preggo test yesterday to be sure and boy what fun those three waiting minutes were. i think it might be time to finally swap out my iud for a new one before i become infertile or lose my period forever?
yoga time.
forget what this one’s called, haven’t wii fitted in awhile. the spine stretching blood rush to head black out inducing no dignity neck paralyzer?
time for obliques. it’s the plank. well it was until some asshole decided to slam me into the bed. that wasn’t supposed to come off as sexy as it just did.
hold this for as long as possible. both sides. a good thirty seconds per is fine. don’t do it on a soft bed cloud though you’ll just crumple into it.
try for twenty seconds then you wimp.
beatrix potter clock awwwwww.
subtle refill motivator.
trying to scare fat americans into starvation. can you follow it up with something on uggs and crocs and jogging pants please?
you’ve aged well.
party down.
time to go go.
oh stop it liars you love the attention. you are full of bull shit covered in dog shit wrapped in horse shit rolled in elephant dung etc etc and so on.
and see, what we have here is honesty. refreshing, ain’t it.
bye bye thanks for making me feel poor and for making meredith feel like pretty woman. then we went to 7-11 for taquitos (bad new intro to uh oh) candy and chips, inhaled everything over a brew at the done right then called her a nite.
lamer pics what didn’t make the cut can be found here.
in case you didn’t know what cold lampin‘ looked like, this is fuckin’ it! remember who brung you the cool. not anyone other than me. “To just chill out and relax usually sittin on a nice fat blunt. I’m lampin’ in the Hamptons like, “What the fuck is a hammock?” – Lil Wayne”
now here’s a close-up for the people in the back.
alright, enough of that.
this is what an anxiety attack looks like. striking.
great biz pow wow lunch after i already ate lunch. proof of how single i am, me and my valentines chocolates about twenty days after the fact. oh shopper’s discount rack how you make a fool outta me.
lube run!
why you gotta take triple A batteries? annoying. no buy.
cute buy for me. one sticker for my laptop and one for the kitchen door at work. new journal to remind myself to write more often.
shhhquiet something cute is about to happen.
now again, not done.
i woulda got into it more if everybody wasn’t being all conservatively judgy over there jesus. you work in condom shack, you have a fucking stripper pole. way to be encouraging.
thanks you too.
really what you should be defending is how much of a hard-on you are.
i have so many feelings right now look at me gooooooo.
and now i will continue work on my postsecret ripping opus. just checking in making sure you don’t forgets me.
hello good day just a few things i wanted to discuss with you.
one, i ate a hard boiled egg in bed yesterday because my life is like the movie amalie.
i feel like a hard boiled egg on your bedside table is probably the most adorable thing in the world. prior to it i had tapioca pudding. i know, sorry for breaking your heart.
and when you’re a gorgeous shit for brains, well, you can pretty much do anything you want.
melodie’s midterm is finally over we celebrated last nite at ronnie’s.
then i baked a cake.
have you guys seen this video yet?
now read the following!
Heya,
Short and sweet. Unfamiliar Records 5th Anniversary Party is this Friday, March 5th.
It’s kind of a weird spot called Cryptic Canvas hidden behind a building off of King & Portland, should be fun.
Just in case here is a google map link so you can see how to get there: http://bit.ly/cPJdsX
This is our only show until the EP release party, which will be mid/late May.
Unfamiliar Records 5th Year Anniversary Showcase
Friday, March 5th
Makeout Videotape (Vancouver)
RatTail Stop Die Resuscitate
The Two Koreas
DJ Mikey Apples
$5 – 8 Waterloo Terrace (Cryptic Canvas – King/ Bathurst behind Living Lighting on King)
ok bye now i have to clean the jizz out of my bangs and go meet casie sean and carly to discuss our blog seminar thinger. though i don’t really know what to discuss aside from ok when am i on and how long do you need me to say a lot of nothing for? just kidding i’m jazzed. and drunk still.
now that winter is practically over it’s about time i found these babes. one is bigger than the other, each was knitted by a different person. v apropos for my demented world.
i love you.
she’s an extra small, still loose. yes we know that’s the style but i still wanted it tighter. we’ll make do.
a small, glad didn’t give in to my ego and select an xs. thought it was a dress. so isn’t. you’ll see.
my samurai transformation has begun.
dreamy. i don’t know what appendage that little copper thing is.
so nautical right now.
finally picked up all my clothes off my tickle trunk floor. that rug from ikea is the perfect fit, forget how much it was.
black socks, sexy town.
not one good pic came out of this yesterday. too much sun, not complaining. just will be needing a new location for my outfit shots. think i’m going to hang my red velvet drapes on those doors so it’ll lessen the appears to be living in squalor effect and the browns will all match on the windows.
shag dog bangs: the poor woman’s face lift.
so not a dress. maybe on a teenager.
damn i had fantasies of black tights legs for miles but now i’ll have to throw a skirt or some shorts into the mix which will take away from the streamlined-effect i was hoping to go for. i know sass would just go ahead and wear this with tights. love her bravery. fuck it, black leggings it is. welcome to ass town. population: still got it.
adorable puffy sleeves. robot pose. idiot.
i’ll take better pictures some other time. maybe i’ll wear this friday.
totally practical new (vintage) jacket. 15 bucks. it’ll do me fine come spring, which will last two weeks then it’s summer ahhhh. i don’t know one girl who isn’t horny for spring like a motherfucker right now.
you are going to be so sick of this necklace.
and the whole nautical thing is up there with owls. why am i so ashamed of trend-following? thanks hipsters. there are so many things i have outright avoided playing along with because of the social connotations that go along with. scarves for one. gladiator sandals, which i would kill it in cos i have teeny ankles. i can’t think of anything else right now also this just in, who cares anymore? ME! FOREVER!
hey gong shows, how’s your news? i made bangs yesterday. they don’t look as shitty today. i feel annoyed at myself for doing it but then i remember why i did it and quickly get over the self-loathing. so what it’ll take ten minutes longer getting ready? so what i have to wash them everyday. so what i look like a fucking beatle now. i was sleeping, that fitful sleep where you can’t stop thinking about what you will be doing upon waking up. deep anxiety sleep. in my head i repeated to myself bangs haircut bangs haircut bangs when you wake up you will have bangs oh what an idiot. so i did it. way to ruin summer.
by nite’s beginning yesterday, kamila and i on our way to see a movie at scotiabank after a long full day of shopping.
olympic hockey game nite. dragged my ass late to the central, picked up forty dollars worth of baked goods from futures (underwhelming) and sat on a pew wedged between everybody sweating sketchily hungover, then once a few sips of sapporo hit my lips hay-o drunk town.
very touching to take it in crammed elbow-to-elbow all yelling and cheering and sigh, nationalistic hard-ons.
breaking these in nicely. i’m a size 8 on a fat day. i think winter shrinks your feets up.
listening to the city celebrating, helicopters overhead. pleasing feeling. i’ll blog the majority of this day tomorrow, have far too many pics piled up.
i love people’s reactions to the couch room. is this someone’s house? is typically the winner.
in love with desolation. i remember working at the hardware store going out for butts and staring out into the grey mississauga joylessness thinking one day soon i will move to toronto and my life will be so glamorous. now i stare into city greyness, but it certainly isn’t joyless. wherever you go, there you are. wow i love craft beer in the afternoons can you tell.
obnox. will be giving a talk with casie and sean the day after st. patrick’s. cool scheduling hahah. come see me in action.
i had a modestly-sized cheese empanada to start, kamila had this enormous corn pie. i helped her out but holy burrito, gratuitous much.
this cat simply did not give a fuck. solid. i fall in love with everybody draped along this coffee spot patio so much so i dread walking by it. no idea what it’s called and if you tell them i love them i will so KILL YOU!
i’ve taken a picture of this wall a billion times.
kam has gorge eyes. eating in a chilean resto following their earthquake made me feel a little sheepish. sigh. oh well, my favourite wine is from chile, they are the only guys who use the carmenere grape and it is the only non-local wine i will buy (stuff it hippies) so i’ll go get a case to show my support. done. problem solved. saint raymi, out. (did i give anyone a pretentious wine boner? good).
duuuuuuuuuuh.
you’d still hit it, right?
ha curling sweaters sign in the background and in the background of that which you can’t see were two igloos spurting maple syrup out their tops, and the smell of bacon frying.
love this kensington gem. i think they import their stuff from japan. it’s a hodge podge of vintage and screen-printed hipster shirts. i bought this one.
but not this. one, because we couldn’t figure out what it said and two it was basically a nightgown and i am too old to do kooky, i think.
but never too old to do teenage boy music nerd who gets laid never.
new sandal kicks for spring. it would be nice if i had the wherewithal to get myself some feminine shoes.
sorry but, i’ve seen cuter. try again assholes.
stop flaunting.
oh bloody christ we get it already sunbeam beautiful moment in time.
get out of my face what are you a chocolatier, are you the candy man can from willy wonka and the chocolate fucking factory!? ok joke window closed now, promise.* (*promise not guaranteed)(hi stephy).
great scene, must go back to pick up dudes. if kamila would stop talking for one second it might have happened. nah kidding, i feel like she’s gonna be a great wing girl.
incredible mirror back there. massive.
stereotypical urban street shot. open the window and let some of the casual out. one guy in the market was all i didn’t know god still made angels (lame i know) and i said yeah well, HE DOES. granted he was likely drunk, crazy, and homeless. or quite possibly all of the above but still, his eyes were totally working fine.
i’m going to get a pair of cherry docs to piss off my brother. he had a pair. i had them in blue. i remember when he got them from rock ‘n tees in oakvegas, we got in the car and he told me to shut the fuck up or something and i was like oh you’re a tough guy now that you have docs. then we wrestled and squabbled til my dad screamed at us to cut it out. i wish i could go back in time as a body builder and pulverize my brother or at least have equal strength. one of my favourite stories is re-telling the time i punched him in the head a few victoria day weekends ago. he pretended it didn’t hurt. such a liar. my arm was sore for days. i so connected.
no i do not want to talk about it i didn’t get them. i forced myself to get brogues instead. couldn’t buy two pairs of shoes in one day. i know i would get more out of the wallabies but still. next week maybe. if i own one more pair of natural looking cozy cutesy man shoes a forest will come up and strangle me for ripping off their style.
gorgeous. so oliver twist’s fagin. i am cutting the finger tips off a pair of hobo gloves the second after i hit publish (no i’m not stop believing everything i tell you).
god those shoes are so dreamy. looks like i’m wearing legwarmers over some white shoes. i bought a pair in reverse black/white from aldo instead and pissed off the clerk at get outside for it, whatever they were cheaper AND i got ten per cent off for bein’ a smooth criminal (a teeny dirty spot on one shoe that will easily come off). we went back to get outside to say don’t bother holding the wallabies and kamila gave in to buying these shoes in white/tan. he gave her ten per cent off to spite me ahaha. we invited him to come have a drink at the central. the brogues i got are pointier and womanlier.
wish i had the nards to wear lady gaga shoes.
what’s it like at this place at the corner of queen and whatever that street the gap is on? pricey? good food? worth it? why do i feel like i would be annoyed by it?
i made my i think i would have to take up smoking again to wear these shoes joke. it got a pity laugh. then i acted it out in coversational format. oh do you smoke? only when i wear these. pity laughs hurt feelings don’t you know!
sat here tweeting insomnia quotes out of a can’t sleep journal while kamila tried on the store. i did pretty good, only bought a cardi off the sale rack. knew my package would arrive soon and today it did. clothing hiiiiiiigheeee.
all you can eat sushi, worst service ever. no tip! too annoyed to recount the story.
drinks at the ossington to drown out our depression from seeing up in the air.
one glass of charming with two heaping scoops of adorable COMING RIGHT UP!
i can’t BRELIEVE IT! breanna hi! i have a penchant for sailors. thank you for obliging.
our burgs are so good. almost as good as webers, which is HUGE.
my parents (roommates) showed up friday nite for the shit show what was droppin’ knowledge. so many youngers were floating around by the end of the eve i decided to start carding some of them (they got carded at the door anyway, just felt like being a little shitty, just a little). the power surge you get from that makes you feel ten billion years old and ubes cunty but oh well. the fear in the eyes is so worth it.
costume change, getting sweaty up there.
lady.
tramp.
french club fan. every friday nite if you’re a francophile you need to drop in and talk in your own tongue. duder in the middle is a big fan of mine. sans blog. i busted him on it too not like it’s not obvious. should i hit it? (kidding!)(MAYBE!???) lack of sleep is making me squirly and i’m trying to hammer this out asap to make it not too late to the game.
why do i dress so coyote ugly meets rock of love? T.I.P.S.
this chick: SO AWESOME. so snarky. call me agny-something (ridic eastern euro name). i think i’m winning the phone numbers contest. i think we should include doling yours out too. if it was biz cards contest i’ve already knocked that one out of the fucking park.
this regular, chris, agny was givin’ it to him hard. he’s another barfly fan. though he never drinks. i made him tip. you gotta pat to stay hombre. pretend it’s a titty bar.
closing time feast.
why am i making a getting blown face? mel’s makeup was so ON.
where did you hang my necklace?
me and tiny. haw haw irony so clever, clem threw that one out, not i. i’d much prefer to call him micro or molecule. guy can put away beer. we require his services for scary hip hop nite. some regulars were like this is the first time i have ever had to wait in line to get in to the central. such a party. we upped the price of pbr cos these young skeeves don’t tip. it was great informing them of why the price hike was in-effect and THEN you’d think you’d get a tip out of their shame. nope.
takes us awhile to unwind from the adrenaline work slaughter.
ma, pa, think i’ve found the one.
i think i identify most with the praying mantis. not the fucks then kills aspect per se, more so the lanky limbs and all that, and i think my face looks like a praying mantis’s? ok maybe the kill what i fuck/fuck what i kill aspect too afterall. in theory.
i love that everyone dances and cuts loose. best working environment.
teppei was like can you ask jeremy to pick me up for me and take a picture i am too shy to ask him. oh of course guy! i need to write a guide to demanding photos with people.
don’t know the story behind the flowers but i think we need to have some around more often. i plan to go to ed’s and get as many stupid magnets and things to decorate the kitchen door of. if you have any sweet ecclectic shit send it on by thanks.
lucas was on a tear.
kamila and i wore matching AA dresses last nite. we’re going on a girl shopping date tomorrow to buy more matching duds. pumped!
lucas’ record label is having a huge jam this coming friday you need to go. melodie is bartending. i’ll try to cut out early to make it i haven’t been out on a friday/saturday since i started working. not complaining, just saying. FRIDAY MARCH 5 – 8 WATERLOO TERRACE king street area some kind of loft? going to be catered and all, v swank. v hip. hop. HA hip hop joke ugh die.
i’m beginning to suspect that maybe clem has a napoleon complex. or he wishes he was coyote ugly. can’t believe there are two coyote ugly references in one post.
wish my flash could properly show the actual colour of my hair. i thought my camera bit the dust last nite, i dropped it while it was open/on when michelle came in with a bus bin full of snow and a full on indoor snowball fight broke out so fucking hilarious. clem fixed my lense so we’re all good though i was secretly hoping it wouldn’t be salvageable i am so over that thing.
time for some guns and roses? no problem.
somewhere in oshawa hearts are breaking right about now.
i feel suffocated looking at this one.
r’ok time to get out of the house. today’s menu: get a new hair trimmer before a race war breaks out in my pants. get my shit together to go get a tan. get to the central for the game CANADA CANADA CANADUGHHHHHHHHHHH!
note to self upcoming topics to forget to write about:
-how irritating it is to be pestered by social media brats about how uninterested i am in social media meanwhile no one fucking invites me to these alleged dying all over themselves amaaazing parties.
it’s me, again, sofia. i don’t mean to bug you. i know that you likely get many e-mails from people looking for excuses to e-mail you, but even though admittedly it’s partially that, it’s a connection i’ve been feeling with your posts lately. and yeah, i know you probably get that misidentification too. people who are nothing like you claiming to connect with you, and being repulsed by that connection. (speculating, borderline presumptive.)
i used to write a really frank blog that had a large audience, but nowhere near being written up in the paper levels of notoriety. and that armchair psycho-analyzing was common. annoying, a dime a dozen. you’ve covered this. it was funny how common it is that people assume that everything you present is access to the inner you. i think when my blog had zero audience, that might have been partially true, but that is painful when you have shit-for-brains commenters spitting on your heart every day, or phonies who think they identify with you (me!).
people take your public vulnerability for granted. they’re invited to make judgments because of the format. and everyone is shouting to be heard in the mess of voices that populate the cyberwebz. it’s sometimes hurtful, but mostly just annoying. this e-mail isn’t telling you anything new, just that you do have thousands of silent readers who connect with what you say and write, and on a sensical, meaningful level, one of them, me, up until recently-ish, i guess (reading since 2004 or 2003, whenever matt good started linking to you).
