Everyone knows I love Shia LaBeouf, Shia La french word for egg. I also really enjoy the word Beouf. See, we make jokes and kid around that is how advanced our one-sided love is at this point.
And I also love Sia too, so much so that I made a weirdo platinum blond hair video to Sia before Sia did, maybe she even copied me who knows God I miss those shorts left them in a cab on Pride a couple years ago haha giver!
People are into these drawings and I am into people so lets do it. In the ever continuing life long pursuit of trying to show that I’m not all about selfies, I give you my craptastic and beloved cartoons. Allow me to illustrate how I illustrate if you will. If you wanna check out the rest from the past go to my drawing bad blog. or go to hell. Either way I do not care.
Drawing is tough. It’s not instantaneous. In the time it took me to draw these I did fifty thousand other things and got side-tracked a billion times. I’m going to draw some kind of rainbow next. Don’t even ask me why this is important it should be obvious. People are into these things or used to be and if I keep doing them I will dominate online again but only if I draw enough to capture the focus of like all of tumblr. Peace-a-cake fwahaa. Everyone knows that doing shit leads to doing other shit, boyyyoyoiiing! Afterwards I plan to fix my face, turn on my webcam and make some cinemagic. Gonna try and make webcam the new podcast. If you have a face for webcam then you should webcam it. Podcasts are great and all plus rising… my colleague just informed me of the unmarketing podcast rate sheet and I said do not show me I don’t want to pass out right now. Anyway, keep trying or keep dying.
whooops
Got kinda sidetracked some more by old pics of myself I came across urrrg attention span. When you want to just create everything all at once and have every platform, social network, phone, email etc at your fingertips it is mega hard somedays to avoid attention-span diversion.
I remember this carpet, it was a film fest night at casa loma very chi chi (shee shee?) and I showed up in this get-up and KILLED it with my orange hat. People were posing with me in their normie function attire. I also bumped into a ghost from the past and watched him look for me throughout the castle, thoroughly vindicated.
I remember when these shorts got me a lot of heat. I wore them a lot and then finally eventually it was okay for other women to wear short shorts and be no big deal about it. Women on women haterade is so gross. If someone works their ass off to look good in short shorts then by all means goddammit let them.
Here I am learning the power of narcissism and how to look fake pretty.
I just turned 19 and it was beginning to dawn on me that if I was going to exist in an online realm flame-warring with trolls and haters then I better armour myself with good looks so it’s one less thing they can pick me apart about. I didn’t realize how far this self-identity obsession would go. Now there’s things like “thinspo” blogs out there amongst other unhealthy things.
I really thought my hair when I was still living in Brooklyn made me look like The Shining kid. You’d think that was my favourite movie based on the two times recently I have spoken about it here but it’s not. Anyway I was 18 when I lived in Brooklyn and that didn’t work out because of 9/11. I moved there after I graduated from Highschool and I stayed until October, then lived in Canada for a little bit, then to Maine for a few months where I had a radio show called There’s something about Raymi. I was not expecting today to turn into memories but whatever. Take it or leave it, it’s winter and I have yoga to pretend to be doing anyway.
Speaking of the WTC you can see it behind me a month or two before it was attacked.
Erin Mills Town Centre on lunch break. My hair kept getting shorter.
My niece and I and my favourite man shoes.
Prom night. HAHAHA.
Edgy tongue piercing.
Me with a drawing of me by a friend plus my stupid tongue piercing.
After Maine I went back to my hardware store gig for a bit, dyed my hair darker, could finally get it into a ponytail and the horrid growing out phase was over. Except for those bangs. WHYYYYYY
This is one of the first pictures I ever blogged, it’s a scanned in film photo that’s how dedicated I was and how I got a following because no one was willing to take the time to do all this shit as digital cameras weren’t around yet. This pic is of me on the school grounds of St. Edward’s aka “Teddy’s” in Oxford, where I took advanced writing blah blah.
Brooklyn. I’m 18.
NYE a year before. That’s a Bruce Lee shirt. Pretty much all my photography endeavours were loaded with trying very hard to show how cool I was at all times. My friend barfed all over my city friend’s place this night/morning and I am wincing from trying this hangover elixir shake. Party on Wayne.
Nice Guess jeans. Thx Mom.
Going out this night in these legwarmers was nuclear in the attention they received. No one dared to hipster then. I would get approving nods from other hot/ter girls and could see them making mental notes to parody for later. #sinfluence
Been there, done that.
I was really proud of this modern fugly hairut. Teenagers are stupid. I went to England with super long blond hair. I guess I was finding myself or felt fat and ugly that day.
My KD Lang phase. You know you want to.
Another cool story smoking cigarettes fantastic.
This was a banner on my geocities page. Which was like my tumblr. I just should have put everything all on my blog back then.
Sauble beach whats upppp.
NYC the easter weekend I went before (still in high school) moving there to suss out my apt sitch.
My prom date. We were bros and both relieved to have a date as ultra did not care (I had a bf I was moving to nyc to be with) but my mom made me go and I am glad she did because I actually remember this life event and was awarded The most humorous person by the prom committee or student council I forget based solely on these two chicks in a businss class of mine sitting near me and hearing all the awful shit that came out of my mouth everyday. WIN.
Winter mixed black market fashions and Dido haircut.
That’s me in the orange wig and my old friend Laura. #stories #yo.
Hey remember DVDs??!
I pretty much looked like dog shit the last year of high school and super didn’t care/mentally checked out moving to NYC plus internet famous so screw all you guys hahaha.
Cliche patio photo Brooklyn.
The other BK that ruled our world. My first viralish experience was with this photo.
The first magazine I interned at.
New Hampshire, 18, old train.
Fatboy slim concert, Guvernment.
And me today. Sorry you had to sit through all that. Tomorrow we can go back to the present plus more of my Raymazing drawings.
Tom Green was at the party. Missed him cos after the mosh pit and beer all over me I had had enough. Then I destroyed some 7-11 nachos and cheese and taquitos WOOHOO! It’s hard not to drink when you have a free booze vip bracelet on.
Like all people on the internet with opinions they like to unleash on the world, I too have some “tips” on life improvements. Just let me get settled on this pedestal here before moving on.
That sentence just gave me a headache see what happens when I try sounding smart.
What I mean is, I just said some kind of opinion on Facebook and felt like eye-rolling myself but then also why denigrate my own advice? I have weighed in heartily on advice columns before, people send me their unsolicited Help Me Rhonda emails all the time because I deliver cut throat honesty, peppered with realness that often borders on mean in only that the truth hurts. When you hurt, you are allowed to be an expert on hurt.
Fuck it. Lets listen to hurt.
I have major cramps at the moment so this song is super pertinent.
Just because you don’t have kids doesn’t mean you can’t preach a little. You don’t have to pop one out to be enlightened. You can still take note of the egregious errors of others then go back to your own life. It sucks that there feels like a divide between parents and non-parents a wee bit. We watch each other’s lives on facebook and take note of the differences. Anyone who says they don’t judge is a liar. Now, not to judge but.. lol. Those who seem to chase the glam life and live like their world is fucking amazing every day, well I don’t know. If things bother me then I just limit how much I check it out so as to not lose my mind with jealousy but also, I’m fine with digging on my own life I suppose.
How about those ‘year in review’ videos passed around facebook. The way my year was stitched together I had to do a bunch of editing, removals and then jam some fun shit all at the end of the year to fill it in and it could only pool from a certain batch of pictures nearing the end of the year. I also limit what I blast on FB because I just do long story short, FB fail to which they even came forward admitting they screwed up.
I read a snarky comment or two saying how some people’s years looked like shit which made me rilly rilly angry. Some people have bad, less fortunate years. Are immersed in shit you don’t even know about so how dare you judge especially when every other self-important status update by you is more meaningless and attention-seeking than the last. How dare you shame others and then beg for sympathy over minor band-aid entitled non-problems. Yes FB fail indeed. Humanity fail indeed.
But, taken with a grain of salt because everyone feels a bit of misery at Christmas. Boredom. Loneliness. Bah humbuggery. That’s why they lash out at other’s lame years in review. Show photos of their swag that reek of emptiness. One-up.
OKAY bitch vibe over and out time to mall-rat it up.
Hiya fartosaurus rex! I’m on day 2 of no drinking again, which you’re not even really supposed to bother mentioning until day 4 because then wise asses with pictures of booze in their hands start popping up all over the place. Clem pretty much laughed in my face on day 6 when we played the central. So whatever. Are you supposed to only say something after a year of sobriety then casually point out hey its been a year? Who cares all I am saying is the power of this blog content is currently not fueled by breakfast in Russia. #vodka
It’s fueled by this now. Spiiicy.
And while I’m at it this is my favourite song right now. Must make concerted moves not to always and only talk about myself here. I want to do oldschool fluff blogging again. In theory. Like a top ten list of stupidity. Lists? People like them right? I also thought I might bring back the poll, so haters can show themselves. My first one will be: Do you like the band name Boylord? 1. yes 2. no 3. fuck you. I’m guessing 3 is going to be the reigning wiener of that one. See! Fun shit like that. #BLOGS!
Had a little reminder the other day why I don’t like drinking anymore. Yes because it is so fun feeling brain damaged all the time.
Speaking of Boylord, we are playing this epic little party on New Years Eve, I don’t know if you recall me mentioning it a million times before previously but in any case it’s a fact. Strombo hyped it. Buck 65 will be there. I am going to be dressed in something NEW & FANTASTIC. Here is the flyer! Dave Love is playing with us. #legendary
TEN YEARS. Guaranteed to see celebrities hipsters musicians cool people arty people too cool for school eccentrics the best of the best. I am also bartending. Come bring me presents and film my band we go on at 11 sharp and our setlist is adorable. I even tried on my wizard peacock caftan. Which I think I’m going to sell.
Gonna be good times.
Here we are rehearsing She’s not me with an effect.
and without.
Psyched to do this live. I’m going to do dance moves.
Lol.
Gonna hit the mall today and get something to wear.
Holy cheekbones. That’s what two weeks of not drinking will do to ya I guess. I ate a bag of candy last night. I’m going to cut my candy intake in half this time around.
Hair game on point. I’d say en pointe but we aren’t talking about ballet here, people. Speaking of on/en, there is a truck that is parked in my lot that has a “baby ON route” magnet stuck to it that enrages me. The baby ON your route is gonna be a dumb baby like you. It’s good to know there is a baby ON your route, dipshit! uGHHH.
Yesterday was one for the pretty party books lemme tell ya! Anyway, cold packs work nice cos your eyeballs are like burning lightbulbs and eventually get too hot, helps get the swelling down plus good for headaches and feeling trapped alone in fear beneath the eye shades to think about your stupid fucking hangover like a wittle baby. hahaha. My friend is messaging me about his gigantic hangover right now and it is amusing as all fuck to me. Thank god for the friends we maintain correspondences with. Actually I’m going to do more website writing for him. Three cheers for friend-client relationships hahah did copywork for him before and it blew him away. Anyway.
Was so fungry yesterday. Fungover. Had a gyro afterward these eggs charlotte were not enough to satisfy my funger games. Had a salad for dinner.
Caught up with Sarah cos she was around the corner and FINALLY got what happened with he the night Jian Ghomeshi drove her home from that Travis concert we brought her to. Long story short he creeped her out. I told her she should sell her story somehow, so if you actually want to know you can contact me. #shameless.
Had a bit of a chill so had a hot bath.
A table of Tinder boys.
I think I might look hot with a trillion nose earrings maybe.
Having a nice holiday? Great. Live life like each day is a holiday and you’ll barely notice the actual ones.
Sooooo, big shocker, I had wine on xmas. And a cognac with a Polish man too. I will start the clock again, probably will be harder this time and I 1000% blame Christmas. A Little Raymi was like aw I liked reading your daily boozefree updates it was like an Advent calendar. I think 14 days dry was a valiant effort this time of year. Do I want to be obliterated on NYE? Part of me really wants to or at least be reasonably ineebs. Or professional. We will see which Raymboat wins.
It’s Christmas! I have so much to be ungrateful for! Good t-shirt slogan for next year.
My bf asked if I was going to break up with him after winter. Hmm good idea. HAhaheheh. He said I look like someone who would do that. His family adored me. Said I was VERY FINE and think I am SUPER INTELLIGENT. BF was like woah they REALLY liked you. Must have been all my racist jokes. Ha. Also I have an Italian face they said. I could feel it being stared at so I froze it in beauty smile queen mode. I think cos of my hair all swooped over intentionally effortlessly.. but yeah I’ll take Italian profile any day.
So yeah, Christmas was different this year. It always seems to be. Sad that Papa’s not around. Christmas is always a little saddening. LOTS of depressives on Christmas.
We didn’t exchange gifts this year which is totally fine but also illustrates how empty the holiday can make you feel. So I gave myself little pep talks to get through it like my family is gifted in beauty and in health, I’d rather have that. Beauty can get you gifts and one day I will look forward to that. It’s good to be rich in hope and blah blergh blahhhhhhhhhh fart. Lol.
I treasure each time I see my Nana. Glad to have made time to decorate her tree at the beginning of December or whenever that was. Bf had a moustache then so on Christmas she thought he was a different guy. I was like no worries Nan there ALWAYS IS another guy fahaha.
The skinnier I am, prettier, and better behaved I am, the less Nana digs I receive. This year she was just disappointed in the Holiday Inn food quality which my mom repeated that no one cared or noticed. My mom and Nana are like the odd couple. I made my mom compliment Nana before we left. She said Nana is her rock. Oh god now I am crying thanks a lot you guys.
Cousin Libby came out it was so good to reminisce. A friend of mine on FB was like is she your sister in law or something? I said no, cousin, and he goes she was remembered as the hottest girl from senior public _______. haha go Libby. She had an admirer in that room that night too, an old geezer who put his jacket on very close to our table and just legit stared at her, so funny. My mom has lots of pics of us I’ll post whenever she gets around to sending.
I have two holiday inn stories from two separate occasions staying at this hotel before when I lived in Oakvegas. Will save for SIX MONTHS IN MANSIONS. Which will probably be the ‘Big Sur’ to my literary eventual releases.
This was the only buffet plate I made for myself as it was second xmas dinner for me. Hey the ocean called!
Shawn regifted a bottle of whiskey from work to Nana and I passed along a scarf that was very Nana and she adored it. Nana has whiskey with a tea if she has a sore throat or some other old lady remedy thing. Love her. Doreen was there too. Such a pretty lady.
I published this a few weeks back before my blog party then I chickened out but now I’m blocking out the haters for YOU so happy holidays from all us here at Raymi the Minx enterprises, y’all make this blog thing pretty fantastic. In any event, this juicy ass is from my date weight phase. I fear it is shrinking by the day so it’s important to make butt time capsules. I hope Nicki Minaj makes one of these. Or one of you Little Raymis does. Come on lets make a Raymeme.
Hey guys, didja take yer joke pills today hopefully jesus -uck am I ever in a crabby mood. PMessy nahmean. And I super want a drink. I am at the point like why am I doing this. This sucks. Is boring. And so on. Plus Christmas is basically here which means Drinkmas.
It’s Day 13 of no drinking and I want a dark and stormy right fckn meow.
But then I looked in the mirror and was like hubba hubba. Just jay-kaying guys. How will I ever become friends with Gwyneth Paltrow if I drink. Bet she never lets her hair down or allows herself to be out of control like ever. Stringent chicks are so fascinating. Speaking of typecast people, Gwyn is one of those skinny broads in loose-fitting black lingerie proudly on gawky display in several of her flicks and you can only do that when you’re a beanbole and to be a beanpole you have to be majorly uptight. We have to make do with the bodies God gave us and if you’re flat then to pass as sexy you have to be coatrack thin. Or that’s what the sickness beauty perception states.
Smiling makes you look younger too. Fortunately more than half my bloggy life was devoted to neve smiling so I don’t have massive crow’s feet and laugh lines. All my lines are on my orehead from fucking around with my eyebrows and applying mascara EVERY DAY I am 100% going to get botox one day and have a forehead like a balloon.
I had a gap in my teeth as a kid and then one day it just closed, maybe when I was about twenty, but because of the gap when I smiled (when I was forced to) I never smiled with my teeth showing I hated my Madonna gap. Now I know the power of my teeth and flashing ‘em but you have to be careful and not overdo it because you can look like a game show host which I have on many occassions. Smiling smiling smiling, inside dying.
If I wrote a book like how I write these blog posts I’d have no recollection of what my book was about because I have absolutely no attention span and whatever I cared about last week is like ancient history in internet time.
Made this.
Sorry if you’re grossed out. Or tempted.
Reminds me of Fubar 2.
So glam.
Yep I still dress like Peter Pan.
This was yesterday. God I miss running. it’s just too cold and too much hassle.
Pumped about getting so much laundry done yesterday.
Still eating candy like crazy I think is turning us into monsters.
Keeping food as interesting as poss.
I have every intention to run again soon though, this headwrap is part of the plan. Today woulda been good too it’s kinda mild.
