fil rearranged the furniture so now i am facing the other side of the room, it’s bomb dude! now when we bang on the couch the building across the way’s view of our performance will be totally better. here look it’s me about to shove an onion ring in my face, probably the same one i later barfed up in my mouth and the last one i will eat for a loooooooong time.
wicked, a dirty chick thinks we are losers. why would you instantly assume over a snippet of conversation that we’re beach snobs, fuck you idiot, i love that beach.
whenever i get interviewed about this piece of shit blog, i’m always asked how or why i started blogging and i always credit this guy…
the first time i met pierre the dog. i was also blasted.
had to return that green bell. no bells exist for road bikes like fils’, he is still bellless. maybe if i tell his mom she will force him to get one. apparently they are insanely expensive to have custom-made/fitted.
i’ve strayed too far from the original point of this journal and have allowed all your sensitive-susan’s opinions shit up my vision. you know what i mean? i’m not a giant asshole who walks around screaming at people, i merely share stories on my blog about stupid assholes who get my goat cos i find it entertaining, as do many others. i go out in the world and shit either happens to me or around my immediate vicinity and then i friggin’ blog about it, simple. if you live in a city and frequently go out, the probability of some jerkoff lipping at you for no good reason is pretty high (and i don’t even write about every little thing that occurs) but you wouldn’t know that would you from behind your safe little computer desk in suburbia, so stick to your martha stewart crafts webring in the future maybe?
we went to the arms to kill time during that ridiculous downpour, all of which funneled itself onto my fucking soul from just dashing car to bar, steph choked and lingered way too long under the awning where all the tropical buckets of rain were sloshing the most she’s like WHAT DO I DO i’m like OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!
kinda hard tunes to groove to and sometimes the shy just takes over.
oh god i’m turning into one of those “you keep me young” chicks GROAN brutal!
oh and thanks everyone for the push-up bra quips THEY’RE NOT PUSH-UP BRAS just reg. bras with like a mile thick layer of foam. i’m not as flat as i look, the way my jublies party is like a wonky-eyed dude with both pupils pointing in opposite directions but when you stuff ‘em in a bra, up they go all that stretched-out overlooked area and BAM! i’m stacked.
There was probably a time when I reloaded Raymi’s blog more than my own email, mostly because she actually updates that much (we could take a cue). This was a revelation– a time-killing mega-distraction on a pre-Mark Zuckerberg Internet. For some, it’s hard to pinpoint the appeal of her blog, outside of the blankfaced voyeurism it affords with little to no censorship. Its been referred to as everything from performance art to soft porn (and thus occasionally blocked on the computers of those with real-people jobs), and she gets written about by everyone from Eye Weekly to Drunken Stepfather. I dunno, we just like her. And other people must too because she has lots of those weird little Best Blog in Canada/the-Universe awards on her site, and more hits than we could dream of this side of becoming a Warren Kinsella hate forum. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt her rad factor that she’s related to Jack Kerouac.
fwah. there’s not a chance in hell a hipster would deem ME a hipster, all hipsters are islands of themselves, i wouldn’t even be on their radar. the point is, that article is a hack piece and didn’t unearth anything i didn’t already know four years ago.
i would also like to add that never in my life have i been cut off at a bar, i have been swinging from chandalier style trashed performing floor gymnastics and the like and not once have i been tapped on the shoulder. (we still don’t drink at this place we have held true to our blacklisting that shit scene also they fired the karaoke guy too so extra no reason to go there).
here’s some of fil‘s pics of me i ripped from facebook. dunno why he didn’t put these up on flickr as usual.
this was costume change three (technically four if your count the outfit i woke up wearing and wandered around in for a few during coffee then the second outfit for helping set up) then it got super cold and i needed a nap. after that i came out in jeans and stayed in that outfit for the rest of the nite.
sampling and displaying the goods.
shari’s dress was amazing. i have a really great picture of her in it. i’d wear it non-preggers in a heartbeat.
post-nap i may or may not be a tad crabby at this point in time. why does napping make you so pissed at everyone? something about people goin’ on with their own shit and you take it personally hello you all forgot about me thanks a lot selfish bastards. i got over it.
can you guess what i’m eating here?
bananananananananananA cream pie! i’ve had a craving for one for weeks i forgot how it came about but cravings just grow and grow until you do something about them.
accompanied by a post dinner libation – whiskey and caramel toffee yogurt ‘nuked for a minute. deliciously boozy. fil could drink a punch bowl sized amount in one go.
i don’t think my craving has been adequately satiated as this is just a cheap mccain frozen dealy. actually i more so crave a bostom cream pie now. custard mmm. i can tell i’m not drinking as much booze when i start craving sweets. speaking of, the baklava shari’s dad got this weekend completely blew me away.
family portrait.
i whipped up a tasty meal and it was ready by the time fil came home, stellar. filmed it too but the video is way boring so nevermind.
simple boiled little potatoes topped with a bit of butter, salt and pepper. reminds me of dinner at my grandparents (way british) and i hated potatoes, i was a finicky eater. i’d try and hide the potatoes underneath other stuff on my plate, spit them into my napkin and stuff it under the lip of my plate.
still kinda meh about them but i can appreciate their overall blandness and simplicity. not so much the carb factor though.
roasted red pepper, spinach, left over beef tenderloin, then fresh grated parm and caesar dressing from scratch.
i had not had the privilege nor pleasure of working with such a huge wheel of brie before. after that lindsey and i sliced prosciutto with alex’s deli slicer, well she did while i just squealed in anticipation and awe. and terror.
as is usual i have a shit ton of photos to deal with, each one is special, sentimental, reason why i can never (and refuse to) skim it down.
i was balls hung when i woke up friday morning i thought we might have to go up saturday instead that’s how bad i was. i started feeling better around 4, taking pictures of the blythe book in the car kept me distracted then i was finished and felt completely nauseous. it went away after a pepto pill thankfully. before that every time fil coughed it rattled me and i thought i was going to ralph.
i will get you all don’t worry!
i knew this compulsion was fucked up so i kept it secret for a year then i was over it. or limited it to in my mind, acknowledging every single passing object in secret.
at the slip.
whimsy.
i am in a metal hair band called HAIR and we sing songs about conditioner and wide tooth combs.
tarley and i wore matching outfits both days accidentally. until i changed out of my blue dress into outfit 3. and 4. and 5 6 7…
planning ahead.
i wanted to get pictures and video of them assembling the tent but it was up before i knew it.
DON’T FORGET THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME CAMPING STOP THE WORLD CALL THE PAPER.
so instead i ate a sandwich while rascal observed.
kaine busted that camera saturday nite at the rain dance tent party then took it apart to “fix” it.
smallest tent ever. there’s an air mattress folded in half in there, you can see it trying to explode out of the thing. i would choke on suffocating claustrophobia if i had to sleep in there.
guys are weird.
this whole yard turned into a gypsy shanty town by the next nite. pretty neat. i may or may not have overheard some carnal knowledge the second nite THROUGH MY GODDAMN EAR PLUGS.
setting up.
lovely lovely lovely. absolutely. eccentric and lovely, my favourite.
a new (to me) and most welcome addition. perfect for my competitive assholism.
wishing well.
i love cottage chic.
does this pot come in large? no? only small?
delicious pasta.
i am sentimental over these guys and i am happy they remain unlit.
HI FRIENDS REMEMBER ME OMG HII HII HI I’M BACK!!
clearly our tent.
thanks again valency (and your husband) the flight suits have been gettin’ some great mileage and their story has been told numerous upon numerous times over.
these dinks have been friends since their early teens. alex by the stove is the blushing groom and father-to-be. he is a phenomenal fanatical chef.
what a cute knocked-up mama shari makes.
it was awesome how clear these light pictures turned out. ugh.
that chicken was delicious.
i heard there was a party happening this weekend can i come?
these aren’t even close to being in order.
it blows my mind feeling something growing inside someone else’s stomach i cannot get over what it must feel like for the woman.
dinner.
nice christmas outfit fil. you shoulda got inside kaine’s tent that would have been a nice picture.
la lune and awesome clouds. we all agreed we wished we were on drugs.
buncha cousins and besties.
trying to time a jump.
crouching down to capture it you can’t tell at all.
gettin’ there.
what a tolerant woman. five stars.
by sunday we had two of those hats in our tent. fil looked like a cross between jamiroquai and r. kelly.
see? R. kelly. took me awhile to get that name out. i’m like, looks like a rapper that raped underage chicks. i forget the first guess and it likely wasn’t funny anyway. then of course no it wasn’t rape it was peeing on her. snore.
then chris came back dressed as a leprechaun.
kenny, he is in awe of you.
GET OUT OF MY FACE R KELLY!
i was talking mad shit (as usual) and totally winning til i excused myself to take a wizz. then it was all downhill from there. bocce tip: hold it in until the game is finished, that pressing tension in your bladder works in your favour and pissing afterward is your reward on top of winning.
and that was the best my hair was going to look all weekend long.
for once i wasn’t psychotically hung each morning. water water water and limited my drink drank drunks. this island is notorious for hangovers for everyone.
nick the prick on the right (also an old time friend of the boys). he told me i have an attitude problem (pot kettle black much!) i told him he had a correcting problem and he took it to heart, saying he got it from his dad and made a point to try not to do it as often. at one point everyone was arguing about sting and the police, he got on the mic and said I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE – STING IS AN ASS-HOLE. hilarious.
so midsummer’s night dreamy meets midnight in the garden of good and evil.
bedtime.
so tell me, every time i bent over friday nite this is what happened? thanks guys! those pants have gotten looser on me and i just washed/dried ‘em.
dicks.
just in case i wake up with an nauseating-induced anxiety attack in the middle of the nite. (didn’t)
phil’s loon call plus me REMINDING you this was my first time camping wow give me an award. why do i have to ruin every video by opening my stupid ass mouth? one thing i learned about camping/tenting is it kills your ankles crawling around in there sitting cross-legged and i also learned that i am a total princess and anal about getting leaves and twigs inside so you keep your feet and legs on the outside and remove your shoes ok bye i invented the great outdoors.
and now i will bathe for the first time since friday. my nose is totally lobster red and my hair, i don’t know if it is even brushable. i basically have dreadlocks, curls, and pockets of knots.
ps. leave a comment on this crap i put lots of work into it and i can see how many and who is on my blog at any given time, all you do is silently lurk then leave. RUDE. like right now there is 23 of you. before that 45, then 18, then 12, then 26 etc etc etc.
finally got around to giving some proper attention to the blythe book brosz7 gave me for my birthday and took pics of my favourite ones during the car ride up north friday. they were all styled by super fans and designers and auctioned off for charity then photographed by gina garan, the chick responsible for my blythe admiration whom also featured my tattoo on her site (scroll)(this weekend i was asked if my tattoo was a bratz doll and it was also referred to as a betty boop tattoo. ughhhh). very decent. here’s the best of the best, the rest you can check out in this set and here‘s a list of the designers along with their doll. basically this happens twice a year then they make a book of it. the attention to detail is ridiculous and the tiny couture outfits are likely worth more than a month’s salary.
I had to delete the other video i made (to make room on my camera) explaining my counting letters/words obsession. I’ll redo it another day, i know i’ve described it before and i figure it makes more sense when you just hear me say it even though the compulsion itself makes absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever which for the most part none of them do. from my own personal experience i’ve deduced that one invents or creates an obsessive compulsion out of boredom, usually due to the cause of under-stimulation or being under-challenged whathaveyou so typically it’s the brainiacs who have all these weird ticks usually (always) having to do with counting. a hell of a lot of them are a direct result of trauma or stress also. i know that it felt calming to count and it kept my brain occupied and it’s kind of a mental holiday (even though compulsions are obviously manifested in the brain) though for many (i’m sure by now you’ve heard of that show obsession) it is utter hell, they are prisoners to their obsessions, alienated and so on. my compulsions never got in the way of my day-to-day life. other than when i had a nervous breakdown. anyway, enjoy that stupid video which is dedicated to steph who is obsessed with obsessions. bye i’m completely exhausted and my hair is a total mess. first time camping OH MAH GAWD what a diva i did 6 costumes changes yesterday and never heard the end of it. hello, weather changes throughout the day plus over-packing plus booze equals the fuckin’ tickle trunk. (also packing for 3 days)
once the rain attack stopped the clouds disappeared and the heat and the sun oh man, having to leave blew anus. sigh.
woah i just clark griswolded the tent off the balcony (seriously how do you take those things apart in gailforce winds? that was ridiculous!) that shit’s all in a pile on the floor around me right now fil set it up to dry cos he packed it up while it was raining earlier today. poor fil shooting an outdoor show right now. feels like tornado weather with a sprinkling of hurricane.
watching big brother right now holy shit that blond chick is the dumbest ever. can’t tell time, if you told her it was a quarter to something she wouldn’t know what time that was. also doesn’t know how spider webs are made. why did jeremy piven just show up??? what a giant unfunny penis.
cid is totally hiding in the bathroom from the thunder and crackling lightnining and i’m sucking back a mimosa.
ps. to that troll who keeps email stalking/harrassing me, no i have not gained a ton of weight. things are actually quite skinny in these parts right about now thank you for caring and for motivating me to keep on the skeletor train. (without fail this loser emails me if i haven’t updated my blog within 24 hours. seriously. cool life guy. i’ll be MIA from the internet til sunday so you have til then to come up with another winner of an email)
this pile of gross leeches off uncle d’s women at events. gross gross gross. carly was a total cunt to him it was awesome. uncle d told him we were off limits. look at the pile of beers he bought us.
see him trying to hump dance on that chick? you humour these dudes for too long then they just push the creepy desperate through the roof. hey guy ever tried being normal?
heavy metal trash shimmy.
just a reg nite on the town with carlie. my agent. pure class. she is 15 years old.
can i take a picture of your shirt? yes. it’s uncle jessie you know from full house. i know. that’s why i want to take a picture of it.
this one’s called butterfly lunge.
all the shots you do to get up pole courage work against you once you’re up there. i am happy to still be alive.
what’s up Uncle D! i’m certain my brother and father will be very proud.
so so hung. i’m catching up on all missed big brother episodes cos i’m as demented as every person on that shit right about now. thank you.
when my brain starts working again i’ll read this. or you can for me and summarize it with bullet points in my comments.
fully missed the entire burlesque act last nite. whoops. got super involved in the paris hilton BFF saga. we actually almost cried. WINNERS.
that’s it i’m getting a pink cardi.
ps. what the hell do i wear to this wedding reception tomorrow – it’s outdoors, tented, casual. my kaftan hasn’t arrived in the mail yet and i’m too brained to shop right now i was planning on wearing it over a bikini, but it might be too cold for that anyway. i can’t pack fifty things cos there’s limited space on the boat. also my first time camping. fil bought us an air mattress.
UPDATE: THANKS FOR ALL ZERO OF YOUR OUTFIT SUGGESTIONS ASSHOLES.
apparently i’ve been tanning in mexico all week long and i’m looking more and more like my mother. fil pointed that out too and i was secretly thinking it anyway. she doesn’t pose like this. maybe it’s cos i look mature? elegant, yet trashy? tanned cougy? here it is bigger for your scrutiny.
next party i throw will be cougar-themed. no exceptions. girls coug, boys coug OR dress like young dudes hahaha basball hats, over-sized jeans and everyone smokes ganj and dances to top 30.
and i’m 20 again nice! i won’t fuck it up this time, promise! (promise not guaranteed).
i’ve been on a shirt destroying altering blitz. trying to stave off a shopping spree. i know i’m gonna buy something either today or tomorrow (need a new shirt for saturday’s wedding reception party). anyway this thing had another layer of shirt beneath the mesh and i cut it all off and kinda hacked at the bottom to shorten it more. why didn’t i do this months ago? ps. that black mark on the tub is from a glass shelf that fell off from above the toilet (and nothing was on it, there’s also one left above the toilet, totally stable) and busted into a hundred pieces when we first moved in. it was tempered glass and super heavy. we went out to brunch and came back to it shattered, it obviously hit the tub first and chipped it. i hate that it ghettos every photo i take in the mirror so i usually try to hide it wow look at that what an interesting insider fact you just learned! how enriching.
that’s a box of canvas frames on the floor. we need more space. didn’t wash my hair yesterday i try to go as long as possible after a dye. today is definitely the day.
we went to shoot chickenfoot at the sound academy last nite. sammy hagar’s new band. also chili peppers drummer chad is in it. guy seriously had an eye crush on me in the photo pit. too bad i can’t share fil’s and my hilarious conversation before we left. oh fuck it. basically i’m like who is van halen, i mean i know who they are but are they canadian? did they do that song? (insert ten ACDC songs) oh ok right here right now or whatever no not that one just right NOW right right with the words in the video yeah the song in the crystal pepsi ads. me + rock star privileges = total waste and extremely infuriating amusing.
vip area.
this photographer looks like a pothead we know haha. another photog stood on the tip of my shoe and didn’t know so i kinda shoved him in the small of his back, he turned around and saw me sitting there and well, i’d like to think probably went home humiliated out of the very being of his soul. nah, it wasn’t a big deal at all, just a detail for you my friends.
greeeeeeeeas-ay.
i text-bragged to my brother and he didn’t write back. he was probably too jealous to, yeah that’s it.
thanks tina <3 - fil and i were the only ones allowed back in the pit after the first 3 songs were over (typical rules for photographers) so i had to take pics and act involved even though i just wanted to jam out. the hatred from behind was certainly palpable. so basically i have 400 pictures and videos.
hey there. i pussed out on throwing my cards on stage. unprofessional. yeah like that has ever stopped me before.
cool story.
JD bottle guitar!
gross dude i busted pissing in the ladies. he was like 60 and totally blasted. i understand getting annihilated with friends but like, going out alone gettin’ concussed and being a total liability to yourself and others, why do guys do that? black outs maybe?
i love to purposely include security in the shot, their facial expressions are always the best. so annoyed.
still here hi.
serious dead will ferrell ringer.
sweet lookin’ gibson.
awesome.
i’m still winning. i planted the happy face mid-march.
why is facebook and twitter taking turns takin’ shit naps today? apparently it was hackers and FB can’t handle the traffic flood thanks to twitter being down.
