i’ve been nagging jamie to help design a new card for awhile now, getting pretty desperate in fact i’m down to maybe ten cards left of the first design. all i had in mind was antique/vintage valentines for a theme and there it is. LOVE IT. thanks jamie!

this back house was used for storing dynamite. it has a concrete roof. like a bunker. there you learned something.

a girl at this coffee shop said she liked my shirt. compliments when you’re hung out of your life are the best.

for the price of our place in toronto (which we do not own) we could buy this building. get a tenant to pay our mortgage and i could run a fanciful store on the main floor and blog about all my eccentric customers. we want to be home owners so bad. i restrain myself from buying knick knacks and cool shit from yard sales and antique shops. no point until you have a place to permanently display all that crap.

this epic beauty belongs to the owner of the most successful strip club in london.

sean said it reminds him of the disney haunted mansion.

easy now.

territorial mother.

collective sigh.

the nite previous i almost went down that thing. so glad i didn’t, check what my ass’d have gone through at the bottom. pleasant.

traveling office. thankfully we did not end up camping. floor mattress it was and pretty comfortable sleeping actually. just before i woke up around 9 i was dreaming about kathleen eating crab legs tempura, like super long spindly deep friend motherfuckers. it wrenched me out of sleep and i almost spewed. luckily i was able to go back to sleep til about noon when birdman showed up to say bye.

i get to buy new flats as the right one has cow patty all over the side.

fil always has to dial his old house in mississauga from this phone which isn’t plugged in. normal.

came upon two enterprising adorable girls so we bought a cup each. i had iced tea, the boys had blueberry watermelon juice. combined we gave them 3.50 this reminds me of a joke i made the nite before, i called someone an entrepreneur but i forget why, though i am certain it was hilarious whatever it was.

tried to capture this last time we visited but it was nite and my flash kept bunging it up. got it this time. happy.

the healthy breakfast i am surprised i was able to get down considering the circumstances. i walked into town by myself in search of a pharmacy (hangover supplies) both were closed but in-walking i was sorted out just fine, and the coffee did wonders. i met the guys to have breakfast after that while they had milkshakes, after both consuming greasy spoon of their own. fil poured a cup of coffee into his. we used to put vanilla ice cream in our espressos i feel like i am talking too much about nothing right now.

hilarious to me as this is placed on a teeny field beside a river with a ten foot waterfall drop. why would anyone want to drive their camaro on that?

maybe i was a flower in a past life. just kidding i don’t believe in reincarnation. just kidding, i was a microphone.

this is where we watched the fireworks from the nite before, it was pretty windy and our canoes drifted a lot from the current, i had no idea we were that close to the shelf. that’d have been hilarious and terrible if we went over. some of our boats were tied together too hahaha. loads of pictures and videos of all that later.

nice hair.

this wreath kills me. i have a wreath weakness. probably thanks to my mother.

i attempted to hang out in the backyard but was riddled with some mighty ADD.

fil and sean’s grandfather (or great grandfather?) ran the brunswick house and it sure as shit is nothing close to as distinguished as is depicted in this painting. i have photos of a billy club he kept behind the bar, it has a lead covered end, it’s at fil’s mom’s oh there goes the laundry bell bye.

feat. my firework reviews where i do not sound like a hosehead at all. wait’ll you see/hear the rest ugh.

we had to walk through the field to collect cousin sean‘s car from the nite before and the entire party of cows were slowly making their way from one field to the next then coming right at us, just ambling, until they saw us. sean declared we should make a wide berth detour around them i was thinking fuck that (in order to go around them it would require running through the wide open field, and running would set them off, no thanks) and beat it on over to the trees which in hindsight is what probably spooked them into charging full throttle (they’re skittish) about 60 of ‘em and they’re a good 1000lbs each give or take. fil found that experience to be exhilarating. yeah maybe after the fact cos we came out unscathed buuuut i dunno, a good ten or so took the other half of the grove route, encircling us. it was a very national geographic moment in time. plenty of bulls in the mix and mama cows and their young, probably more dangerous than a bull if you accidentally get between them. also, cows are curious creatures and it freaks you out pretty bad cos they stop and stare at you, fifty faces all in a row and then one sneezes unexpectedly, you (me) get spooked and scream then the herd flinches and the biggest one of the bunch comes the closest. very on edge. not to mention the live fences. it was scary because i felt helpless regardless of the tree, i almost fucking climbed it when i saw the other cows coming up behind us.

love this radio.

keep refreshing this post/page i’m adding more and more to it.

hey check out this house, bet some open minded people live here yeah?

casa de racisto comin’ right up. remember i had a chat with a skinhead once, here it is.

just a quick hello steppin’ in to show you what i’ve been up to over the last 24 hours. how’s your sunday, good? great.

i bid you adieu now from beautiful south western ontario.

found that stray glass of wine someone was looking for. stefan do you weigh yourself every time you wake up? (that’s when your weight is at its lowest, favourite time to hit the scale).

totes sobes.

ran out of glasses, people got creative. fil brought me a giant plastic measuring cup (more like plant watering trough or for flour, baking haha) of water at nite’s end. ridiculous.

nicely done. i smell geek.

carla is double-jointed.

my beer bottle bullshit trick has been usurped.

stefan’s basement (grotto) is a museum of a party from two months ago. like 50 empties on the table. funny.

proudly showing off his jay of jay and silent bob statue. (he also has a light saber haha).

jason mewes signed it i forget what it said and you can’t even make it out.

everyone kept going to 7-11 for smokes and funny shit.

stefan called me an angel last nite ha i know! right after we discussed how abrasive he initially found me to be (from all the pictures i was taking haha) one of his favourite stories to tell. a lot of people in fact greatly enjoy telling me their first raymi experience/impression stories. hey guess what guys, you sucked too! the overwhelming consensus is skinny raymi is way more fun than fat raymi to hang with. another cool chick named brea said i was intimidating but knew i was cool and loved my outfit (don’t forget to email me!)

team star wars.

mick hates his photo being taken. he ok’d this one. i do it right guys don’t worry.

hi karen. betty don’t forget our lunch date.

very jungly save for that utility pole.

kenny’s sister miriam (rules) and that testees guy. i went to the party with a wicked high bun cos i went tanning, was greasy, and the bbq was a last minute deal (great success it was too).

nice one kenny. pfft.

this was funny to me at the time.

this should be your dating profile pic. LOVER OF DOGS AND COGNAC.

ben had much to say about dogs. it got a little heated. i secretly recorded some of it too.

bodhi cashed out.

immediately following telling him to get over himself.

thumbs-uppereenie. fil said he knew i’d like it.

brendan haunts my flickr, not my blog. he enjoys the out of context photos. never comments. lurker4lyfe.

pierre aka mr. peeps – biggest snob there. wicked dude all the same.

artistic finch.

cutie sharpie.

i told audrey i thought i loved pierre but obviously i didn’t know what love was until i met dora. there is no way she’s givin’ that dog back to her mom. no way not possible.

that’s some clean hanging plant you got there. i’ve seen plenty grey gardenesque shit but not here.

yesterday’s tan was amazing. i had a milk banana strawberry shake from that new place beside the bloor cinema (try it, they’re independent, no jugo juice shit in the ‘nex no thank you) and it was great, returned a canvas that wouldn’t fit any of my frames (spaced on the measurements i suppose) tanned, hit shoppers, got home right as sharpie texted about the bbq and off we went. i give last nite 5 stars. cos at least five stars were at the party, me included. (oh shut up).

kenny put his shirt on backwards, at first i thought it was some kind of hipster haute couture look. nope, just an idiot.

you can sorta make it out of the blurry, the dog is rockin’ a pink rocket.

got it right earlier in the nite.

oh i remember you.

pre-vader.

ankle socks dude. let me be your personal stylist for hire. srsly. (anyone else needing help lemme know).

this morning err afternoon i woke up cos i was dreaming about a unicorn i had as a kid that was purple, pink, blue, silver with pink hair and i was wondering if it was at my dad’s still cos if it is i want to bring it here, shampoo/condition its hair and display it with my blythe doll and that other weird one. short of that i need to buy a unicorn that looks exactly like it. extremely important. alicia would understand. then i also realized that my first born better be a girl or my son better be gay.

BYE we’re goin’ camping for my first time ever. i don’t think tenting on the balcony or inside a cottage counts as roughing it. i doubt there’ll be wifi. sad face. BUT there’ll be fireworks. HAPPY FACE.

it’s been awhile since we’ve had a good old fashioned raymi rant in these parts so here i go. this one is entitled HOW I FEEL ABOUT TAKEN MEN GOING TO STRIP CLUBS. yes, nothing bad can come of this ha.

so it’s been on my mind since we watched the hangover (if you haven’t seen it i’m not really going to give any spoilers away, i mean, they go to vegas so one can only assume strippers are involved) and great film can’t wait to see it again. i actually started formulating this when the trailer first hit, more like a don’t even CONSIDER a vegas boys weekend ever guy to fil (oh boohoo poor fil here’s a preemptive fuck you to all the guys just in case) and that was it. then we watched the movie and afterward i said you know, here’s my two cents, firstly, strip clubs are not a right of passage before marriage. i do not get why they are synonymous with bachelor parties aside from the pervert drunk louse friends (every guy has one of those friends and we have our eye on you buster) who want a gander at the expense of their buddy’s life “about to be over” therefore he NEEDS to have the ass of another woman in his face one last time before the fun stops. sorry i don’t plan on being miserable for the rest of my life either but this negative mindset placed onto women at the start of marriage is the dude’s fault, a stereotype that gains more and more clout over time until it becomes true.

here’s the thing, if you are going to get wasted and party with strippers then i am going to get wasted and strip for men. i’m going to perv out all over them. if you are going to celebrate with loose women then i will be loose with men.

how come it’s ok for men to go out with the boys to the club while women stay at home playing penis drinking games hoovering wine then some cheesy dude stripper who can’t even be considered human comes in bobbling his banana hammock and that’s somehow even? no offense to those bachelorette parties, i’m just trying to make a point here and that point is jealousy.

do i feel jealous visualizing my boyfriend staring up at naked chicks with perfect bodies? um i have a pulse, so, yes. women who allow their men to go out to strip clubs and appear as if they do not care about it are fucking liars. or worse, they actually no longer care about their men. that’s heartbreaking to me. you should feel flattered by my jealousy actually cos the moment i stop making a fuss that means i am OVER YOU. like one time i let a girlfriend of mine blow an ex bf right in front of me, i let that same chick do it to two different guys on separate occasions actually, and i could see in both the guy’s stupid faces how lucky they felt and happy and were completely elated WOW hit the fucking lottery here this must mean something. yes it does mean something and that being i’m beyond over you and this is how i’m letting you down easy with a beej from my whore friend. pretty generous if you ask me. (it’s a sneaky dirty trick you can bring up later on when the guy is sobbing and saying nasty desperate things you just passive aggressively remind him that he got blown by your friend in front of you so who’s the one who cares about whom now?)

here is an article i found on jezebel earlier this week that reminded me of all this, it’s their take on a piece written on that AskMen site 5 Lies All Women Tell written by Madeline Murphy and originally published two years ago then revived for some reason again (that’s rather telling) anyway read it all but specifically this part stood out for me:

2. “I don’t mind if you go to strip clubs with the boys.” This is a lie that women tell to make themselves seem “less pathetically needy.” This is another no-win situation for women. Either they are liars and hate their boyfriends for having a little harmless fun the boys (by objectifying naked strangers) or… well, if you aren’t needy and insecure, than I guess you are not a real women. Murphy instructs men to handle this situation by not going to strip clubs; “You’re probably better off just not going. Ask yourself: Are two hours of bare booty worth weeks, even months, of bitchy comments?”

Winner: Tie. Men are deprived of the privileged of spending a “boy’s night out” ogling naked women, but women are insecure harpies bent on securing their boyfriend’s unhappiness.

and here are my replies to this:

raymi
07/08/09
if men should be allowed to go hang with strippers then women should be allowed to hang with strange men and be slutty with them while doing it. fair is fair.

raymi
07/09/09
@chancentrate: it makes a point – if you are going to stray from me, then i am going to stray from you. how is that NOT like for like? the visual of that is what would get to him.

deep down, well not even all that deep down, i want to be a stripper, but i can’t because girls like me know you only become a stripper as a last resort and various other stigmas. plenty of women want to be strippers. how many annoying feminist-driven debates have you been privy to regarding stripping? ugh nevermind spare me (it’s empowering raaaaah own your sexuality zzzz don’t be an object BE a subject what?!) all the music videos we love to get hard to how close to simulated sex are they? how come super famous entertainers (actresses, singers) can do it and get away with it but one person in your circle finds out and you get nothing but shit for it? why are other women allowed to strip, and essentially we and anyone we know, aren’t?

i suppose it’s the narcissist in me that craves that sort of attention and there is no feminist justification (excuse) behind it at all, it is purely animal at base, simple. men want to look and women want to be that package they look at. i want MY man to look AT ME in that way and if he walks out the door to look at another woman in that way, i see that as a failure.

why has showing my nipples (pretty tame if you ask me) garnered so much flack that it’s not even worth it anymore? why has that put me in the only popular because shows nudity category? guess the types who peg me as that btw: OTHER WOMEN and geeky men who get 5 visitors to their blogs a day. not going to bother with the other women thing as there’s a wack load of tiresome reasons i can’t be bothered with right now. as for the geeky, sorry fine, ordinary man, who wants to jerk off to porn on the internet to a nameless faceless starlet, why does it incense you so much to find out a woman has a personality behind those nipples? you are irritating and your conclusions are lazy. F.

a little off topic there sorry.

i almost forgot one of the points of this entire thing ha – so in the hangover one of the guys (total doormat controlled by bitch wife) finally gives it to her regarding where he’d been that weekend (lied) and to make us champion him more this woman is painted in an all out totally unlikable fashion. as a woman it plays on your emotions and makes you identify with her a little bit to the point where you feel like a total psycho, if you have any issues with control, being in control or losing control, i dunno, it’s pretty hypocritical cos the guys go on a complete tear yet she is a monster. anyway, when he finally gets it out that they were in vegas with strippers she flips and asks WHY and he states BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT MEN DO. he might have said guys. no matter. back to my point, or questions rather, if that is what guys do, then as women, what do we get to do that’s of equal magnitude cos all i can think of is BE strippers and have our asses spanked by strange men. don’t like picturing that dudes? THEN DON’T GO TO THE FUCKING STRIP CLUB!

thoughts?

also, i know of a strip club (pure gold) in the burbs that will not allow women in unless they are accompanied by a male and the reason for this is because women kept storming the door causing scenes and embarrassing the (wealthy established) clientele, dragging their men out. that is absurd. what is this the fucking flintstones and pure gold, the lodge? how helpless, neglected, and alone those women must feel.

ps. happy face sticker is still up. when did i stick it there, i think around my birthday so late march.

check out these tights!

this is all kinds of brutal and i don’t care. enjoy. i’m vowing to make it a goal of mine to do some rigorous dancing-of-one as a daily routine and means of gaining back some flexibility, strength, and hot bod a la madonna’s. then i will book some dancefloor space then i will make fil capture it all on his 5d mark2 MEMORIZE THAT NAME STOP ASKING ME WHAT HE SHOOTS WITH I HAVE ANSWERED THIS MULTIPLE TIMES.

love sex magic from raymi lauren on Vimeo.

i tried all the on knees bits and it’s just impossible in this small space as well on wood, i need linoleum and knee pads. fuck it’s so hard to unlearn the jazz. ha ha.

i did a costume change and danced to a kylie song and then got excruciating cramps in the midst of it – hopefully those were due to all the ab work? feh. also fil came home and crashed immediately from his partio patio lunch with brosz7 and jayphil yeah thanks for ruining the nite, smart guys.

JULY’08 ARCHIVES PART DUH!

shooting in the annex!

hey guys lets get ripped on ganj and order pizzas!

perfectest stripper song evs!

kelly kapowski outfit plus fixin’ bikes.

another day another whatevdfgds.kghds;

i finally put that $50 De Serres gift card to use…oh and clearly i blew that audition. don’t go to auditions hung/manic. also being blond helps.

cos of that shooting i am trying to watch my p’s and q’s, but what i really wanted to say was YOU ARE A FUCKING LOSER or GOOD LUCK WITH THAT or rip his stupid fucking beard out. the end.

another pair of fil’s underwear bit the dust

my granpa’s memorial tree tree. i hope that dress isn’t too big on me now.

grocery time with raymi plus a surprise phonecall.

my first wii fit hoolahoop attempt.

title of this post is the girl you see when you dream of coffeehouses – emo quote i came up with at the age of 17 in rayne’s park london in an actual coffeehouse in between reading proac nation and drinking alone. ha ha.

live blog post from brosz7‘s place.

this is the part when i shared the story of fil and raymi to sass and how raymi used to love going to concerts during the courting phase of their relationship.

i thought you might like to know

news of the moment

sore as balls right now

never got one of these fliers for myself. sniff.

coffin pool party!

ps.

diamonds painting still available for sale.

there’s a ghost in me who wants to say i’m sorry doesn’t mean i’m sorry.

we also laid out some nic cage impressions, a bit rusty. pitt thinks he knows how to impersonate david bowie, so doesn’t. more like austin powers impersonating david bowie.

fil says i have to wear a bra now

check out this genius

this looks like the set-up for a terrible porno.

here i go, when i’m about to do something my hands freeze into claws.

woah ahead of the game now AUGUST 2007 ARCHIVES.

then we rode these horse dogs to the lcbo.