i watched meet the robinsons with christie after we had dinner at the green room even though i’m technically not supposed to eat there anymore, fil went to the leafs game with pitt and i forbode him to go for a post-game drink at the loose moose, it’s this close to a hooters by now, the slutty inch-thick-makeup-cake-faced waitresses audaciously flirt with all the men who drink there in front of me, even fil, especially fil, i can only imagine what it is like when i am not there shooting daggers at their fucking heads.
i fucking hate that, don’t make me pretend what’s happening right in front of me isn’t happening right in front of me so that some jerkoff in the back won’t spit in my friend’s onion rings and don’t sit at our table either unless you want a scene, cos i’ll make one, you work in a sports bar, you aren’t in a besuty pageant, stop smiling at me.
it’s best to not go there at all.
am i right.
i’m right.
until there are bar equivalents to that for chicks you’re going elsewhere, which is what they did, they went to lonestar and it was dead.
ps. who the fuck spilled an entire beer all over my coat, it was all down inside my sleeve and collar and i had to walk home carrying three booze bottles in the cold wearing a wet jacket and now i am going to drink everyone’s left over sauce because someone in my circle of friends is a secret dick and i don’t mean private eye.
pps. wendi don’t invite strange guys from the hallway into our hotel party when i am lying on the bed stuffing four slices of the most untasty pizza ever into my mouth – one guy was way creepy and i’m glad i gave my fucking business card to his buddy too, and even as i was doing it i was thinking in my head i should not be doing this, it’s all wendi’s fault she got them to circle me and then said THIS GIRL IS THEE BEST BLOGGER IN THE WORLD (maybe she said universe) pointed at me a bunch so then i crossed my arms over my chest, nodded and said IT’S TRUE! ahhahahaha.
i should make a separate blog just for writing down everytime this scenario happens when wendi is introducing me to someone, how much she fluffs me up to them and then fucking leaves so i am forced to talk about myself to a total stranger like i am a used car salesman as well as the used car and i can see on their face how their brain is 100% rejecting all the bullshit coming out of my mouth. thanks wendi. usually now i just say oh yeah i have a blog bye or talk about myself in a self-depricating fashion that comes across real facetious-like cos i am a socially awkward buffoon. then a month later i meet them again and they are like hey i thought you were a total flake or something equally rude and then cap it off with but i was wrong you’re awesome turns out you’re famous blah bla h blah. i would like to return the what i initially thought of them favour too, but i am not a piece of shit like that. hi guys!
ppps. i was so mad about my jacket i decided to do a theatrical performance of rage for fil by throwing it onto the floor and gruffing?/growling like a grizzly bear and stalking in a circle three times before i put it on.
Raymi Art Show Tour
I had this weird dream, nothing of real importance happened.
Your art show had become like this three day tour. The first day was here in hamilton, at the convention centre down town. It was like this brunch thing, which I thought was pretty awesome. So me and my cousin Tiffany are waiting to sit down when you and your friends come out and sit at the table at the head of the room, but they have all the chairs so you cross you arms and tap your foot and look really pissed off. So my cousin stands up and we carry her chair over to you so you can sit down and eat your meal.
there are some pictures from last nite on my flickr (once you scroll through the waterworld ones) i am tired of doing all the work for you go there and look at them.
i just spent like 4 hours lying in bed watching the postman, and now i feel better about my life. watching a movie stretched out to be four hours long for commercial break purposes on new years day makes you feel like yeah i could be a mail carrier in a post-apocalyptic world, totally, i could even be that chick kevin costner knocks up, and as i lay there with crap on my teeth, coffeebreath and pasta peameal bacon breakfast/lunch fil creation medley in my belly i thought, fuck i have it lucky, why am i complaining when these people don’t even have microwaves and i even cried when the girl told kevin costner that he handed out hope like pieces of candy (that’s a good thing) (oh and i also cried when i flipped to the spice girls documentary thing and fil said why did you sigh and i said because and started crying cos i want to see the spice girls, turns out i can’t that ship has sailed).
where was i?
oh yeah i want to buy waterworld and if everything wasn’t closed today i would walk over to hmv with my 30 dollar gift certificate, buy it and then watch it tonite, i don’t care how many people enjoy railing against that film i think it is the most magnificent fucking piece of cinematographic (yes that’s a word i looked it up) (no i didn’t) masterpiece ever. period.
then i thought why do i like these movies so much this time of year, oh right that’s because i live in a part of the world where it is like antarctica several months out of the year and it is the only chance i get to experience crystal blue water and guys with gills on their feet.
anyway.
i like the postman only because it was on tv and tom petty is in it and i will think of more reasons later.
oh right, the postman is exactly like waterworld, except on land.
i am a genius.
‘in the mountains, there you feel free’
hay raymi
i wrote you an inflated email a while back about how much ur blog is stickin it to the blog-man, in the middle of rush finishing a paper on existentialism/post modern stuff, hence all the fluffy vocab. i still follow your blog though about a year later, its a good blog/good-blog. i like how you capture the feel of living in this epoch(?), the brown-grey hue of winter or the green-brown cake-type thing of summer in t.o. its like a real detailed painting?
blogging has been hard lately, i don’t think i have ever said that before other than after my nervous breakdown, and even then i didn’t say that, or maybe i did, all i could bring myself to blog was three sentences every two weeks or so. the last month (as christie stated on our hangover shopping spree) has been a drunken blur, if not for digital cameras and other person’s present i doubt i could remember any of it. next year i am taking a december hiatus and fucking off and fil gets zero presents. i’m pretty sure all the boozing and xmas partying on top of xmas partying is directly associated to my kidney pain. i can’t wait for the ultrasound techie to be like doo dee doo doo OHMYFUCKINGGOD THERE’S A FUCKING DINOSAUR WHERE YOUR KIDNEY USED TO BE!!
here is an example of how i blogged post-nervous breakdown. sad.
i feel like people are tired of me and my stupid stories so i made a point to just stop writing them down or remembering them altogether, i think it’s just a phase.
i’m just hyper-focused on my health right now and blogging every single thing some french stranger yelled at me on christmas eve seems inconsequential.
one good thing about funks is you come up with some good one-liner emo quotes, here’s one i’ve said over and over in my head since all this nausea pain began I’M NOT GOING TO LIVE VERY LONG AND YES I AM AFRAID TO DIE. now pretend you read that in rolling stone and it’s printed over a picture of me in a field holding flowers and a milk jug or something. see? gold i tell you.
and if you want to hang out tomorrow like a regular tuesday nite (for me/us, that’s a friday for you guys) email me mmmkay. not sure if it’s duane’s or tony’s hotel yet.
oh and i have zero resolutions so don’t ask, relying on the passage of time or a date to make changes in one’s life is stupid, how about just owning up to your shortcomings now, fat ass? oh once valentine’s day rolls around my life will be so much better. pfft. the only alteration to my lifestyle i foresee happening will be because of the results of a bloodtest i take for the pain i have recently been experiencing, not because a bunch of families from oshawa, mississauga and ajax will descend upon nathan phillips square to watch a fucking ball drop.
