jamie‘s birthday jambalaya cake.

nana and papa

fil is trying to guess which magnet came from me.

my aunt’s new little dog, emma.

cutest underbite ever.

the necklace this italian girl made and gave to me in mexico, broke during thanksgiving dinner at fil’s mum’s.

i was tugging on it during a story about some loser who was telling fil’s stepdad at the bar how he gave ME my “ideas” and it pissed me off so much my necklace exploded, hundreds of beads everywhere. thanks a lot douchebag from the pub.

here’s the email i sent him:

dude, do you know how pathetic and untrue it is to be telling my parents-in-law that YOU gave ME my blog ideas!?
stop talking about me dude or i will embarrass you to all hell on my blog and which ideas did you give me that i carried out exactly?
cos all i can remember is you trying to sell me this venture capitalist bullshit that never fucking happened and was nothing but garbage and a guise to get me to hang with you at the bar while you ate a burger in front of me
and then you shit-disturbed with adan’s gf, way to be a winner
have fun partying at ****** for the rest of yer days and ps i have been blogging for 8 years now, way before i ever even knew you
bravo

+++

my nana’s collage. she had done all my cousin’s except for mine and i said hey where’s mine? then she finally made it, and it’s the biggest one, to compensate maybe? pretty funny.

i was married young.

GO JAZZ! if you can believe it i am supposed to be a bad boy from disney’s pinnochio, that was the theme that year, you know the ones that turn into donkeys? the blue unitard is from ballet, i was 4 maybe.

that’s my papa as santa.

look how slutty i was in grade 5.

blurry cos i was laughing too hard.

i’m psyched to be wearing my winter coat under my costume.

here’s some more catskills/woodstock photos as promised.

barfEliving.

they smell disgusting. good prank is to put them in someone’s suitcase.

this guy was wearing the same outfit the next day.

17.99 in america, 35.99 in canada.

this is what fried brains looks like.

yeah, we know.

hung!

i put some videos from nuit blanche up on my youtube.

in the island maze with jamie.

duck/swan hell.

this island cat rules.

jamie the pervert.

you can faintly see my tanline from the towel i lie on.

i had a mint julep because i saw earlier at the dakota they serve them for 7 bucks.

near the victory, everyone there is demented.

someone was having a little pj harvey party.

friday nite we made nachos with ground turkey while waiting for jamie and deb to get into town.

not into the playdoh paste, fil is.

too hungry to show the final product.

this is what an adorable trainwreck looks like.

and then there’s this classic.

updated version. all these fugly troll chicks were scowling at me the entire time, didn’t know what hit ‘em. you can hear me say oh stop frowning bitches you’re all sad. i am a nice person.

these losers thought they were american idol judges.

what the hell does 2*2*2* mean? i’m guessing something stupid, just a hunch.

this poseur over the mic says that she likes girls, interesting, for someone who claims to be a lesbian, you do an awful lot of female-hatin’ ps. if you and yer chums munch rug, singing salt n pepa’s whatta man (dancing along to it and mouthing all the words) is pretty suspect. i just deleted the video i made of it, it was such a terrible performance. when you are actually good or can entertain, then you have the right to sit and scowl.

you like girls cos you can’t get boyfriends. if you were a true-blue dyke, you would have been applauding my performances, instead, you sat there jealous and fat and lame yawn.

you’ve been RAYMI’D!

jamie’s pictures from today.

one of us was too hung to come out for a toronto walkies, so we took jamie to st. lawrence market to get jambalaya fixings then went to the island. i have decided i am never walking again, my left foot kills. we looked at the animals at the “far out farm” and when we got to the turkeys a mother joked to her daughter that that’s what they would be eating on monday, i already made the joke myself so whatever, then the girl says to her cousin how do they get the feathers off, and maybe because i had been drinking vodka pomegranate rockstar, or maybe because i am incredible, i decided to tell her how they get the feathers off:

WELL (this got her attention now she is looking up at me, mom was out of earshot anyway) FIRST THEY CHOP THEIR HEADS OFF then fil went LAUREN! in his scoldy voice so i wasn’t able to get to the then they run the bodies under scolding hot water and skin them part, whatever, she wanted to know right? if your mom is a bitch enough to make a that’s the animal we will be eating joke then what does it matter if i get graphic. this just in KIDS SUCK ANYWAY, YES YOURS TOO!

we went through the maze, it was all wet and puddly and muddy and we came out a mess and we fucked up and didn’t even go the whole way through it, we had to backtrack. fil waited on the bench by the entrance.

it smells like nice warm oniony cooking smells i like it, my hair is in pigtails but is all fuzzery from the moisture in the air, the game is on, jamie and deb will come over when they are ready.

re: foot pain i saw on fashion fanatic last nite that you can get injections in your toes and feet like what you get for your lips and forehead, it makes a padding at the tips of yer toes as cushioning so you can wear 4 inch heels, and it lasts for 9 months, $500 for each injection, dunno if that’s for each toe or each treatment. this world is bananas.

ps. fil just came over to brag about how he haggled for his meats at st. lawrence, he got the end pieces for 99 cents a kilo instead of the 2 dollar whatever price, he is turning into an old woman.

i bought that shirt in case i work at a home hardware again. it looks like i am posing but i’m not, that’s how i play the guitar because i am what rock and roll is, and you aren’t.

i am eccentric in case you forgot.

jamie blogged last nite’s events.

a kid i went to highschool with and was in some of my classes, hung himself a couple days ago, he was schizophrenic/bipolar. maybe he’s out of his misery now. sad. knew him since kindergarden, though i can’t put a face to him, i don’y have my yearbook cos i didn’t bother having my picture taken, or buying it. anyway. what do you say to something like that, oh i guess i’ll put up some pictures of my clothes now? life goes on, some of you little guys are young and depressed and lonely, talk to someone, don’t kill yourselves.

this PSA is brought to you by aunt raymi.

in other news, last nite was a gongshow.