see that red mark on pitt’s face? he caught a baseball with his cheek.
another genius move by pitt.
i got over it.
relax, it was only a thing for a minute.
we played go fish and it almost got violent, if you go fish and pick up the card you want, you do NOT get to go again right? once you go fish, your turn is over, correct? fil doesn’t think this is so.
temporarily tiefing fil‘s photo, but wtf is chad doing here? i pointed it out, I made the connection, ME! nice glasses.
ferris.
one thing from my raymi dream was that we(your friends) could never figure out how you were hanging your small paintings so high on the wall. then i somehow saw you rappelling down on ropes and hanging them. and then i was like ohhhhhhhhhhh. you may now to proceed to hahahahahaaaaaaahahahaha.
i told you it was nonsensical.
derfalcon: barf barf i love barf
me: oh thats nice
derfalcon: good afternoon
it is raining like hell here all day
me: crappy
derfalcon: yes
me: it is chillyish here
derfalcon: so sad
i don’t want summer to go away
i want summer to stay and play
is this a rock song
me: went so quick
its a vermont rock song
derfalcon: totally
AUTUMN BREEZE SPEAKS TO ME
me: i just spent the last 15 minutes googling pictures of bacon
and now they are uploaded to my flickr
derfalcon: dude I think I got dumped for the third time in like 5 weeks I rule
it smelled like bacon in here earlier
me: aw no way
why do u keep finding girls to dump you by
derfalcon: it’s really sweet, like I am the 3, 4 or ONE date dude to DUMP
whatev3r
these chicks are lame too wtf
me: how lame
im goin to blog this
so talk shit about them
derfalcon: i know like “you can’t dump me? you’re lame too!
You Lame-er-er
me: show me a picture
derfalcon: You’re
ehh
the last one we didn’t even get that far
me: oh
derfalcon: first date we met up, got naked it was kinda awkward and now she won’t call me back
me: you got used
derfalcon: but she had tattoos and put my hand down her shirt so i could check out her nipple rings in front of the whol garden at this bar so she was kinda fun
but short
me: short people are annoying
Sent at 2:46 PM on Tuesday
derfalcon’s new status message – boring 2:48 PM
me: i said short people are annoying
and selfish
derfalcon: hee
she was nice
Scorpio
me: ok well i cant help you if you start complimenting them
derfalcon: oh right sorry
fuckin bitch
I hate HER
meh
I am immune to emotional needs
me: bacon1
derfalcon: you have full consent to reproduce my rantings
man
that looks good
me: bacon2
why bother with the bread wtf
bacon eating contest
um thats a no brainer
derfalcon: nice what’s up dude
“I love bacon”
yeah we get it
me: are you making fun of me and bacon
i found all these bacon love sites too
like uh, loser much
meanwhile i am stealing all of their pictures
theyre all really mad about that new bacn term too like totally angry
my old buddy jen’s new site just went live, yay!
there’s a party tonite at the drake in its honour.
she does the city
you have infiltrated my unconscious mind
hi raymi,
another true story by yours truly:
today i woke up late, debated showering but decided against it. actually thought to myself, “if raymi can have no shower days, so can i.” i forgot that i used to do this a lot when ponytails were an option…and that there was a reason i stopped. anyhow…i had a shower late in the day yesterday so i figured i was safe and i went for it.
went to work.
came out of the subway at spadina just before 7, thought “i bet i’m going to see raymi today.” i even looked as i walked past the cow/pig/chicken place, half expecting to see you sitting in the window or something. then, two minutes later – i looked across the street and there you guys were! i saw fil’s camera bag first, then your sunglasses. i said a psychic hello to your backs and figured that was it.
then, at the corner of brunswick and bloor, you crossed the street and came right towards me. i almost said hi, but you guys passed me at that exact distance where i would have either had to chase you or shout to catch your attention, which is weird, and you were pretty focussed, and i was late to meet my friend, and i was also feeling shy and insecure thanks to my flat, stringy hair and shiny nose.
then i went and ate cake with my friend.
the end.
andrea
this one’s for the ladies.
so once the majority of my hangover went away i sat down with shari to fold some napkins, INCORRECTLY. i do one and she goes have you ever been a waitress before? yes, for 1 day haha. then we get in a fight over how to fold a napkin the right way, i don’t think you have had to been a waitress to know how to fold a napkin, it’s kinda common sense and there is more than one way to do it, and i was not going to let it go. i’m a pretty crafty and creative person, self-taught but also from years of watching my mom obsess over making presents look pretty and our home, watching martha stewart and reading bored housewife magazines my mom and her friends shared, basically i do not fold napkins the same way the queen’s head pub in oakville teaches its girls, but MY napkin folding skills are fucking awesome and i am even better at curling ribbon, so to fix the situation i said fine you fold these guys i’ll cut the ribbon you tie it i’ll curl it. oh not only am i shitty at folding napkins apparently, i do not know how to place the cutlery within a napkin either.
remember i am on my period and my hangover is slowly leaving my body i am in the hot sun everyone is freaking out about this birthday party that i won’t even be attending, and i am stressing over my nana and papa’s 50th anniversary party that nite, and i am in a napkin fight now.
all of these napkins were supposed to look exactly the same shari felt and some lady who normally does the napkins would SO notice if they weren’t, tarley said she wouldn’t. basically shari was getting grief from someone else who was stressing about this party and then was sharing it with me, sorry not my scene.
oh and to make a dig i said that she was knotting the ribbon too tight and it was making my curls look ugly and shari said ok sorry, my joke went right over her head dude relax it’s just napkins not a metaphor for failure!
that is my napkin story.
Hi Raymi,
This is the Daniel who asked you about your camera. It is arriving today, by the way. I am really excited about it.
The reason I’m writing to you is because I just read the Kerouac article that ended up in LAist. I wanted to say that I had a startlingly similar experience with Kerouac, and I had never heard of anyone having a similar encounter.
Your “in” with Kerouac was the fact of being a relative; my “in” was the fact that he and I share a birthday. That’s right–March 12, 1922 / March 12, 1987 (that’s me).
I read On the Road when I was fifteen, basically gobbling it all up during one of the few summers at home when I actually went to the beach. I had sunburns I could associate with the reading of that book.
Anyway, it ate my mind. I was at the age when–and it took me a while to acknowledge that this is not a unique phenomenon–I really badly needed to be someone and being myself wasn’t good enough. So I became Jack Kerouac. Unlike you, I did in fact “argue with a beret on my head over Burroughs and all that shit.” The scary thing is that so many people bought it. I spent almost two years that way, spouting faux-poetical manufactured phrases at every turn etc., until a girl I didn’t deserve to be with smacked me out of it.
Most of all, I want to commend you for being able to pick up on the Kerouac stylistic experiment without sacrificing any of your personal integrity. I’m surprised that I didn’t pick up on the similarities between what you and he worked on. I should also say that it actually took me a while to figure out what you were doing with your blog. After I started exploring the blogosphere a bit, I realized that your blog wasn’t just another instance of a particular type; no–in fact, everyone else was imitating you.
So, enough of the ass-kissing. Keep on doing what you’re doing, because you do it well.
Cheers,
Daniel
