i am going on a during the day girl date with aimoo – she is very tall. she can fold me into a pretzel and throw me into the sun. i am going to ask her how i can learn how to be taller. ps. i fucking hate skanks who tell you their height and include that this is their height wearing heels. uh hello do you wear heels in the shower and when you are sleeping, heels that are attached to your fucking feet?
at the redparty i was wasted and confused so i didn’t get a chance to chat with aimee unfortunately. we are going to eat sushi like it has never been eaten before and i will be hyper and manic and fuck around with my hair a lot.
last nite i tried to be all stealth whilst walking along the brick/cobblestone tier around the perimeter of the varsity theatre, i am wondering if i can sue them for having doors that open internally only, doors that go nowhere from the outside, doos that make you think oh ok this is the entrance. anyway at the point where i got to the archway overtop some concrete stairs going below to wherever the fuck fil encouraged me to go on and i said no i’m scared, he on sidewalk-foot continues on so i decide to end my scaling of the mountaineous varsity and make my way down to street level – ALACK! my foot slips on snow on the three foot last descent to the ground and my legs tangle up inside each other and i do a three sixty and come THIS CLOSE to falling down twenty conrete stairs on my face – i caught myself at the last second and my left shin is jammed between a railing and drags across the bricks and i yelp out, “YELP.” and fil is already many moons away and turns in slow motion to see his pathetic partner in the lamest pile of herself ever.
he had to half-support me into the varsity and not laugh. i wanted to laugh but i was in too much pain.
now i have the biggest fucking goose-egg puffy bruise on my shin.
oh and then we watched the pink panther and i laughed louder and harder than everyone else and fil was embarassed.
i’m sorry but people who think poetry slams are cool are fucking lame nerd losers. everytime i have been at victory cafe there is always nerdy shit going on upstairs, last nite it was poetry. this black lady was screaming that she has tiny hips and big lips and she is black power when i went to the bathroom. people were actually nodding their heads to this shit like they understand what it means to be a black woman in toronto, it was all very the real world 90’s style. last time it was a bunch of university kids playing tubas and violins and cellos – GAY!
i can’t decide which is worse, poetry readings, book readings or spoken word.
i was gonna go up there and read the menu in this pretentious long drawn out voice.
“STEAK…PEPPERCORN, SAUCE? GREEN BEANS, TABASCO, BUTTERED……MASHED POTATOES?”
so yes i will be 23 years old soon. march 31. there will be a party for me of sorts. who wants me to mail them a postcard? the first person to email me their address gets one. ok i have two to mail. no wait this isn’t fair to people who can’t read my blog until after work. whoever pays me the best compliment in these comments will get a postcard. the runner-up compliment gets one also. i will mail the postcard at the end of the day. you are also required to scan or take a foto of the postcard, the side i write on and put it on your blog or email it to me if you don’t have a blog. (if you don’t have a blog by now you are ugly).
this is what the postcard looks like:
ps. people who pronounce mature like ma-tour and not ma-chur are animals!
oh yeah are you allowed to mail nudity? if not i will x out my nipples.
noel wants to wage an internet flame war with me. pffft.
last nite samir pointed out that i enjoy quoting myself. NOT TRUE! i mean TRUE THAT GUY!
later on in brendan’s kitchen samir drunk-yelled at me and i drunk-cried – it was over 9/11 and him being egyptian and being related to terrorists ha. brendan had a good idea to drink a bottle of this “amazing” 7 dollar bottle of wine. dude all wine tastes the same to me. we ate all his pistachios and i poured an entire bulk food bag of sunflower seeds (de-shelled) into my mouth and most of them scattered all over the floor. then geniusface makes me a vodka redbull. we argued more in the street while samir was trying to usher me into a cab like the condescending douche he is – look at me getting mad all over again.
i’m suppose to email brendan and apologize why should i samir was the one YELLING IN THE STAIRWAY AT A GIRL WHO WAS CRYING COS SHE HAS MENTAL PROBLEMS COS OF SEPTEMBER ELEVENTH AT TWO IN THE MORNING!
oh yeah after getting off the fone with jakalope i screamed like a maniac in brendan’s face and samir’s ear MWAHAHA THAT’S AMAZING THE FUNNY THING IS MY COOLNESS METER JUST ROSE IN SPEAKING TO HER! I MEAN HER FEELINGS ARE HURT…MY STREET CRED GOES UP!
brendan called jakalope last nite so i could apologize for the post i had written about her music video sucking and i think i also said that she talk-singed her stupid goth poetry, pretty funny i think and brendan agreed. she sounds like a 4 year old on the fone. i told her i was all about making fun of shit and she said well maybe you shouldn’t i dunno i said no no for entertainment purposes i wanted her to know that i wasn’t dissing her as an artist i was dissing the shitty music video which as it turns out brendan filmed or worked on i dunno. anyway i said to her i would make a public retraction on my blog about my post. i still think that video is gay but it’s not marketed to me so i understand, she’s cute she sings at things in jars and on the stairs, i’m sorry katie/jakalope.
stupid brendan showing my post to the actual artist i am making fun of NICE GOING BLOWHARD! i can’t remember if i asked her if she reads my blog, ha ha.
now i feel like a mean tabloid. wait what? good!
yeah she pretty much hates all things raymi, she wants to start an i hate raymi site. do it!
