We’re not suppose to romanticize or glamorize alcohol or drinking or drug stories during meetings when sharing but this aint no meeting so i’sa spin some yarns here so gather ’round sumn other okay just kidding I’ll type with real words, not in minxlish. I’ll try.

I’m watching the last man on earth right now and they’re drinking Scotch on a boat it brings to mind the kind of person who you drink Scotch with, someone you just know you’re being drug down to Hell with them for a Scotchy drunkies and there is no fightin’ it, with that there powerful spirit dawg you is in it. Scotch is like the K-hole of drunks. If you don’t know what a k-hole is it’s when you do Ketamine and you’re in a bubble and you cannot get out that’s why it’s called a hole. Not a good time. Mormons do it tho which is weird. They can’t have caffeine or alcohol but they do Ketamine “treatments”. Maybe that’s just the Mormon housewives show and not actual reality. A lot of my education sadly derives from reality television.

We did Scotch Fridays at the office. We even had a Scotch log and to be in Scotch Club you had to get a bottle on a Friday no one had got before and enter it in the Scotch spreadsheet log, that’s about it (we took turns but sometimes there would be two bottles to go around, deadly) then you get fucking gassed with your coworkers in the board room and if you’re the only woman like me then you are in charge of cheese and crackers for the piss tanks who turn into little toddlers, fuck, emails stop dead sharp at 4pm on Fridays — you have zero ability to write shit about fuck whilst on Scotch (I attempted to do our tweets, bad call lol) and then welp, lets call the plug and get his ass on over here ahh good times, good times, work hard play hard. Hangovers at an office are the worst days of your life. Shaking like a leaf, no sleep, you look rough and you don’t remember meetings you’ve had… sending emails out to coworkers about deliverables you’ve already heard word back on wtf.

I was never a Scotch person. Scotch people are made not born. You gotta brace yourself for the most disgusting shit you will ever taste and I’m not sorry either to admit that. I’m an alcoholic and I have tasted the shit rainbow of every kind of alcohol known to human, it’s all poison. You acquire an affinity for that you don’t get born craving it.

Peat? Smoke? Barley? …burning gasoline no different than moonshine make ya go blind? Yeah no that ain’t delicious. Have it with ice, that’s me. Some, a drop of water, some, just neat.

I like to twirl my glass around like some bastard in a sumptuous den wearing a cable knit chooch cardigan sweater fuck can you say dry drunk much? I guess after 197 days without booze you start to romanticize it a little bit.

On the train into the city Friday I sat beside the right chick it was perfect social harmony killing time til we got to Union station, she says, I smell alcohol and I said it isn’t me! This is the only time ever without a shadow of a doubt that it isn’t me she says oh youre an alcoholic oh good I love alcohol I laughed and said um I don’t think you know what you think that means but I said yes i love alcohol too, too much so I cant drink it anymore. I love a nice drink in a pretty glass a gorgeous cocktail perfectly crafted, mixologist porn I can recite circles around you about booze. I liked that she admitted to loving alcohol but she can drink it “normally” sorry, “enjoy” it responsibly, as alcohol marketing would have you hear.

which brings me to my next reveal which I was saving for THE BOOK.

At the beginning of the pandemic when I moved from Toronto to Burlington I worked for the LCBO, I was an essential worker. Me. Queen Smirnoff at the Liqbo (and I kept it secret from the internets). I am planning to deconstruct my time period of secretly working for 3 years in the lions den of hooch as a lush. I had to resign. They will come for me when I say what I got to say. I mean. I didn’t sign any NDAs and I don’t plan to lie about it — it’s my truth and my story. So fuck them I’m not scared. I learned a lot. It was good, it was bad, then it was ugly. I realized I am a very anxious person and being around alcohol as an alcoholic was like that girl who fell in a volcano, bitch, you too damn close.

However, obviously being an alcohol expert came in handy when recommending drinks from wine to tequila, beer, fucking everything, you name it, I drank the store. I am a living breathing database of wine, spirits, beer, ciders & RTD (ready-to-drink) knowledge. What do you wanna eat with that shit? I know that too. How hammered do you wanna get and money u wanna save blah blah all useless to me now. I’ve drank my last drink but I can still talk about it like how I fixate on foods and tv programs and internet garbage. Everything is alcohol to me now.

The inspiration of this post was Scotch. Mostly the drunken overpowering feeling of a Scotch drunk. The first couple sips you know what you’re getting into. Do not make plans, you are going nowhere. You will sound and look like Homer Simpson. Nothing you say will make any sense, you sound like a total idiot, and you won’t remember any promise or plan you made. And you’ll do it again despite the mega-hangover.

Vodka though. She was the one that really took me out. That’s a tale for another time.

Adios muchachos. Enjoy your Sunday.

If you’re struggling just know I have been there before and I am here to talk and tell you that you’re worth it and not alone and you can stop drinking. If you’re irritated just walk away, don’t let that glass of wine be the only thing that can get you through your life.

ps. leave me a comment here and tell me where you found this blog, my visits are skyrocketing right now so someone linked me someplace, but where? fucking tell me! actually might just be organic natural traffic coming from all my social feeds okay whatever i’m just a very curious need to know things type of person.

xo raymi

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the following are pictures of said guy:

when i first noticed him in the middle of our little enclave of people he was extremely into staring at the very essence of his soul in the mirror, in slow motion, INTENSELY, like hi that’s you, that’s me, i am you and you are me you know when you are blasted on whatever and you accidentally look in the mirror then 3 hours later you realize I HAVE BEEN STARING AT MYSELF AND CONTEMPLATING THE UNIVERSE FOR THE PAST THREE HOURS I THINK I FIGURED OUT THE MEANING OF LIFE .

he was COMPLETELY incomprehensible, he told me his name but i forget it now, he was really into SKIN and his bare arms and touching them, stroking them, SHOWCASING THEM ahahahha oh man no i will not touch your arm sorry. he asked us a million times to touch him. yeah i think this is seeming more like E the more i draw back on it and i am fully getting sketched out too, Olé!

yes you have an arm, yes it is veeeeeeeeery long right now and LOOK yes, there it is, right there, hi arm!

HOLY SHIT WHAT A DISCOVERY I DISCOVERED AGAIN: MY ARM

dj behind him was like just get away from this guy, disengage, but then i got really concerned, i asked him if he was alone and he goes I AM ALWAYS ALONE in the slurriest voice ever. oh great you emo poet thanks. then this other dude starts talking to him and looking at me all menacingly and i’m getting nervous cos i keep whispering in his ear i think your friend is on something don’t be offended that i know this (HAHAHAHAHHA)(I was really worried i was being offensive and somehow i was the only one in the world to notice his highness?) and you need to take care of him and i am simultaneously relieved cos now i can pawn him off on this chap sans guilt then the guy says um seriously? i am this close to shoving him (or something like that maybe more violent) i go what so he’s not your friend?? dude says no not at all i thought he was yours and that’s why i was being nice to him i said oh fuck please get him away take care of him do something guy says just ignore him.

steve is a paramedic and he said that the guy could not possibly freeze to death in the span of twelve hours based on friday nite’s temperature so don’t worry if he fell asleep in a snowbank come sun-up someone would find him, even w/o a jacket he’d be fine. thanks steve.

oh right he also kept grabbing my hair and getting his fingers tangled in it and pulling it which is when fil had finally had enough and took his hand out of my hair with his oj simpson gloved hands and steve formed a barricade around my body every time the guy tried to come back. he just couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t allowed to wrap his arms around my hair. aw.

i told you before about fil and his desire to wear his oj simpson gloves inside right? well he mentioned it friday nite too hahahaha he said it’s his thing or something, fil?

on purpose tattoo pose.

matt really hated my tolerance for that fucked up guy, he says i have a problem, based on the previous encounter with the grossman’s guy WHO NATALIE BUMPED INTO YESTERDAY!

hey steph why are you checking your phone?????

intense conversationalist much? jokes guy, jokes.

ok the rest are here if you care or forgot to check last time.

i am now in the feeling nauseous can’t have dairy or will explosively fill my pants stage of my sickness and apparently all my relatives have some form of sickness as well. we bought nice cheese from the cheese boutique, can’t have it. so mad and sad and i cant even drink to tune out the predictable ensuing family tension of fun.

i wish you guises luck as well.

oh and i forget how to curl hair properly, i don’t remember it being that difficult but anyway i want my hair to look like xiaxue‘s so i am watching this now, don’t ask me how to curl basically, watch this she also has extensions i think so if it works for those then this is a pretty good tutorial video:

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now that the wine fridge is gone the crap on the floor is more obvious, hate it.

made new butt shorts, i changed outfit last minute slightly and i should have covered my arm last nite it bumped into so many people and is now scabbing all gross (normal) but i’m still paro, i better not have cooties.

i was going to do a shotgunning ketchup pose (of course) and the lid was barely screwed on so this is an almost holy shit reaction.

grossman’s wall is my favourite sketchy wall in all of toronto.

once i gave our waitress one of the camera cases from my swag bag she was very generous in her wine pouring, this was to the brim before i sipped it and took this.

ugh, and so it begins. this guy smelled like crazy, WAS crazy, crazy drunk, aggressive, and we humoured him for way too long as you are about to witness in the following pictures. enjoy. i am so glad i was sitting in the corner protected by the table.

poor erin, this guy talked all over her food, so gross.

he said we were all hot and then accused us of being against queers, said he had a wife but he’s gay, he was all over the place. he eventually called me a punk cos i told him he blew it by touching my friends way too much and i gave him three warnings and politely said if you don’t tone it down i will be forced to get violent. HE ALMOST PULLED HIS DICK OUT!

natalie was going to gas peddle him. she went back and forth between cheering him on and hating him, at all the wrong times too, someone would go to the bathroom and miss out on how much further he was taking things. he called fil pretty and would not shut up.

he lifted his shirt ten thousand times.

sigh. thanks but no thanks.

um we fuckin’ get it already.

then he drags an innocent chick from the other side of the room into his layer of crazy.

aaaaand this is how much other patrons were appreciating him (my favourite picture). the girl was trying to help him out, at first you pity these guys right then they get on your nerves cos they’re so cocked and don’t realise they’re pushing their luck. natalie said she was two hours too late in helping him relax.

red shirt hi there, he was pretty close to removing crazy’s face.

fiiiinally matt goes and complains when he tried to show us his dick, i almost wish i didn’t stop him cos then i’d have an awesome picture for you guys. he told me he had been going to grossman’s before i was born but it sounded like i wurse cominz here befur you wiz even BORN. (he referenced this important FACT multiple times) so i said AND? what is your point? they’ve been tolerating you that long? he didn’t hear any of it though. believe it or not i was the nicest to him of us, erin almost punched his lights out. my other favourite part of the nite was the guitarist’s hair and how the band kept playing throughout.

see his undid fly.

TIME TO GO DUDE!

i love grossman’s, always a guaranteed sloppy time. once he was gone the guy yelling in his face in that one picture nestled in his amazon gf’s lap, so funny.

don’t think i don’t have a conscience, i empathize for drunks and crazies while at the same time being totally entertained by them, it doesn’t stop my compassion for their plight and i can tell that this guy when/if sober is actually a kind soul. issues up the yin yang of course, but still decent. good luck to you sir.

it was funny to me that i was being the sympathizer advice giver and he thought i was his enemy and ruiner of good times because i was gently suggesting he NOT pull out his dick. oh and i was a punk for it too.

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