Word up, hombres!
Well hello traffic spike! Yesterday was a very busy day for The Spadina Monologues, and I’m sure most of that is due to the lovely folks over at Eurail.com linking me up on their Facebook page. They have been my awesome European-extravaganza-benefactors and have been very encouraging and supportive for the kind of rail journey that I wanted to take.
So fanks for the linkage guys! And welcome new readers! Check out my Eurail 2012 category for all the posts on my journey thus far!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to Dropbox like its hot.
It’s a Twitter Miracle! Starring Eric McCormack & Christine Estima as herself
i should have known those two would be friends! ah LeVar, every time we interact, it gives me a lil tingle on the inside.
And this, my friends, is why you should all be on Twitter.
New York is such an amazing place. One where you can have lame Adrian Grenier hang times one week, and then amazing Eric McCormack hang times the next week.
Alright, I am officially celebrity-hang-timed-out. Leave me alone, famous people. NO PICTURES!
*CoughYeahRightNeverLeaveMeCough*
and I spelled ‘theatre’ the Canadian way, too
has a celebrity retweeted me and i’m missing it? cuz this tweet of mine has gone a bit stupid now.
it’s a decent amount of RTs, but nothing will ever top this tweet of mine which is still being RT’d to this day.
every day is a good day to go viral.
see you on the twatter, munchkins!
Nyan Cat takes to the streets
If you don’t know what Nyan Cat is, CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY. but just so that you are subjected to the awful meme that the rest of us had to endure last year, here is the original video that took over the world.
ANOTHER REASON WHY THE JAPANESE SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO MAKE MUSIC.
anyway, why bring this up?
someone near dundas street west and dovercourt hates us all.
damn you Nyan Cat.
damn you all to hell.
Justin Bieber and I are doing the nasty
i stupidly tweeted this on saturday night.
which resulted in this guy (the one with over 21,000,000 followers) retweeting me.
see?
(click to enlarge)
….and because of this, it resulted in me being bombarded by those fucking Beliebers. I could not keep up with the thousands of Belieber tweets, RTs, favourites, and follows being directed my way PER SECOND, that STILL hasn’t properly let up yet. Now my twitter feed stinks of the most horrifying thing in the world — puberty. I wouldn’t wish this kind of attention on any other 31 year old woman. He’s a 16 year old boy! What the fuck does he know about anything, other than X-box and masturbation? So why do SO MANY Beliebers treat him like a religious experience? He looks like a moderately powerful pokemon. He’s only famous because he repeated the word BABY more than any other human being in a 3 minute period…. like an autistic child in a maternity ward. That’s not musical talent, that’s a mental illness.
AND his voice sounds like a fox fucking a bagpipe.
Those Beliebers are TERRIFYING! They look like the sort of people you’d find in a Maury Povich holding pen. I betcha if Justin told them to go fuck themselves, they’d give it a shot.
Now from what the Beliebers tell me, there are millions of girls who would kill to get an RT from Justin…. like I should be grateful that I was noticed by a boy who was a ZYGOTE when i was in junior high. If that’s true, then millions of girls need to aspire to greater things in life.
Look Justin, fanks for the RT and all, but you have cursed me with the burden of your crazy hormonal tween fans who would kick the face off a badger to get your attention … and by extension, now my attention.
I will never buy your music, nor will I go to one of your concerts. The only thing that would ruin a Justin Bieber concert would be if my gun jammed.
I’m in the London Telegraph, no biggie…
back in january, i blogged about the Egypt protest TwitPic i shared that somehow ended up going viral, getting well over 30,000 views in just a few days. 12 months later, The London Telegraph has named my TwitPic one of The Most Discussed Twitter Pictures of 2011.
click the above image to check out my lil’ shout-out.
i’m well chuffed, not gonna lie.
this one time, on the internet …
late last night i tweeted this, and i broke the internet.
then this happened:
and then this followed:
until i somehow became the top tweet in the category:
unlike old twitter where you could see exactly how many people RT’d you, new twitter doesn’t allow you to see beyond 100 RTs, so i have no clue how many times this was RT’d. by the massive cornucopia of mentions that were vomited all over me in the period of a few hours, i’m going to estimate it was somewhere hovering around the 500-600 mark, but really, who knows.
my follower count jumped well over 3,000 too.
tweets of mine have gone viral before (see here and here for previous examples) but those occurred by and large because a celebrity RT’d me to get the ball rolling. in this case, i couldn’t find a celeb or an influential tweeter who RT’d me. so i guess i struck a nerve.
in any case, hello new readers and followers! you have excellent taste.
now shut up and show me your tweets.
even when you know the way it’s gonna blow, it’s hard to get around the wind
i can’t log on to Facebook or Twitter anymore these days without feeling like a piece of meat thrown into a lion’s den.
the following Twitter DMs and Facebook messages all arrived ON THE SAME DAY from different men that I either don’t know at all (as in, COMPLETE STRANGERS), or barely know peripherally.
i feel like i am being fondled by the very rattle snake whose venom is replacing my blood with nothingness.
*NAME REMOVED* Friend Request
Have you ever considered modeling?
Christine Estima
You’ll forgive me if this comes across as rude, but why do you ask? And how do I know you?
*NAME REMOVED*
I was just going through the “People You May Know” section and saw your picture. In fact, your dress caught my eye. Where did you get the dress? I don’t seem remember if we actually do know one another. I have some links in modeling agencies and your pictures was outstanding and I can envision you as a supermodel. You are pretty – That’s just it.
Christine Estima
That’s awfully kind of you to say but im not interested in modelling, thanks!
*NAME REMOVED*
That’s what my heart is saying… It’s ultimiately your decision. We can be friends though?
“as cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valley she lay beside me in the dews.”
Subject: Hotness.
*NAME REMOVED*
You have been drunkenly messaged. I don’t have your digits or it would’ve been a drunken call. Hope all is well gorgeous.
*NAME REMOVED EN FRANCAIS*
JTM Christine, tu excessivement belle tu prends en otage mon coeur. sur ce je souhaite fonder avec toi une relation amoureuse durable.
(for those of you that don’t speak french, this translates to, “I love you Christine, you are exceedingly beautiful, you have taken my heart hostage. I wish to forge a longterm romantic relationship with you.”)
*NAME REMOVED*
well now that you are underemployed and single … if you need an acomplace for some summertime hyjinx lemme know, my schedule is pretty flexible.
*NAME REMOVED*
two things: I will never lie to you and I’ll never mislead your emotions for sex
*NAME REMOVED*
beyond that, I’m drunk right now, which I know you’re not. I’m still interested in you because you are different then most girls.
christineestima
thats sweet & im flattered but i dont date twitter ppl. i dont know u or anything bout u.
*NAME REMOVED*
I’m not looking for a gf, and “date” doesn’t preclude “meet”. Further “meet” doesn’t include “sex”. There is no “taking advantage” of you
*NAME REMOVED*
*exclude not preclude
*NAME REMOVED*
We’re at least 15 dates away before we’d ever talk about a relationship
christineestima
you’re a nice guy but i’ve already given you my answer
*NAME REMOVED*
well at least I’ve defended my gender 
. You keep bringing up “date” which is significantly different than “meet” which will eventually…
*NAME REMOVED*
happen, statistical likelihood – It’s truly fine if you don’t want to meet me, but don’t use twitter as an excuse, it belittles us both
christineestima
if u want to “meet” then come out to the tweet ups. you’ll “meet” lots of people. toronto is a big city, there is no statistical likelihood. Also, i don’t use twitter as a dating service. if u do, don’t force it upon me
christineestima
im tryin to be nice here, but you keep forcing the point. how many times do i have to say i’m not interested? pls just let me be.
*NAME REMOVED*
Actually just once, but you have to say the words. I personally hate innuendo of any kind. Enjoy your life
the gay Pride parade was amazing. First I saw this license plate (Simsimas) which is basically my full name! (say Christine Estima 5 times really fast, this is what you get). Sim Simma! Who got da keys to mah beemah?
Martin wore this amazing tshirt which garnered a lot of adoration in the gaybourhood.
then this happened.
i took this photo with my blackberry and it went semi-viral. In 24 hours, it generated over 1,300 hits. Not exactly viral, but within the toronto community, it`s pretty safe to say a lot of Pride-goers have seen this.
i was going to say something here about the obviousness of this photo, but i have decided that, in the spirit of Pride, and inclusion, and community, and non-discrimination, i am just going to say that i think it’s great that not everyone has the same kind of body shame and issues as most people do.
Pride is about encouraging everyone to love themselves just the way they are.
so whatever you may think about the aesthetics of this person, you gotta admire their chutzpah.
i ran into gregory alan elliott in kensington market the day after i snapped this photo during Pride. i hadn’t seen him since this when we met over on ossington. it seems that running into him has book-ended this period of my life. i saw him right before, and i see him immediately after a lot of shit has gone down.
anyway, he gave me a poster he made that says “Circus-Sized Peanuts.” fricken clever, hombre. he said he wanted to give it to me because it’s the same kind of turn of phrase as “The Spadina Monologues.”
i guess i made an impression.
i also ran into timothy, one of the players from my Indian clusterfuck two years ago. we were both as yes yes ya’ll, a gay hip hop event in the annex during Pride weekend. he licked my arse and made it seem like he didn’t try to make my life a living hell. he even said that he thought of me recently when rachel weisz and daniel craig wed, because he had told me when we were in Jaipur that i look like Rachel Weisz.
i wasn’t impressed.
years ago, i had a patrick marber quote at the bottom of this blog that read, “lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off.”
replace “lying” with “graffiti,” that’s the current state of mind.
and maybe, even “slaughter.”
Realizing you’ve been a fool is one thing. Realizing you’ll always be a fool is another thing altogether
hipster douchebag café art exhibit full of glittering assholes who appreciate art.
“It’s a lie. It’s a bunch of sad strangers photographed beautifully, and all the glittering assholes who appreciate art say it’s beautiful ’cause that’s what they wanna see. But the people in the photos are sad, and alone. But the pictures make the world seem beautiful, so the exhibition is reassuring which makes it a lie,
and everyone loves a big fat lie.”
truth be told, i am one of those hipster douchebag pretentious fuckwits. i love this work.
“i don’t like the black earring! think if i ask her, she’ll edit out the black earring?”
let’s play spot-the-douchebag-sailor.
* * *
HER: “do you feel anything for me?”
HIM: “well… i’m sexually attracted to you.”
that response …. nothing could have hurt her more.
she got off the phone but she didn’t cry. she lay her head down and stared at the ceiling.
there is nothing left to say, she thought. and if there is, those things are better said with the lights off.
so she kept the lights on all night.
he was so clever.
he really had her going.
well played, sir. rookie mistake.
he got what he wanted. and they both get to live with it.
but lucky for her, she has yet to meet a man she couldn’t live without.
* * *
many of you in toronto’s social media (and love to gossip) know of the Nat & Marie show, a popular uStream show which talks about what’s hot in viral videos, social media, memes, and every thing that’s hot online. Nat was away this past week, so Marie asked me to couch it up with her on the UBC (urban barn couch), and we had a really great show together. you can watch the whole thing in its entirety here, i think i did rather well as i’d never done live broadcasting before (other than the times i’ve been interviewed on talkshows and the news).
of course, knowing me, at the 50 minute mark, i start going off on why i love graffiti and street art.
and at the 1 hour 23 minute mark, i say some foul-mouthed awesomeness.
really the only reason Marie brought me on the show was because i forced her.
Marie and I are members of the League of Awesome Brunettes.
too many people give blondes all the garlands. we dispel that myth that blondes have more fun. i say, blondes only have more fungus.
watch our epic show together in its entirety below:
* * *
i never forget a pussy.
these gorgeous pussies. i house sat for them this week. Welcome to LOLcatsville. Population: deux.
I CAN HAZ CHEESEBURGER
* * *
street art bringing on the panic attack:
found this off of dundas west when i went for an after-work jog. if it weren’t for all the dundas west construction, i may not have found this.
this is near the entrance to the green room.
i doff my hat to you, sir.
* * *
you can’t tell my mouth is full of scones, can you?
love you vicki.
* * *
i tell len that i think the sexiest parts of my body are my brain, my guts, and my spine.
len says, “your heart’s pretty hot too. i’d know. it’s a big one. and your chin, ‘cos you can take a punch.”
blame it on my ADD baby
i am officially a meme.
this photo was taken just over 4 years ago when i lived in the UK, on a national express bus from oxford to london. i had been particularly emotional that day, as everyone in oxford was in groups, or in pairs, and there was lonesome me. i was so lonely, it ate away at me like a locust. the next egyptian-like plague, known as my boyfriend, was just about to befall me in a week’s time, but right before this photo was taken, i had actually been crying. not the kind of crying that screws up your face and makes veins pop. something softer, something only you know you’re doing. ironic that this one photo is meme’d with a FUCK YEAH. i certainly didn’t feel that way at the time.
also, look at how different i looked back then! what’s with my eyebrows?
* * *
i went to the press screening of Forks Over Knives this week and wrote this film review. seriously, planet, when this film opens, you are REQUIRED to go see it. this is a short documentary of unimaginable brilliance, astute observations, and such a tight-shoe-string budget that you can’t help but love its lack of flash and pizzaz. it could use a bit of rearranging, as some sequences have choppy editing and a confusing non-linear-ity (so not a word, but whatever), but you won’t forget it’s message for a long time. read my review, and watch the trailer below. enjoy!
* * *
i cannot get over how sexy this song is.
i like riding in the back of half-empty streetcars with boys. windows all around, surrounded by cars. awash in lights. but our eyes our glazing over at the heat from the freshly-bloomed season. the night ties its ends to our appendages, and we can’t untie ourselves without moaning, or attracting attention from the other streetcar riders.
i say something about ‘riding the rocket’ and we collapse into giggles.
* * *
the thing about street art is, it’s ephemeral, it’s livable, it’s democratic, it’s untamed, and you aren’t intimidated by gallery owners whose shoes cost more than you make in a year. you can enjoy art and comments on society for free, on your way to work.
remember how whilst in new york city i found that tom hanks sticker that was awfully clever? turns out, it’s part of an entire sequence!
hansky, you had me at splash.
reg and i meet up after work and i end up buying the sunglasses i had two years ago whilst in india but then sat on and broke. i remember paying $14 for them in kensington market. i find them for $6.80. kensington you thief of hearts. reg and i have a sushi dinner and we’re talking about the things in life that concern us like we can’t figure out how to muddle our way through ourselves. the advice we give the other is so simple, so straightforward, so no nonsense, but we can’t bring ourselves to direct that advice at ourselves. i wondered if i was being rude, and our waiter was kinda insane.
i spent a few hours at tequila bookworm writing in my journal, and ended up finishing it off. i have kept a written journal since the age of 7. i can go back and revisit my life any time i want because i recorded things i did, feelings i felt, experiences i had, people i met, all meticulously. we’re living in interesting times, but memories fail. now is the time to record things.
i’m looking at my bookshelf right now, and en entire row is full of my life’s journals. the places i’ve been, the men i’ve loved, the friends i’ve lost, the people i’ve hated.
sometimes i wonder what i’ll do with this record of my life. will i bury it? will i publish it? will i give it to my grandkids? i might just end up burning them. if people ever really knew the real me, the things that even i don’t like to admit to myself, i wonder what would happen.
you’ll realize that you never really know a person.
speaking of india, i have to start a new journal now, and i’m going to use the leather-bound, hand-crafted journal i bought in Udaipur for 250 rupees (which is like a couple bucks when you convert it).
before and after. which would you rather have on your wall?
don’t remove street art, or we’ll cock-ify you.
so remember in my last post i mentioned how sick i had been on friday and had to take the day off work. well that day, a gift arrived at my desk, so i only received it on monday upon my return. there was no name on it, no return address, no one to thank.
whoever it was clearly knows me well, as they sent me SOY milk, coffee, and a nice mug. but who sends stuff to my office? and takes such meticulous care to wrap it up? and doesn’t leave their name? my tweeple (follow me on twitter, by the way) think it’s a secret admirer, but wouldn’t a secret admirer at least leave some clues? at least one hint?
it’s probably a work colleague or business associate.
still, i think the 16 year old girl in me wants it to be a secret admirer. how romantic.
i found my first sheppard fairey andre-the-giant-obey sticker in NYC recently, and then i found my first sheppard fairy TORONTO sticker a few weeks ago. and now, they’re everywhere. here’s one i found on queen west near ryerson avenue.
and then another, even better-placed sticker, just a few poles down from the first. i don’t know when sheppard fairey was last in toronto, but next time he’s here, i want to usurp his wife. just sayin.
i’m having fun with editing photos lately, this will reoccur now and then, get used to it, my darling munchkins.
i went to the exclaim anniversary party at wrongbar, saw juno winner Shad perform whilst eating wasabi mashed potatos and raw veggie spring rolls. it was actually almost better than last years party. i love how the places i write for invite me to epic city-wide shit.
i’m sorry, i can’t hear you over the sound of my awesomeness.
so i’m walking along after work and i find this amazing wheatpaste piece of artistic genius! it’s FORDZILLA! rob ford, the mayor and well-known art terrorist, portrayed as a godzilla eating our streetcars.
this man is horrifying, but this artistic rendering is actually rather proportional. he’s in the exact same shape as the death star he’s building.
then i’m walking along queen near augusta, and look, i find another one (photo edited to look wicked-cool). now he’s eating a spray can, because of his war on graffiti artists. luckily, someone was smart enough to label him a skinhead here.
HEY TORONTO STREET ARTIST WHO IS MAKING THESE FORDZILLAS, PLEASE CONTACT ME. I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIENNNNNNNND.
my mother is pretty dangerous, it’s true, she is a broken down construction site near baldwin village as well.
MUM QUIT WITH THE BLOG-READING AND MAKE WITH THE FOOD.
i ain’t going no where.
here’s another bit of street art (cleverly enhanced with editing) i found on queen west.
this is hauntingly beautiful, arresting really. the only name i could find on it is written vertically up the side, that says ‘deadboy’ but a google search reveals nothing. who are you, artist?
deadboy, did you love someone? did you lose someone?
these are the things i wonder about when i’m riding the subway back and forth between uptown and downtown, trying to read my commuter-convenient novel, but am more fascinated by the living.
kings may come and then go, having sex in the snow
the newspaper headlines reporting bin laden’s death.
compare and contrast.
i took this photo on monday morning and posted it online. within 24 hours, it had over 1200 views. i’d classify that as verging on viral.
it’s official. we have replaced ethics for hype.
having a headline like this detracts from the important issues that people actually care about.
this is pure knee-jerk, reactionary editorializing on the front page that is meant to anger people and appeal to their baser instincts instead of allowing them to form their own opinions from the news. this is here just to sell papers, rather than offering facts on the issue. also the word ‘hell’ in there implies religious connotations that not everyone subscribes to. even religious people would have to agree that “rot in hell” is not a very ecumenical statement and is not endorsed by any church. editorials have no place on front page headlines, and this newspaper, by refusing to hold any issue’s feet to the fire, is calling into question the intelligence of its readers. whether or not bin laden deserved what he got isn’t the question.
when we dumb down the issues to something like this, nobody wins.
the appropriate response to hate is NOT more hate.
* * *
so for hockey election night in Canada, i was invited down to CityTV broadcast headquarters to attend #CityVote, an event where, in their own words, “high-profile tweeters” (that’s so going in my bio) gathered to live-tweet the election and the results, without getting arrested by Elections Canada.
that’s me, doing my job credibly in-studio via UberSocial Twitter on Blackberry
and that’s one of my tweets flashing across the broadcast.
it was a great event, attended by some great twitter-buds and tweethearts of mine, and we were all pretty much in agreement that basically:
The Stache is Da Man.
Also Stephen Harper can now resume building his deathstar in peace.
canadians can’t even do this.
fuck this, i want to see Harper’s long-form birth certificate.
i am extremely excited about Jack Layton and the NDPs political coup in decimating the Liberals as the official opposition, and i’m also so happy for Elizabeth May as the first Green Party Member of Parliament, but now that we have a Harper majority, i can say this, without hyperbole, that this will be the last time we see democracy in action again in this country. hope you enjoyed that.
fucking Fat Alberta, good for nothing province, i blame you for this election. we should invade that province, the only thing they have to defend themselves with is plastic knives and forks, and fucking fat cowboys.
interestingly enough, i wrote this article about the politics surrounding the battle for Trinity-Spadina the day before the election for rabble.ca, a political publication that i have loved for years, so to be asked to write this article was really exciting for me.
read and enjoy!
* * *
the contact photography festival is going on right now (alongside hot docs! agh! so much festival-jaculations, so little kleenex to go around), and phil and i found this amazing outdoor exhibit at front and spadina. this is like legal, permitted street art. but that doesn’t negate its potency or the raw, wild, untamed nature of the work. it’s ephemeral, and it’s free.
my two favourite things.
look at his eyes.
they follow you!
* * *
my office is located around queen and spadina, and i had heard that the last remaining banksy graffiti from his unannounced visit here last year was sitting right across the street from my daily-grindin’-desk. so after work last week, i went for a stroll to see what i could find.
this building is soon-to-be a hotel. how did i find that out?
as i stood on the lawn, overlooking banksy’s rat, the owner popped out and called out to me, “do you want to see what it looked like before it was defaced?”
“sure,” i said.
he walked over with a framed photograph of the banksy rat and said that the photo was taken the day it went up, and that the very next day, someone had defaced it with the word “love!” and other nonsense.
it looks like he’s tried to restore it somewhat, but a lot of the strokes have been buried under someone else’s spray.
the owner then told me that he was offered $150,000 by some guy to cut out the bricks sporting the banksy rat, so he could add it to his collection, and the guy would replace the bricks and make it all nice again.
the owner told the guy “no, because this now belongs to the people of toronto, not me.”
a man after my own heart.
the owner then let me in ON A BANKSY SECRET!
he said Banksy’s best mate from adolescence (from bristol? really?) lives just down the street from the hotel, that’s why Banksy was here last year, to visit him.
banksy apparently has plans to return this summer, and will make some art at the launch of the new hotel which will open in june.
i asked “when exactly will that be?”
“i don’t know,” he replied.
“if you did know, would you tell me?”
long pause.
“no.”
here’s the framed photo of what it looked like before it was defaced.
i gave the hotel owner my business card, and said he should contact me, you know, on the fly, if he wanted to give me a head’s up about, oh you know, whatever may happen this summer that i may or may not be interested in.
wink wink.
* * *
remember in my last post, i mentioned that some street art i found was done by fauxreel? i emailed him and said,
just a quick message to say that i’m a big fan of your work. i found one of your pieces recently on adelaide street near simcoe and blogged about it, and then realized that you’re also behind the two wheatpaste pieces of the open-mouthed kids on leslie just north of sheppard. i see those two pieces every day on my commute to work (i unfortunately live up there, lol!) and i love them so much because that area NEVER gets any thoughtful street art like that, and i think they’re brilliant.congrats on all your success sir! uda man.-Christine
Fauxreel replied! his real name is dan bergeron, and he said,
hi christine,
thanks for your note…i’m glad you enjoy my work…the pieces on leslie were part of a project i worked on with Artstarts for the Villawayz housing community…it was great to put work up in a part of the city that rarely ever sees public art installations…and the piece on adelaide was just something fun, part of a series called men at work, in which i install images of blue collar workers interacting with the urban landscape…db
i officially have a new art-star to worship.
* * *
another reason why being a member of the press rules.
my media badge got me into the one and only, sold-out, capacity screening of Beats, Rhymes & Life: A Tribe Called Quest documentary at Hot Docs. watch the trailer, and get excited.
>i’ve got love for you if you were born in the 80s
>
and i just look at the man sitting across from me, and then to the boy with the stretched earlobe piercings flopping down to his shoulders, and wanted to stab myself with a fork.
“ewm…erm…i…i…i…waa…..uh…orm…..flerrrrn…” is i think what came out of my mouth. i was rendered absolutely speechless.
MOR.TI.FIED.
i couldn’t exactly say, “i’m with this man, sorry,” because we were just meeting for an innocent cuppa and i didn’t know if he’d freak out if i used him as an excuse (although he did tell me later that i could’ve said that, dammit). and the kid just wouldn’t stop trying to chat me up right in front of my coffee-partner! AWKWARD.
i took the kids number in an effort to get rid of him and to shut him up, nonetheless he wanted to stay and talk ignoring that i was clearly with someone else.
i guess that’s what i get for shooting my mouth off loud enough for people to hear.
anyhoo, the man in question and i moved cafes to another joint, and talked for about 3 hours. then he invited me to his one-man show over the weekend. it was actually more of a cabaret style performance. great showtunes and songs, piano music, stories and anecdotes about love, french pastries and wine, art on the walls, it was really something.
and his personal stories….they were funny, they were poignant….i got a little emotional.
during intermission, his old school teacher, who was sitting next to me, hovers over me and asks in a sing-songy voice, “are you his girlfriend?!”
i think i replied something along the lines of “ewm…erm…i…i…i…waa…..uh…orm…..flerrrrn….”
Merchants of Green Coffee, F’Coffee, The Mascot, Crafted by Te Aro, Te Aro Roasted, Rooster Coffee House, Red Rocket Coffee (on Queen East), and Moonbeam.
Cafe 260, Ground Level Cafe, Bisogno Cafe, Crema Coffee, Red Rocket Coffee (on Wellesley), and Linuxcaffe.
sacha, dan and jonathan (& son Jacob)
so i was a bit worried at first that the 20-person-table i reserved at the Gladstone wouldn’t be filled because everyone kept bailing on me at the last minute (one of my friends actually messaged me to say he couldn’t make it because he had to “go to the gym.” people are such tools). but slowly the place started to fill with all of my lovely mates and we ended up having such a great time…until….
…..i’ve mentioned in a previous post how there was this guy, this really ugly-sex guy that i made out with at sofi’s party a couple weeks ago, and how i’d probably have to start avoiding his calls, and texts. boy have i ever. not only has the dude been incessantly leaving me voicemails, or texting me, but he’s also been leaving me so many FB messages.
“hey sexy how are you?”
“hey what’s going on gorgeous?”
“have i told you how beautiful you are yet today?”
barf. i mean, these types of messages would be welcome if they weren’t from someone who looked like if you told him to go fuck himself, he’d give it a shot.
dude is terrifying.
and you would think that after all of his messages that i’ve been ignoring, he’d read between the lines and TAKE A HINT but no.
if the situation were reversed, and i kept texting and calling and FB messaging some guy with no response, i’d be labeled a “needy, desperate chick.” but when a guy does it, he’s just “assertive.’
plus, it’s not like i can be at all flattered by his attention, seeing as how i’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s been sending the exact same messages to other girls that he fancies. dude got out of a relationship recently, is obviously hurting, and now wants to be a man-whore with whoever he can find. but he probably shouldn’t be doing it with people who KNOW his ex-girlfriend.
so during the course of my boozy-brunch, when i’m having such a great time with my friends, and catching up, and being all squealy (i’m a squealer), guess who AMBUSHES it.
sofi and patrick!
the look on my face clearly was one of shock and utter horror. WHO DOES THAT? who shows up, unannounced and clearly uninvited to someone’s birthday for the sole purpose of ambushing them. oh you won’t answer my desperate messages? guess i’ll go ruin your birthday!
and seeing as how we have some mutual friends (they’re MY friends, and his acquaintances-not-really), and they don’t know that he aggressively tried it on with me, they all starred at me when he arrived, wondering what the fuck he was doing there. and clearly when my look of oh-fuck-now-i-have-a-situation-on-my-hands burned across my cheeks, they probably knew something was up, and i will now hafta field some uncomfy questions.
KEITH YOU RULE AT PHOTOBOMBS! oh hai jess and soph!
i was angry, i was mortified, but mostly i wanted to clobber him. if i had done that to a boy who was ignoring my texts, i’d be seen as a crazy psycho stalker.
so when most of my friends had left, he pulled me aside and asked “why are you ignoring meeeeeeeeee?” wah wah wah, i’ll call the waaaaaaaaaaaambulance, dude.
do you really think you’re irresistable, you twat.
so in my most gentle voice that i usually reserve for 4-year-olds, i told him that getting it on with some bloke who used to date a girl i know isn’t for me. again, i assumed that by telling him this, he could read between the lines that I’M NOT INTERESTED. you are a douchey imbecile of the lowest order and you behave like a wife-beater.
instead, a few hours later after leaving, he sends me this FB message:
It was great to see you today. That dress looks exquisite on you, and makes your skin look delicious.
Thanks for filling me in, I must say I was disappointed I never heard from you. I was really excited to see you.
Anyway shhhhh…. discretion is the key:) I think your super sexy, wicked smart, and I like your style girl.
All the best babe.
regurgitate! regurgitate!
we bring up all the food we ate!
vee-ohh-emm-eye-teee
VOMIT
that’s the crazy stalker ugmo ambusher. blurred for his anonymity and to protect his privacy. grossssss.
so i wrote back angrily and said that i’m glad we cleared things up, BUT MY BIRTHDAY WAS NOT THE APPROPRIATE TIME TO DO IT, you ruined my day.
ass.
and i don’t drink. ever. anyone who knows me, knows that i don’t touch alcohol. it’s just not my thing. but keith bought me a shot. so i downed it.
and now i wanna watch Lance et Compte.
anyhoo, watch the Funkytown trailer here:
i’ve scored myself a ticket to The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. now i’m definitely headed to NYC at the end of March.
epic win
i’ve got love for you if you were born in the 80s
and i just look at the man sitting across from me, and then to the boy with the stretched earlobe piercings flopping down to his shoulders, and wanted to stab myself with a fork.
“ewm…erm…i…i…i…waa…..uh…orm…..flerrrrn…” is i think what came out of my mouth. i was rendered absolutely speechless.
MOR.TI.FIED.
i couldn’t exactly say, “i’m with this man, sorry,” because we were just meeting for an innocent cuppa and i didn’t know if he’d freak out if i used him as an excuse (although he did tell me later that i could’ve said that, dammit). and the kid just wouldn’t stop trying to chat me up right in front of my coffee-partner! AWKWARD.
i took the kids number in an effort to get rid of him and to shut him up, nonetheless he wanted to stay and talk ignoring that i was clearly with someone else.
i guess that’s what i get for shooting my mouth off loud enough for people to hear.
anyhoo, the man in question and i moved cafes to another joint, and talked for about 3 hours. then he invited me to his one-man show over the weekend. it was actually more of a cabaret style performance. great showtunes and songs, piano music, stories and anecdotes about love, french pastries and wine, art on the walls, it was really something.
and his personal stories….they were funny, they were poignant….i got a little emotional.
during intermission, his old school teacher, who was sitting next to me, hovers over me and asks in a sing-songy voice, “are you his girlfriend?!”
i think i replied something along the lines of “ewm…erm…i…i…i…waa…..uh…orm…..flerrrrn….”
Merchants of Green Coffee, F’Coffee, The Mascot, Crafted by Te Aro, Te Aro Roasted, Rooster Coffee House, Red Rocket Coffee (on Queen East), and Moonbeam.
Cafe 260, Ground Level Cafe, Bisogno Cafe, Crema Coffee, Red Rocket Coffee (on Wellesley), and Linuxcaffe.
sacha, dan and jonathan (& son Jacob)
so i was a bit worried at first that the 20-person-table i reserved at the Gladstone wouldn’t be filled because everyone kept bailing on me at the last minute (one of my friends actually messaged me to say he couldn’t make it because he had to “go to the gym.” people are such tools). but slowly the place started to fill with all of my lovely mates and we ended up having such a great time…until….
…..i’ve mentioned in a previous post how there was this guy, this really ugly-sex guy that i made out with at sofi’s party a couple weeks ago, and how i’d probably have to start avoiding his calls, and texts. boy have i ever. not only has the dude been incessantly leaving me voicemails, or texting me, but he’s also been leaving me so many FB messages.
“hey sexy how are you?”
“hey what’s going on gorgeous?”
“have i told you how beautiful you are yet today?”
barf. i mean, these types of messages would be welcome if they weren’t from someone who looked like if you told him to go fuck himself, he’d give it a shot.
dude is terrifying.
and you would think that after all of his messages that i’ve been ignoring, he’d read between the lines and TAKE A HINT but no.
if the situation were reversed, and i kept texting and calling and FB messaging some guy with no response, i’d be labeled a “needy, desperate chick.” but when a guy does it, he’s just “assertive.’
plus, it’s not like i can be at all flattered by his attention, seeing as how i’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s been sending the exact same messages to other girls that he fancies. dude got out of a relationship recently, is obviously hurting, and now wants to be a man-whore with whoever he can find. but he probably shouldn’t be doing it with people who KNOW his ex-girlfriend.
so during the course of my boozy-brunch, when i’m having such a great time with my friends, and catching up, and being all squealy (i’m a squealer), guess who AMBUSHES it.
sofi and patrick!
the look on my face clearly was one of shock and utter horror. WHO DOES THAT? who shows up, unannounced and clearly uninvited to someone’s birthday for the sole purpose of ambushing them. oh you won’t answer my desperate messages? guess i’ll go ruin your birthday!
and seeing as how we have some mutual friends (they’re MY friends, and his acquaintances-not-really), and they don’t know that he aggressively tried it on with me, they all starred at me when he arrived, wondering what the fuck he was doing there. and clearly when my look of oh-fuck-now-i-have-a-situation-on-my-hands burned across my cheeks, they probably knew something was up, and i will now hafta field some uncomfy questions.
KEITH YOU RULE AT PHOTOBOMBS! oh hai jess and soph!
i was angry, i was mortified, but mostly i wanted to clobber him. if i had done that to a boy who was ignoring my texts, i’d be seen as a crazy psycho stalker.
so when most of my friends had left, he pulled me aside and asked “why are you ignoring meeeeeeeeee?” wah wah wah, i’ll call the waaaaaaaaaaaambulance, dude.
do you really think you’re irresistable, you twat.
so in my most gentle voice that i usually reserve for 4-year-olds, i told him that getting it on with some bloke who used to date a girl i know isn’t for me. again, i assumed that by telling him this, he could read between the lines that I’M NOT INTERESTED. you are a douchey imbecile of the lowest order and you behave like a wife-beater.
instead, a few hours later after leaving, he sends me this FB message:
It was great to see you today. That dress looks exquisite on you, and makes your skin look delicious.
Thanks for filling me in, I must say I was disappointed I never heard from you. I was really excited to see you.
Anyway shhhhh…. discretion is the key:) I think your super sexy, wicked smart, and I like your style girl.
All the best babe.
regurgitate! regurgitate!
we bring up all the food we ate!
vee-ohh-emm-eye-teee
VOMIT
that’s the crazy stalker ugmo ambusher. blurred for his anonymity and to protect his privacy. grossssss.
so i wrote back angrily and said that i’m glad we cleared things up, BUT MY BIRTHDAY WAS NOT THE APPROPRIATE TIME TO DO IT, you ruined my day.
ass.
and i don’t drink. ever. anyone who knows me, knows that i don’t touch alcohol. it’s just not my thing. but keith bought me a shot. so i downed it.
and now i wanna watch Lance et Compte.
anyhoo, watch the Funkytown trailer here:
i’ve scored myself a ticket to The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. now i’m definitely headed to NYC at the end of March.
epic win
>honey, sometimes love means getting a little rough
>
a few days ago i posted this TwitPic (which i originally found here) and within a few hours it had gone viral. my original tweet about it has been RT’d at last count almost 400 times, and the TwitPic itself, at last count, had just surpassed 30,000 views. i’m extremely humbled and awed at this moment by the power of the internet. other people posted the same photo on their picture-sharing sites, but for some reason, my TwitPic is the one being sent around the world. i can’t keep up with all the comments and messages flowing in on my end, so i’ll just say thank you to everyone for spreading the word, and keeping the plight of the Egyptian people in your thoughts. i don’t take credit at all for the photo, but by sharing it, we are defying those authorities who would wish to suppress the sharing of information, the truth, and the severity of the situation.
this reminds me of the G20 here in toronto this past summer. while it’s true that no one was killed in Toronto by the governing authorities, the brutality of the police, the illegal actions taken by the government to suppress political protests and the right of assembly, and the information ban, bears a striking similarity.
get political.
if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.
check out my live concert review of last night’s White Lies gig at the Mod Club. while i am a huge fan, i had to be objective, even though i had a great time at the concert. they lost serious points with me. what do you think? were you there? comments and feedback much appreciated.
* * *
so the other night was Strip Spelling Bee with sofi and sherwin. for those of you who were there, i was the ‘ring girl’ who held up the ’round 1, 2, 3..” signs in between each cycle. i have absolutely no photos from this event because, to protect the privacy and security of the spellers, no photos at all were allowed.
so there’s no photographic evidence of me splitting my skirt on stage….whilst wearing absolutely no underwear.
good times.
i was live-tweeting the event however, and many of you appreciated all of my “boom-boom” & “doodle” euphemisms. i saw so many unshaven boom-booms and doodles, i felt like i was in a ron jeremy flick.
at one point i yelled out (and tweeted) LESS TALK, MORE COCK.
i really should have that written on a T-shirt. sums up my social life rather accurately.
this photo was taken of me by photographer Becca Lemire at the Gladstone Hotel’s 5th anniversary party and is up on Toronto’s best blog (as voted by Now Magazine’s readers) She Does The City!
“my heart was hot within me: while i was musing, the fire burned.” -39th psalm of david
honey, sometimes love means getting a little rough
a few days ago i posted this TwitPic (which i originally found here) and within a few hours it had gone viral. my original tweet about it has been RT’d at last count almost 400 times, and the TwitPic itself, at last count, had just surpassed 30,000 views. i’m extremely humbled and awed at this moment by the power of the internet. other people posted the same photo on their picture-sharing sites, but for some reason, my TwitPic is the one being sent around the world. i can’t keep up with all the comments and messages flowing in on my end, so i’ll just say thank you to everyone for spreading the word, and keeping the plight of the Egyptian people in your thoughts. i don’t take credit at all for the photo, but by sharing it, we are defying those authorities who would wish to suppress the sharing of information, the truth, and the severity of the situation.
this reminds me of the G20 here in toronto this past summer. while it’s true that no one was killed in Toronto by the governing authorities, the brutality of the police, the illegal actions taken by the government to suppress political protests and the right of assembly, and the information ban, bears a striking similarity.
get political.
if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.
check out my live concert review of last night’s White Lies gig at the Mod Club. while i am a huge fan, i had to be objective, even though i had a great time at the concert. they lost serious points with me. what do you think? were you there? comments and feedback much appreciated.
* * *
so the other night was Strip Spelling Bee with sofi and sherwin. for those of you who were there, i was the ‘ring girl’ who held up the ’round 1, 2, 3..” signs in between each cycle. i have absolutely no photos from this event because, to protect the privacy and security of the spellers, no photos at all were allowed.
so there’s no photographic evidence of me splitting my skirt on stage….whilst wearing absolutely no underwear.
good times.
i was live-tweeting the event however, and many of you appreciated all of my “boom-boom” & “doodle” euphemisms. i saw so many unshaven boom-booms and doodles, i felt like i was in a ron jeremy flick.
at one point i yelled out (and tweeted) LESS TALK, MORE COCK.
i really should have that written on a T-shirt. sums up my social life rather accurately.
this photo was taken of me by photographer Becca Lemire at the Gladstone Hotel’s 5th anniversary party and is up on Toronto’s best blog (as voted by Now Magazine’s readers) She Does The City!
“my heart was hot within me: while i was musing, the fire burned.” -39th psalm of david
>no one will answer your prayers until you take off that dress
>
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One by one, participants are asked to spell a word. If they get it right, they sit down. If they get it wrong, they must striptease A THIRD of their clothing off.
The winner of the Bee takes home $50!
Best striptease will also take home $50!
This is a queer, senior and trans-friendly event. We have a NO BOOING policy strictly in effect. No photos are allowed except by our Official Photographer. Our goal is to have everyone feel safe, secure and comfortable enough to strip and spell.
you sick piggies, hungry for smut!
my last blog post broke all my records for the most hits in a less-than-24-hour period.
i posted that around 5-something-PM. by day’s closing, 11:59PM, the traffic for that ONE post hit 600 unique hits.
i stopped counting after 24 hours (it’s doubled, last i checked), but i was floored how many of you enjoy a good gossip-clusterfuck-shitstorm loaded with multiple sarcasms, even though you don’t know personally who i’m shit-talking!
awwwww. bless.
my problem, i told him, was that even though he didn’t remember doing it, he STILL did it. so how was i supposed to express to him how hurtful that was if he was going to hide behind the banner of “i don’t remember?”
so we talked about why THIS time was different from other times he’s been drunk, and at first he was worried that since he behaved so outlandishly and didn’t remember a thing, and had no hangover the next morning, that maybe he might have a drinking problem. but upon further investigation into his whereabouts before the dinner and who he was with, now it seems, in all likelihood, that some bartenders in yorkville wanted to fuck with him. he suspects that he was roofied or something was slipped into his drink without his knowledge. all signs, the more we dig into this, are pointing to that. he’s corroborated his story with another gent who was with him earlier in the night who also had a similar (and horrifying) night. so really, if he was drugged, he has my sympathy.
after we hung up, he also sent me a very apologetic message on facebook, reiterating his remorse. he also said that he values me as a friend and hopes we’ll be able to maintain that.
actually, he’s since sent me a total of 4 FB messages apologizing and explaining things.
and let me tell you something, i highly respect that.
people make mistakes, people piss you off. shit happens. that’s life. but i am not the type of person to cut people out and write them off completely for one night’s debauchery and bullshit. i don’t like holding grudges, they just fester and rot inside you anyway. it takes a genuine person to not only feel remorse, but to admit when mistakes were made and even more to apologize for them. Colin proved himself to be an upstanding man, owning up to stuff, and taking responsibility. that is the mark of a good person, in my opinion.
so of course i accepted his extremely gracious and thoughtful apology. i told him we’re cool, and that i’ll be okay.
his next problem, however, was apologizing to “Gus” and to “Ruby.” he tried calling Gus but couldn’t get through (or Gus wasn’t picking up). either way, he wrote them messages with his apology, and finally got through to Gus a few days later. seeing as how Gus and Colin are best mates and have known each other for so long, i never once for a second believed this would cause a rift. even though i can’t say that i know Gus that well, every time i see him, he is always very pleasant and doesn’t seem to be a malicious, grudge-holding person. Gus also noted that he’s seen Colin wasted before and he’s never been such a disaster, which also lends to our belief he was drugged.
so even though a crisis wasn’t averted, the clean-up has been rather clean and painless.
i also got something else out of that blog post.
i got asked out.
“Leo,” the gent who ran the after-hours we went to was apparently directed to read my blog by “Gus,” and emailed me, wondering if i’d like to hang and stuff.
no one will answer your prayers until you take off that dress
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One by one, participants are asked to spell a word. If they get it right, they sit down. If they get it wrong, they must striptease A THIRD of their clothing off.
The winner of the Bee takes home $50!
Best striptease will also take home $50!
This is a queer, senior and trans-friendly event. We have a NO BOOING policy strictly in effect. No photos are allowed except by our Official Photographer. Our goal is to have everyone feel safe, secure and comfortable enough to strip and spell.
you sick piggies, hungry for smut!
my last blog post broke all my records for the most hits in a less-than-24-hour period.
i posted that around 5-something-PM. by day’s closing, 11:59PM, the traffic for that ONE post hit 600 unique hits.
i stopped counting after 24 hours (it’s doubled, last i checked), but i was floored how many of you enjoy a good gossip-clusterfuck-shitstorm loaded with multiple sarcasms, even though you don’t know personally who i’m shit-talking!
awwwww. bless.
my problem, i told him, was that even though he didn’t remember doing it, he STILL did it. so how was i supposed to express to him how hurtful that was if he was going to hide behind the banner of “i don’t remember?”
so we talked about why THIS time was different from other times he’s been drunk, and at first he was worried that since he behaved so outlandishly and didn’t remember a thing, and had no hangover the next morning, that maybe he might have a drinking problem. but upon further investigation into his whereabouts before the dinner and who he was with, now it seems, in all likelihood, that some bartenders in yorkville wanted to fuck with him. he suspects that he was roofied or something was slipped into his drink without his knowledge. all signs, the more we dig into this, are pointing to that. he’s corroborated his story with another gent who was with him earlier in the night who also had a similar (and horrifying) night. so really, if he was drugged, he has my sympathy.
after we hung up, he also sent me a very apologetic message on facebook, reiterating his remorse. he also said that he values me as a friend and hopes we’ll be able to maintain that.
actually, he’s since sent me a total of 4 FB messages apologizing and explaining things.
and let me tell you something, i highly respect that.
people make mistakes, people piss you off. shit happens. that’s life. but i am not the type of person to cut people out and write them off completely for one night’s debauchery and bullshit. i don’t like holding grudges, they just fester and rot inside you anyway. it takes a genuine person to not only feel remorse, but to admit when mistakes were made and even more to apologize for them. Colin proved himself to be an upstanding man, owning up to stuff, and taking responsibility. that is the mark of a good person, in my opinion.
so of course i accepted his extremely gracious and thoughtful apology. i told him we’re cool, and that i’ll be okay.
his next problem, however, was apologizing to “Gus” and to “Ruby.” he tried calling Gus but couldn’t get through (or Gus wasn’t picking up). either way, he wrote them messages with his apology, and finally got through to Gus a few days later. seeing as how Gus and Colin are best mates and have known each other for so long, i never once for a second believed this would cause a rift. even though i can’t say that i know Gus that well, every time i see him, he is always very pleasant and doesn’t seem to be a malicious, grudge-holding person. Gus also noted that he’s seen Colin wasted before and he’s never been such a disaster, which also lends to our belief he was drugged.
so even though a crisis wasn’t averted, the clean-up has been rather clean and painless.
i also got something else out of that blog post.
i got asked out.
“Leo,” the gent who ran the after-hours we went to was apparently directed to read my blog by “Gus,” and emailed me, wondering if i’d like to hang and stuff.
you are a trainwreck, you coked-up spacecadet
>you are a trainwreck, you coked-up spacecadet
>
