yeah we’re red inside, we’re all red inside, and the leg bone’s connected to the one in the thigh
allegra says i should give tutorials on how to do my hair or something.
pumpkin, i’ve got two words for you that’ll change your life:
oh yeah, and be portuguese/lebanese. we’re known for our hair, us euro-arab mix-ups.
look at that bicep popping out to say DON’T TOUCH MY JUNK
aannnnnnd we’re out the door.
so you guys know i’ve been invited to these exclusive smirnoff parties since the summer (big ups to aly robb and highroad communications for hookin’ a sistah up, and for giving me line-bypass. didn’t even wait in the VIP line, just blew by everyone. felt chuffed) and they’ve always been hype, but i think this Smirnoff Crate Exchange with India was by far the biggest production they’ve put on. with reg as my arm candy, we stepped-inside-the-party-disrupt-the-whole-scene-when-it-comes-to-beats-well-imma-fiend-i-like-my-sugar-with-coffee-and-cream the entire night.
i was in india last year (read about my dramatic adventures here) so i was pretty much used to all the indian glitz and splendour laid out for the event, and they were spot on with the recreation.
200 rupees as drink tickets. that’s like maybe $1.50 for smirnoff. a steal.
i saw this guy getting interviewed on camera. smirnoff always films their events to make commercials. i didn’t know who this guy was but he was hot. later i saw him in the crate logging onto facebook and took a peek at his name “dan freeman.” YO DAN FREEMAN. call me. fer realz.
they gave us finger cymbals! i kept mine on for about 5 minutes. fucking hell couldn’t open my purse, take photos, get money, shake hands, put earplugs in, hold a drink, or feel my fingertips. good fun happy times.
see how he smoulders just for me?
the crew. reg and i tried to un-coordinate our dresses before the party. both one shoulder tarzan style, both cut above the knee. but we both wouldn’t budge on changing outfits, so we went as twins kinda. fellas love the twosome.
jess isn’t impressed by my finger cymbals practicing
masks so you can’t point us out in a lineup after we grope you
if jason is a jerk, i guess that makes me soda, and reg chicken. (get it?)
again with the smoulder, dude. look if you give me your number, i’ll try to get back to you in my busy schedule, alright? gosh, such an inconvenience.
VEGETARIAN FTW!! better than those stupid hot dogs they handed out at the last smirnoff party.
what is a hot dog ANYWAY?
if you think about it….it’s bread giving a dead cow a cuddle.
nat and i did CBC stuff together during TIFF but this is the first time we’ve finally met. she does a show with marie. nat and marie show. watch it.
when casie laughs the whole world laughs with her
jazzy first said she looked ‘slob’-esque and then proceeded to lose her spectacles for 15 minutes, we went bonkers for her.
mark, meet chris.
really smirnoff should be applauded for all their hard work, this was a global party, so the scale was massive. each country filled a crate with suggestions on the best of their local nightlife and then on this particular saturday, each country swapped crates. 14 cities did it – buenos aires, dublin, warsaw, caracas, miami, london, bangkok, beirut, sydney, sao paulo, mumbai, toronto, berlin, and cape town
mark and jon too school for cool
raymi is so fricken hilarious, she instantly pulled this pose without hesitation, a tribute to movember from the intrinsically-hairless
and now she’s like the flying buttress on the front of the yacht. casie eats lauren. lauren trumps hair-bow.
IT’S DRAGONETTE, dude show martina some fucking respect, she’s pint sized.
when i set a fire to your new shoes, if you should smile, look so surprised
oh cherry cherry, i read your fortune. it says that you’re too serious and such.
rock-hard fist-bumps to Smirnoff Canada for being internationally-known-to-rock-the-microphone. do it again next year, we’ll be givin’r! hopefully withholding the GTL.
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can’t let a blog post go by without reminding you of one small thing:
remember each time you vote, it activates the vibrating donut i’ve placed in my pants.