"Blogging isn't journalism, it's graffiti with punctuation."


Listen to my interview on CJAD 800 about my reality TV experiences

Today I was interviewed on Montreal’s CJAD 800 talk radio about my reality tv experiences. You can listen in full by clicking the soundcloud above or clicking here

This blog always gets a lot of traffic this time of year because one of the tv shows in which I was cast, First Dates, always premieres a new season around this time. And then this old blog post of mine suddenly is getting a bajillion hits.

After the clusterfuck of death and rape threats died down, and I left the UK for good, I wrote about my experiences for VICE, in a piece which went viral around the world. Seeing as how the producers of First Dates had a duty of care but failed to care for my well-being and best interests, writing this piece seemed to me the quickest way to get to the truth.

This piece regularly makes the rounds every year, and host Natasha Hall of CJAD read it and invited me on for a quick chat. It was a joy to speak to her, her and her producer were lovely and I would gladly go back on if/when invited

Fanks for listening to the interview and for the support, munchkins.

As always, don’t forget to visit the official Christine Estima dot com for more of my interviews on TV, radio, and print!

The Lovertine: Watch my TV interview on TFO!


Life is strange and unpredictable. You never know what’s coming for ya. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. A few months ago, you’ll remember I was interviewed and photographed for a Toronto Life feature , which itself was a lot of fun. Well, more people saw that interview than I bargained for.


I was contacted by the good folks over at TFO 24.7, the Franco-Ontarian TV station here in Canada.  They noticed that I speak French, and that many of my love letters are in French, and they asked if they could come over and film me for a Valentine’s Day segment.


They came over and interviewed me for 5 hours. The finished TV segment is less than 4 minutes, it’s a lot of work that goes into making a mere 4 minutes!  They filmed me in my bedroom here in Toronto, which I have decorated with the letters, old photographs, antique furniture and typewriters, and then they filmed me at an antique shop and a café.


I really like the way this came out. The music they use is super sweet and it makes my 9 x 15 bedroom look much larger than it actually is! I’m also a little embarrassed, just because this is my bedroom and I’m inviting all of you strangers into my tiny little corner of the world, but hey…. I WOULD DOOOOO ANYTHING FOR LOVVVVVVVE. Har har.



I think this is my favourite shot in the entire segment.




Anyway, watch the entire segment below! It’s in French, of course, but you will probably still get the gist of it even if you don’t speak French. Enjoy! Savourez-le!

Check out my interview + photo shoot in She Does The City

snippet of she does the city piece

Recently I was interviewed and photographed by She Does The City on the topic of Love & Loss. They selected people from across Toronto to speak about great love, great loss, and what happens when these two opposites collide. I really like what everyone had to say, and I think my section came out nicely. The peeps at She Does The City are super cool and awesome. Shout out to Jen and Becca.

she does the city words

You can read the entire piece here. Thanks for all the support munchkins, and hope you enjoy!


#FirstDates: That’s a wrap!

As I previously blogged, the second season of First Dates has come to an end, and the entire cast was on hand this past weekend to celebrate it in full-London style at Café de Paris in the heart of Piccadilly Circus. It was such a trip to have been cast in this television show. I found out recently that over 14,000 people applied to be on the show this year, and I was one of 50-some-odd people to make the final cast. That really is humbling. And also, a small source of pride:)

Here are some photos of me bonding with the rest of the cast from the omni-shambolic clusterfuck that was the all-night Wrap Party! In the above photo, it’s me and my harem of bearded men. Jonathan, Ralph, my date Paul, and Steve. I’m sure all of you have already seen my episode (the premiere episode, of course!), but if you want to see the rest of the series starring these lovely lads, be sure to watch them on 4oD!

Me and date Paul. You see, people? Despite what some audiences thought when they watched our date, Paul and I actually got on like gang-busters. We are great mates and we have nothing but love and high-fives for each other. I’m not gonna lie, throughout the wrap party, there may or may not have been some crotch-grabbing on our parts. YOU HEARD ME.

Of course, it wouldn’t have been a party unless Paul and Steve rubbed their beards ALL UP IN MY GRILL.

Here’s Mo (who was also in the premiere episode with me) and Corinne, who was featured in 3 episodes and, memorably, was reduced to tears by the infamous Rajan. Mo is such a great guy, we had such a great time getting to know each other at the party. We’re both Middle Eastern so having this experience was important to us, to show that not all Arabs are terrorists! We can be LUVAS too, ya know. As for Corinne, there was a bit of drama at the party, which I won’t get into here, so that’s probably why in this and the below photo, she’s pulling quite odd and awkward faces.

Uh…. yeah.

Back to the party! There’s Chloe, who also was featured in the premiere episode with me. Remember her dog Bentley? Aw bless. The doggie stole the show.

And there’s Saniya. Who could ever forget her hilarious comment about Mo and, uh, spaghetti. I’m still not sure I understand it.

SNOGGING STEVE. My life is complete.

Sarah Jayne, as you’ll remember from the First Dates commercial, was looking for her Prince Charming. Jonathan, the Alan Carr doppleganger, was on the hunt for a more ‘seasoned’ lady. They were such fun at the party 🙂

And that’s a wrap, people! Thank you for watching and for your support! It was quite  an unforgettable experience, and it reminded me that life is always full of surprises, as long as you keep allowing them in. There is never, ever, any excuse in this life to be bored. This chapter is closed. Onto the next!

And let me tell you, from what I’ve got planned, the next chapter in my life is going to be something else.

Just you wait.

Come to the #FirstDates wrap party on 12 April at Café de Paris

First Dates

So remember when I did that lil’ documentary series called First Dates? It aired last month, and the series is still on the airwaves until April. Well, once the show goes off the air, there will be Wrap Party here in London and you are invited. It will be at Café de Paris (between Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square) on 12 April, and all the info you need to get on the list and into the par-tay is on the above poster. Most of the cast (including this wee Canadian lass) will be there, so join us in toasting our horrible, horrible flirting skills.

You’ll get to see more of my winning facial expressions like this:

… and this!

(in all honesty, this above facial expression is how i feel about dating in general, hahaha!)

…and this!

There will be laughter…

…and glances…

…and if not, you’ll be at home on your laptop, wishing you join in on the par-tay.

You can get a taste of my horrible flirts in the commercial for the show, below. So come on down, London, and watch me buy things myself. See ya on the 12th.



BIG NEWS: Watch me in an episode of Channel 4’s #FirstDates !

I’ve been sitting on this news since OCTOBER you guys. I’ve hinted at it in the past, but couldn’t say a word until now. I was selected to appear in an episode of Channel 4’s documentary series First Dates, a fly-on-the-wall documentary show about singletons going on first dates in London. They’ve featured me in the commercial advertising the show, which you can watch above.

My episode, where I went on a lovely date with Paul, will air this Wednesday, February 12th at 10pm on Channel 4 in the UK and Ireland. After, it will be available to watch online on 4oD. I’m afraid it won’t be broadcast internationally, nor is 4oD available internationally, so unless someone uploads a torrent of this, you won’t be able to watch it unless you live in the UK or Ireland. But hopefully a bunch of my British munchkins will watch and enjoy and share!

EDIT: They’ve also uploaded my “dating profile” to the First Dates website, check me out here!


Since the commercial started airing, I’ve been inundated with messages from people asking, “Did I just see you in a commercial for First Dates on Channel 4?!”

Haha! It’s nice to know that even though I have 2 seconds of air-time in this commercial, I’m instantly recognizable . . . The Canadian accent must be the give-away.


I’m really excited about this because I feel like I’m starting 2014 off right. First, I am invited to lecture at an academic conference, then I am invited to do a spoken word performance at Spark London (which you can listen to here on their podcast, I’m the first performer on it!) and now I’m featured on a brilliant documentary series about love.

That’s what I love about life: it is always exquisitely unpredictable, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

There are no rules to this thing, go out there and live your life, make it your own, fill it with adventure and extraordinary experiences until it’s bursting at the seams, and never look back.

Onward and upward!


Getting the vandalism I deserve

Brighton Rock

Love Always



my beautiful lars

lars walk

all smiles

the ghost

Brighton pier

bed hopping

shut up and kiss me


A Lovers’ Scavenger Hunt

one sunshiney day in Trinity Bellwoods Park in downtown Toronto, an irish couple that had been together for three years were deeply in love and prone to romantic gestures worthy of a ralph fiennes movie. kelsie, whose heart was inextricably linked to callum, come ruin or rapture, decided to send her ginger-haired lover on a scavenger hunt throughout the park.

as he followed balloons, notes, photos, and scientific formulas that described the tapestry of their love, he knew that soon he would be in possession of a bottle of bubbly, a pain au chocolat, and the key-owner to his heart.

just another one of those wonderful things you can stumble upon in your city …. if you’re paying attention.


The Love A Heart event was a massive success! As I blogged about before, I was asked by the wonder-woman event organizer if I’d like to be auctioned off on a date to the highest bidder, with all the money going to the Heart & Stroke Foundation. Naturally I said yes, but as the event approached, I slowly began to pass a kidney stone of sheer terror. It’s petrifying asking a crowd of 500-plus people to put a dollar value on your debatable-hotness! Bussey had blogged a few weeks ago that I would, in all likelihood, sell for $170 which I thought was extremely generous.

So how much did I sell for?


If I had been wearing underwear that night, they would have needed changing. (Undies are for quitters).

And who was my top bidder?

Dis guy.

Although technically he shares me with my wifey, but that goes without saying.

Now please enjoy this photogasm which accurately depicts the depravity and kickassery of the night.

No comment.

me, ashley, and sofi shall henceforth be known as the “boob troop.”

shannon and i have devil eyes!

was nice to see george again. we had a quick catch-up. he sold for $800, which i assumed would have been the top bid of the night. out of nowhere, ryan-gosling-esque Kerry pulls a $1025!! bless his heart, he then matched the bid.

if only all the hosers we knew in highschool back in scarbage could see us now

OMG IS THAT LEN?!! that’s what i was thinking the entire night, dude never comes out! it takes a lot to get him excited about events. he was also my saviour, basically talking me off a ledge for the past two weeks. i was genuinely shitting myself for this event, but he was coo’ing in my BBM ear to just have a laugh and remember it’s for charity (with extra shits n’ giggles). totally worked!

although after i got off stage, my adrenaline suddenly drained, and vicki needed to haul me outside for a quick breather, as i had a wee lil’ panic attack.

did i mention i stayed in a hotel that night? look at me, i’m adult-y.

view of the ROM. years and years ago, i worked as a tour guide on those hop-on-hop-off double decker buses for tourists, and when we’d drive by the ROM (which was still under reconstruction at the time), i used to say this joke to squeeze more tips outta the gullible americans:

and now we’re going by the Royal Ontario Museum, or the ROM as we like to call it. now as you can see, it’s still under reconstruction, but as you all know… ROM wasn’t built in a day.”

wocka wocka wocka.

i also once worked at the Royal Conservatory of Music….. for one day. i quit that job by the stroke of 5pm.

they were filming some movie or tv show at Varsity Stadium. probably one of those crap canadian tv shows like Being Erica or Flashpoint. (ps sorry to all my actor/director/writer friends who are employed on said-shows. i wuv yoos guise).

annnnnd…. scene.

your heart’s a mess, you won’t admit to it

The #LoveAHeart Auction Heats Up

As many of you know, I’m going to be auctioned off to highest Valentine-y bidder at the Love A Heart charity event on February 9th. I blogged all the details last week.

Local rabble rouser and loveable shit disturber Zach Bussey (the infamous charlatan behind Ontario’s Sexiest Election Candidate campaign) has given a run-down of all the ladies on the auction block, how much you can expect to pay, and what you’ll get for your money.

Here’s what he had to say about yours-truly:

Christine Estima
Everybody knows Christine. Show us your tweets Christine! (If you follow her, you’ll get that.) Christine is great company who always makes me laugh, and I’m like Stalin (or maybe Teller.. whichever one laughs less?) She also can spot graffiti from a mile away and keeps getting recognition for it *cough Toronto Star*.
I expect a conglomerate of buyers to pitch in and grab Christine for no less than

That’s awfully kind and generous of him to say. Bussey was actually the very first person I ever met from Twitter IRL (he lent me a flip cam!) so he’s always gonna be one of mah boyeeez. He’s always polarizing and mouthy (remind you of anyone you know?), and had some choice words for some of the other ladies on the auction block, so read what he has to say, as a past-participant and current supporter.

Hope to see you all there! Let’s be Valentines!

Get your Heart-On at #LoveAHeart

Fellas, now is your chance to date me! ………………..



I’m being auctioned off for charity!…………………

Jeez, tough crowd.

Well anyway, click on the above image to get details on the Love A Heart event, where the hottest bachelors and bachelorettes in Toronto (and, uh, me) will be auctioned off to raise funds for the Heart & Stroke Foundation.

It takes place on February 9th and The Hideout (484 Queen Street West), doors at 8pm, cover is $5.

If you’re not interested in being dis gal’s Valentine, there are lots of other beauties on the auction block (I know almost all the gals, they’re pretty saucey). As for you ladies out there looking to buy a man-whore, I know almost all the guys being auctioned as well, and they are SEXY MO-FO’S! There’s even two professional athletes on the auction block, one from Toronto Rock (that’s our pro lacrosse team) and another from the Toronto Argonauts (pro football team, CFL)!

To top it off, there’ll be a live performance by Indie Music Week champions Tiny Danza.

It’s going to be a really fun night, even if you don’t want to bid, you can at least come say hi and introduce yourself! We’ll clink glasses and talk about graff!

And you’ll get to watch me sell-out for a fiver.


Freddie Mercury: the legend

i found this stencil of freddie mercury on queen street west not far from muchmusic.

it says “i won’t be a rock star. i will be a legend.” that’s mercury alright!

there’s no artist name next to it, and that QR code didn’t work (at least on my phone).

i feel like this stencil is missing something . . .

 . . . something to make it more bad-ass and give it a little hellyeahfuckyeah.

much better.

Just In Time

 the horseshoe moustache is thankfully gone now (this photo of us was taken during Movember), so at least  my chin can take a break this weekend.

Enjoy your weekend (and all the rug-burns that comes with it), munchkins!

Just Lucky I Guess

Click the above image to read the latest column by SexyTypewriter (who happens to be one of my besties!) in The Toronto Sun. She gives me a wee shout-out in the middle of it.

“My friend Christine has a can’t-miss retort. When asked why she’s still single, she sweetly responds with, “Just lucky, I guess.”



in polynesian culture, wearing a flower over your left ear indicates marital commitment. over your right ear indicates availability.

or is it the other way around?

we spies. we slow hands. killer for hire, you know not yourself

in the middle of the night, i am the girl biking in and out of toronto alleyways. my basket carries music, sending the raccoons scurrying behind wheelie bins and the cats under mufflers. the pavement echoes the grind of my chain and my voice, cooing. i look up to the sky, which is gauzed behind the strobe of tree tops and aching branches.

my thighs burn acid, and i need to go alkaline without the alchemy.

my body is in a constant state of  metallurgy.

since my above The Grid article came out, it’s been the top story on their website, see:

if you haven’t checked it out yet, do it now.

fitting that as soon as my Rob Ford graffiti photos are published, Deadboy comes out with a new batch of Ford pieces that are so brilliant, it’s as if stephen hawking, a messiah, and gandalf made a spawn.

Deadboy, you are made of perfect jesus wizard sauce.

seriously, he is making some of the most thought-provoking street art in toronto.

he let me know the locations of his new work: Rob Ford and Doug Ford aka Tweedledee & Tweedledum:

an alleyway near Ossington and Humbert.

Queen Street West and Claremont

“Graffiti isn’t the problem. It’s society not knowing what to do with artists . . . Oh look, there’s a rose. LET’S PAVE OVER IT.”

-Ron English

Chinatown/Kensington Market

i have some exciting news to announce (and more which i cannot announce just yet, as it’s still in the works… suffice it to say, September is going to be an exciting month).

the first is that Ford Canada is lending me car for labour day weekend.

yes, you read that right.

sometimes having a social media presence has untold perks, which has slowly begun to reveal itself to me.

they approached me with the offer, and we’ve been ironing out the details for a while. so what am i going to do with a luxurious hybrid from september 1-6th?

i’m driving to montreal.

i haven’t been back to la belle province, the place of my birth, since 2005, so i am long overdue.

and you will witness the rediscovery of my hometown, as i will be blogging, vlogging, and tweeting the snot outta this trip!

thanks Ford Canada and the good peeps at National (hi matt!). we fit together like the ignition and the key.

vroom vroom.

i always thought “Adam’s Apple” was a strange name.

eve gave adam a forbidden fruit, he swallowed it, and desire caused their expulsion.

now, men must forever carry lust in their throats.

and isn’t it just so apropos that women, naturally, are rather good at bobbing for apples.

a conversation i overheard this week:

Gal #1: “I’m from the south, flirting is part of my heritage!”

Gal #2: “What does that mean?”

Gal #3: “It means her mother was a slut too.”

my past few posts have detailed the good bike project here in toronto, and here are more finds to add to the growing list of fluorescent cycles peppering the city, adding flavour.

this albany find was particularly important to me.

if you don’t know, jane jacobs was a local activist & urban planner who singlehandedly prevented the spadina expressway from ruining toronto-the-good. without her intervention, the city would have erected that gaudy monstrosity, destroying homes, communities, urban flow, cultural contentment….and even this blog.

odd that the albany-jane-jacobs bike wasn’t placed on spadina….

i see this “TOKYO!” tag all over the city, although many of their occurrences have been painted over or blasted off since the spring.

as Rob and i spent a night pushing our dead-body bikes across Bloor street, we came across this virtually untouched tag.

i cannot pass this tag without humming this chorus. it’s like a tick.

…where the demons from my past leave me in peace.

this is better than “stop, hammertime.”

the first photo at the very top of this post was an outtake.  i’d heard a beautiful mural of a couple kissing was going up near Bloor and Bathurst, and snuck around the area at night to photograph it. My camera kept going out of focus right when the shutter clicked.

so i decided to make something out of the outtakes (creativity always affects something previously thought unusable. there are no lost causes).

hence, the photo at the very top.

and this one below.

can’t you see what you’ve done to my heart and soul? this is a wasteland now.

my next girl will be nothing like my ex girl; i made mistakes back then, i’ll never do it again

nicely done, deadboy

*  *  *


guess who just sold the above photo, along with many other of my Rob Ford graffiti photos, to The Grid! I love adding “photographer” to my growing portfolio. Check out the spread here, munckins!

*  *  *

sometimes i share the emails i get here, sometimes not, but this one came with the tacit authority to share, and it’s rather lovely, so why not.


My goodness! I’ve just spent the past three hours reading through your blog and I’m still not finished. Now I see you’re on Twitter, as well. Where do you find the time?

I “stumbled upon” your blog while browsing something totally unrelated (don’t know how Google always manage to do that) and I was so intrigued (yes, it was because of a photo of you) that I decided to peruse through it. Very entertaining, indeed. Informative at times… even inspiring (the bit about eating healthy). There’s so much material to cover that I doubt I will get to it all.
Portuguese and Lebanese, eh? I see it now. Beautiful combination. You kinda got that Nelly Furtado-Kim Kardashian thing going on, eh (Apologies if you can’t stand those two!).

Another thing from your blog which stood out in my mind is the part about how you would fill in the blank to end the sentence on the picture you saw at the hipster house party. I thought your response was brilliant. Deep with a dash of humour. I wonder how many people actually got it? I also made note of the part where you blogged about traveling to NYC because of a love interest but things didn’t go well and you were left crying on the steps of Union Square? I assume figuratively and not literally because, His loss, I assure you!

Anyway, it’s been fun reading. All the best to ya!

fanks mate. for the record, i didn’t travel to NYC last summer for the guy, but i’ve known him for years and he’s always good for givin’r, so he just factored in to the trip. he’s in a relationship right now, so when i went to NYC earlier this year, i didn’t bother contacting him. if i did, the response would be silence. but if i’m being honest, he was probably one of the greatest longstanding affairs i’ve ever had.

technically, that’s not saying much.

and fanks for the “his loss” bit . . . it’s not his loss just yet, but give me some time, and it will be.

Banksy’s latest, in response to the News Of The World phone hacking scandal.

last week, i collaged about “the good bike” project here in toronto, which has been getting so much attention not just around town, over the pond in the UK, the guardian has even taken notice of our Mayoral clusterfuck.

anyway, here’s another find. this is the first blue one i’ve found, it was on bloor near dovercourt. i want to find the green “jane jacobs” one, anyone know where that’s located? i know it’s on Albany, but where?

i still need a name for my new bike (since my old bike Bea Arthur was totaled by a raging syphilis-cyclist, i hope she dies of a rectum rash), but i’m leaning toward calling it Aunty Edna. old lady names for bikes=boom goes the dynamite.

this is the mural at luna cafe on dovercourt and argyle. i always ride Aunty Edna past this lovely converted grocers, and i adore how they have kept some of the grocer’s painted adverts on the window. gives it such a great feel. people who live in and around argyle street are so lucky. i want to live there, the area kiboshes the annex.

text messages from august 10th:

mr k: your mind shines as brightly as your eyes do.

me: how is it you always know just what to say?

mr k: i just kinda adore you so it’s natural… everything about you just feels so organic. you blow my mind.

at  the Ali Baba falafel place on bloor street with nate, a delightfully schizo’d woman heard me say that i was portuguese, so she came over and said that i was a beautiful portu-geezer, and proceeded to kiss my head about 16 or 17 times. i actually don’t think i processed what she was doing. i kind of tuned out, not even realizing it was awkward or weird. i let her kiss my hair, and stared at a point on the street outside the window.

it felt like everything and anything, except like what it was.

this photo was taken last year at the TedxTO afterparty, but i was only recently tagged in it on facebook. i don’t at all remember taking this shot, or frankly, who the dudes in it are. Reg, any clues?

i’m such a glad-hander.

i’ve blogged about fauxreel twice before, but this old piece of his from 2009 that went up in our fair city still gives me pause.

i was at a funeral once.  as is expected, it was a very sombre, melancholy event. it was a hot july day, and the church had left the windows open for ventilation. as family members came forward to give their speeches, a car outside on the street was blasting its crap music (as most low rider douchebags who drag The Danforth are known to do). unfortunately, it was this song. the fucking car was stopped at a really long red-light outside, and because all the church windows were open, the song invaded the ceremony. we were trying to have this respectful, reflexive, and downright sad experience to mourn the loss of life…

…and instead, we were paralyzed with a case of the giggles. everyone had their hands over their mouths, unsure of whether to choke back tears, or choke on our cackles.

horribly hilarious, i was uncontrollably laughing at a funeral.

that’s what going to Moth-Up the other day was like.

someone walked by me, pretending not to see me. But seeing as how i’m an adult, i made the courteous move to say hello. i had forgotten that we weren’t talking … and now i remember why.

in hindsight, i probably should have checked the FB event page to see who would be at Moth Up so i could have avoided it altogether, but i have completely given up stalking on FB. if people didn’t show up in my FB newsfeed, i’d never know what others are up to. i absotively posulutely refuse to look at anybody’s profile but my own. i have extended this ban from FB to twitter, and even some blogs. … mostly, because i couldn’t give a shit.

luckily, i was with someone worthy of my attention. we giggled like conspirators well into the night, actually leaving the event early for more one-on-one.

we bounded out the door, taking the steps two at a time, and disappeared into the velvet black of midnight…  i didn’t bother to take notice of what i left behind.

life is right in any case.

and my heart is open as the sky.

“your mind shines as brightly as your eyes do.”

can i make it better with the lights turned on?

...in paradise?

this video was made at Lindsey Kelk’s book launch, and they interviewed me (along with Val Stachurski and Erin Bury, among others) about dating.

vicki blogged about this, a tofu dish to beat out all other tofuckery attempts.

i guess The Toronto Star felt my tweeting was newsworthy.

this was the day i nearly passed out from dehydration. 38 degrees celsius in toronto, but with the humidex, it feels like 50 (reminding me of my time in india), and people still are keeping their babies and dogs locked up in the car. i sat on the benches outside of Hibiscus for an hour, trying to pull my shit together, and garner enough energy to stand. people walked by in fluorescent colours, and i was about to fall on my knees without the pleasure of praying.

i tweeted the above when i finally stood up, and wandered around trying to find a convenience store. i refuse to go to the one at the corner of augusta and college, because that schmuck behind the counter always eyes me up like i’m a five-finger-discounter, when all i want is a popsicle. so i wandered like a flaneur, until i found myself on ossington, sitting on the patio of iDeal coffee, looking at people ride by on their bicycles.

i nearly capsized.

my nose was stinging, my chin collapsing, but i didn’t cry.

*   *   *

you’ll remember a while back when i blogged about finding this beautiful piece of street art by deadboy, and because of that blog post, him and i kind of struck up a correspondence. well he recently let me know that some of his new work is up, and sent me on a scavenger hunt to find them…

deaboy’s clever raccoon is up in kensington market, go for a scour of the alleyways there, you’ll find his scrawlings, and some other vibrant work.

i think many people are afraid of venturing alone in alleyways. i’ve been doing it alone during the day and at night, and lately, i’m feeling safer in the alleys than out in the street. even the crooks and thieves are afraid of the alleys, no one runs behind the tall, shadowed walls anymore. except the artists.

this is very The Shadow-esque. who knows what evil lurks in the heart of men? hahaha, what a shit movie.

dude is swallowing what flows from the gas pump.

don’t we all.

see the bird above the tim hortons? i’ve seen that bird before, it was up near the bathurst street theatre during the fringe festival, but didn’t get a chance to photograph it. is it still there?

this reminds me of some graffiti that  i found in bosnia-herzegovina when i was there in 2008….in the city of mostar

sometimes toronto has the same amount of decay and destruction to it, and we haven’t even been in a war.

someone has copied shepard fairey’s Obey style

i’m working on it….

i’m not sure exactly from this stencil who this cigar smoking guy is supposed to be. i’m assuming he’s a politician or political figure of some sort.

whoever he is, the street artist behind him has sprayed him all over kensington market.

here he is again…

…and again!

hey street artist behind this stencil! contact me! i wanna hear about your work. let’s be friennnnnnnnnnnds. oh i see a heart underneath the stencil. gee, i wonder who that is….

this Busk guy with Groucho Marx’s face is everywhere. i photographed him once before, but he’s all over the city, if you know to keep your eyes up.

that’s the thing about street art: once you’ve trained yourself, as i have, to keep your eyes up instead of down at the sidewalk, you won’t be able to NOT notice them anymore. you’ll realize that it’s everywhere, and there’s always new spots, new corners, new walls, new lamp posts, new targets. i think it’s only a matter of time before i start stirring the wheatpaste in the pot, grab a long-handled broom, and beat the street sometime past 3am with subterfuge burning underneath the hood of my eyes.

i agree with this statement.

like rose tombstones.

it’s the syntax that lying.



i ran into someone the other evening in the distillery district which gave me reason to pause.

at first, i wasn’t sure that it was him. so i kept walking out the door into the brimstone temperatures of the bricks.

then i stopped, paused, turned around on my heel, and marched right back up to him in the air-conned lobby.

it had been months since i’d seen him, well before my spring NYClusterfuck. he had texted  me last month, but i froze up upon receiving it, not knowing how to respond, so i remained silent.

we chatted pleasantly like god was stuck in our throats. With the mutual circles we run in, it’s a safe wager that he could continually be within striking distance.

very tricky.

what a clever juxtaposition.

those fucking kids.

all i see is hope.

*   *   *

what urge will save us, now that sex won't?
maybe i have said something that was wrong.

don’t sit down ‘cos i’ve moved your chair

YOU STILL HAVE 3 DAYS to enter The Submarine Contest, sponsored by Alliance Films and The Spadina Monologues. Get a pass for you and a friend to attend the advanced screening of Submarine, and you could win a prize pack as well! clicky the poster for your chance to be a wiener winner.

* * *

i was invited to the Pepsi Throwback event in Toronto.

the weird thing about having a rising stock in the social media world is you get invited to so many events, it’s kinda redonkulous. i’ve always said that as a writer, were it not for twitter, i would have no social life. so i try to go out to as many events as possible. and i like the fact that after years of my crazy ramblings and musings, i have leveraged my online presence into something that provides a constant stream of super fun happy times at someone else’s dime. but at the same, i’m a bit of a jovial anarchist.

jovial in that, well, i’m a generally happy person with a penchant for the shits n’ giggles.

anarchist in that, well, i don’t believe in promoting brand-awareness, and my body is an advertisement-free zone. seriously. next time you see me, try and find a single brand on me.

i shop no-names exclusively, and if i do have a brand, i bought it second-hand for 50 cents.

but when you’re in social media, everybody is for sale, and brands want to buy you. everybody is willing to drink the brand kool-aid for the right price.

now, that’s not to say there’s something inherently wrong with that. everybody needs to eat, and if you can paid just on the popularity of your blog or twitter or tumblr or whatever, then more power to you.

but i think too many people follow the formula of CONSUME. STAY QUIET. DIE.

stop buying. start living.

regina won the best dressed female costume competition, and it was well deserved. hottie pulled a Filipino madonna, and she got game.

here’s reg and i dancing at the event. she is a normal dancer. i am a fembot.

raymi says, “me and christine. how far do we go back? since before twitter, her name is synonymous with spadina monologues i think she trickled in around the MG days? did you know christine also made her way onto a reality show on a tropical island to boss around men and it was broadcast in the uk or something? huge. ask her about it. maybe that’s why she does that british accent voice? (stop doing that sorry ilu but be you) anyway i love this broad and am proud she’s a lifer like me, it’s good to see her face in the scene.”

i swear if i do a brit accent, i’m not aware. SWEARSIES. i love you luh-ren THIS MUCH. raymbo gives me a grizzle in my vizzle tizzle fo’shizzle.

playing air-guitar-leg. i am so attractive. oh hai katie!

rannie takes the greatest photos. i look so happy and my hair is the stuff of Pantene commercials. i’m doing the running man here. either that, or the roger rabbit.  should i make this my FB profile photo? you tells me.

scott’s arms go on and on and on. like, if this photo’s proportions are to believed, scott must tuck his hands into his socks.

there’s nothing about sheldon that isn’t made of wizard juice.

photographers at this place weren’t on their game, they needed to sort their tech shit out, so i handed mr levy my blackberry and we busted out these hot shots, our hands were in inappropriate places, it was some sweet action.

some of the coolest people i know. raymi luh-ren, shawn, plankin-casie, scott, and my husband sheldon.

dan easily had the best 80s costume. he looks like van halen and miami vice just exploded all over him.

keshia chanté and madame stewart, cindy loo hoo?

i dunno what it is about scott, but his pepsi throwbacks bring all the boys to the yard.

i look awkwardly attractive here. most people know me as the gal with the curves, but here i look like my hips have teenaged-boy’d-out. wassup? where’s my crescent moon hips?  not even a hint of a bosom! my breasteses are big. pinky swear.

i really like kelly and i really like this photo. her and i were rocking the onesie and we’re giving each other a solid. her boyfriend mark took this photo, and from this photo’s POV, you get a sense of just how fricken tall he is!

he doesn’t like to be blogged about. but how can i not post a photo of that face?

you guys see this? it’s called being one smooth mother fucker.

*  *  *

for the past couple of weeks, i’ve been riding on the back of an electric scooter on the weekends, and have whizzed past this above awesome mural that’s on an underpass near the junction.

that is, until this happened

literally kicking myself that i didn’t take the opportunity to photograph it (like i always do) when i had the chance. i loved this mural. LOVED IT.

check out the artist’s website and show him some support.

some street art and graffiti that i’ve managed to photograph lately, more to come!

it’s that time of year again when i get to house-sit!
last year i house-sat 4 times, this year so far i’ve done it twice, and now a third on the horizon.

will be downtown with a couple of putty-tats in little italy, just a bike ride away from work and the people who make me feel special about a little guy i like to call ME.

the lovely june weather makes me feel like my body is a boat, and you are traveling in me.

you try to fake it but you’re breaking every rule; right from the start you always made me feel a fool

A scorpion, when trapped in a fire, will sting itself.

But what do I do when trapped in the fire of my mind?


step-by-step fun with photo editing software starring christine louise estima as herself.

step 1: i take this photo.

step 2: i amplify and enhance this photo.

step 3: i put my quote on this photo.

step 4: you steal this photo.

sacha saw me on the subway. i only realized it was him later.

as he left, i grabbed my bag and chased after him with a lashing of apologies.

sometimes i am a dead girl.

Starving Artist vegan-gluten-free mini waffle brunch on May Two-Four long weekend when fireworks exploded the night sky… either that or the neighbours were pipe-bombing each other. this is the suburbs, so that’s a real possibility.


we found a ghetto scooter shop. the sales guy may or may not have wake n’ baked. his crooked teeth poked out of his gums like dead worms in a red delicious.


i climbed on the back of the plastic vespa and exposed myself in a jean skirt. this is what’s between my legs.


kensington market ate our rubber, and coppers on foot couldn’t force helmets. we traveled to the edge of Bloor where pastures eat dilapidated buildings like locusts. we sucked on cherry popsicles until our mouths were too icey pink to eat.

MOCA Banksy

oh Banksy, you really have lost the plot.

deadboy says to me via email:

‘This is only the beginning; I have much up my sleeve for this city!
(Insert crazy laughter here..lol)”

here are the details of his show, i will be there, and so should you!

 Wunderland Gallery/espresso bar

OPENING NIGHT RECEPTION JUNE 3rd 2011 at 7pm – 11pm
SHOW RUNS: JUNE 3rd – 30th 2011

beating of a million drums, the fire of a million guns, mother of a million sons: civilization

this week was Bike-To-Work Week, and as someone who regularly has bikegasms and cylejaculations, i was writing a bajillion essays and articles about it, many of which caused a serious amount of controversy.

the first was an essay i wrote about why i don’t wear bike helmets, even though i am afraid of being hurt in an accident, and it caused a bit of a clusterfuck (look at the comments!)

the second was an interview with james schwartz, who blogs at The Urban Country, who says that bike helmets actually scare people away from cycling altogether. he says he won’t wear a helmet until motorists and pedestrians do too. he was brilliant to interview, and if you look at the comments section, it really does raise some people’s ire.


my friend zach has posted the top 150 twitter influencers in toronto (according to Klout), and guess which lil lass made the top 150!

klout has never been immune to controversy, their ways of scoring influence, communication, interaction, and engagement are very arbitrary, and many people feel like they should be on that list, or higher in the ranks. the last time i checked my klout, maybe six months ago, it was much higher, like 64 or 65, but your score fluctuates with interaction. i think it’s pretty cool that in the 2+ years i’ve been on twitter, i’ve managed to leverage my crazy-ass-rantings into something that people actually pay attention to and read and want to follow. it’s pretty fun. but it’s also not something to put too much stock into. the argument that these klout scores create elitism and “stars” amongst a democratic platform like twitter is justified and has merit.

that being said, i’m kinda chuffed to have made the cut. brag brag brag, sorry (not sorry) i promise i won’t let this go to my head (not a guarantee).

when i posted this news on my facebook, i said ” I don’t know how much stock I should put into this, but this is pretty shits n’ giggles:)

then some asshole who i know peripherally decided to assert his holier-than-thou pedantic musings of my perceived hype-believin’. it’s fucking incredible how people go out of their way to make you feel inferior. here’s the exchange:

like seriously, what was the point of putting that remark on my wall? if you want to just sweep in and shit all over people’s parades, why don’t you find a bunch of emo hipsters with neurotic insecurities to shark-attack, because…


for all his “i’m not snarky” protestations, his facebook status said otherwise, which read “shut the fuck up about your Top 150 klout”. but what really made me laugh was what a fucking hypocrite he was-  if you look at the comments on Zach’s original post, that same egomaniacal prima-donna who can only gain satisfaction from pointing out the shortcomings of others, was WHINING that he wasn’t included in the Top 150! i shit you not.

call me crazy, but not only does he have a chip on his shoulder, he wants to make sure other people feel shit about themselves for their recognition (albeit small & centralized recognition).

such a shame, ‘cos every time i had met with this guy in real life, he was totally cool, and seemed rather humble. once again, the internet allows for people’s true assholedom to emerge.

i went to Hip Hop Karaoke on friday, my first time there ever, although it’s a toronto institution. i can’t call myself a hip hop connoisseur, but luckily, it seemed like the crowd (save a few) had only a popular knowledge of hip hop, rather than an actual underground organic appreciation of it. no one sang any songs by artists i hadn’t heard before. and despite what 8-mile might tell you, the crowd was a varied demographic.

phil and i had been practicing our song for two weeks. TWO WEEKS PEOPLE, i was listening to it on a loop every morning while i dressed for work, on the commute, before i went to bed. i wanted to get this shit down. if you’re interested, this was the song we did. i did macy’s part (obvs), and phil did mos-def. that’s a lot of lyrics to learn.

the previous evening, phil and i had gone to a park and sang the song while people walked their dogs or ate on park benches.  the evening had long fallen into the velvet-black of night, and we were still getting our tongues tied in the nooks and corners of it. some things came easy, other aspects were tentative and a bit slippery (am i still talking about the song?)

anyway, we went on around 1:30am when it was mostly the true hip hop fans left. stage-performance awareness set in, and we KILLED IT. we fucking murdered that song! last name WIN, first name EPIC! all the notes and lyrics and timing that we had fumbled over before just somehow stepped in line.

diggs, who recorded it all on video for us, told me the next day that he was really impressed with my performance. he said something along the lines of “i’ve seen a lot of people go up there, and i work in music so i know talent, and you were phenomenal” which of course made me feel super chuffed with myself (even though repeating it here makes me seem self-absorbed, which i refuse to admit to, although i seem to have no problem admitting it to you people).

frankly, i was more excited for phil. when we rehearsed, he had some timing problems and missed a few cues, but once we performed it on stage, he OWNED that shit. he was confident, he was enjoying it, he let go, and his performance was inspired. it was totally hot to watch.

when we finished the song, i started jumping up and down, giddy as a school girl,  and we smashed into a hug.

hip hop karaoke, people.

you don’t know what you’re missing!

aw. bless.

the next day, we cycled the humber valley bike path, which i’d never done before. i was so used to the don valley river path, or the lakeshore path, it never occurred to me to check this one out. it’s pretty amazing. some parts are paved, other parts are pretty rough-hewn and dilapidated, but the scenery along the river is like something out of a henry david thoreau poem. the sun burned like brimstone on our backs, forcing popsicle breaks.

sweat burned my lips into a smile.

when you’re having a punch-drunk time, other people from your past can sense it. earlier this week, a person i had barely dated  text messaged me. when we were hanging a few months ago, he was sweet, warm, and most importantly, unpretentious. he took me out for my birthday, which was lovely.

that was followed by two weeks of radio silence. so i figured, okay, he’s gone off me for whatever reason, good thing it ended before anyone’s feelings got hurt.

then out of the blue, he texted me, gushing with compliments, and an invitation for another lunch date.

i was confused, but i agreed, figuring maybe the dude was just busy or not attuned to proper etiquette following a kiss (although, considering he’s 41 years old, he should know better).

so he takes me out for lunch again, and it’s all lovely and what not. but then at the end of the lunch, he says that classic guy cop-out.

“I just don’t have the time to give you the attention you deserve.”


ya, ‘cos i can’t read between those lines.

dude basically made it crystal clear that he wasn’t interested in dating me or anything further than that. so i wrote him off AGAIN.

Iwent on my NYC extravaganza, came back to begin work at my new position….and that was all two and a half months ago. i haven’t even given him a second thought since i wrote him off, because there was no point. that was a dead end.

on facebook, i noticed that he’s remounting his one-man cabaret again in a couple weeks.

and then this week, out of the blue, i get this text from him , “hey gorgeous lady! how the eff are ya? R u around? wanna have lunch next week?


 am i allowed to roll over and thank my lucky stars now?! you’re not sending me mixed messages at all, i don’t find your behaviour confusing, and i don’t think you’re jerking me around either exclamation point.

forget the 10 weeks of radio silence, and the blatant i-don’t-want-to-date-you  sugar-coating. i don’t have a life, or a job, or other men interested in me at all. watch how fast i drop everything just to be in your good graces again. oh, and let’s not forget that your show is just a few weeks away….i mean, i don’t assume AT ALL that you’re merely contacting me so i’ll either blog or tweet about your show, and try to get more bums in seats. oh no! thought  never crossed my mind at all.

you had your chance. NO THANKS.

to quote amy winehouse, what kind of fuckery is this?

i found another sheppard fairey! this one is a different version of his andre the giant obey sticker, but i saw this one many times on the streets of alphabet city whilst in NYC, so i know it’s his. WIN.

last week i blogged about this deadboy poster i found on queen street near augusta. this morning i wake up to this email:

“Hello Christine, deadboy here…
Thank you for the very kind words about my work on Queen St. West! You understood exactly what I was trying to get across… And in answer to your questions, Yes and yes… But I won’t bore you with details. Love your blog!

I’m having my first solo show that runs from June 3-30.. I can send you more info if your interested.

Hope this letter finds you well…
Warm regards,

(still working on this site…)”


check out his site people, the dude is wicked talented. when i get more info about his solo show, my munchkin readers will be the first to know.

also included in last week’s blog post was my discovery of a series of Mayor Rob “Fordzilla” Ford wheatpaste’s around town. the first one i found had the fat-godzilla mayor eating a streetcar (in reference to our mayor trying to destroy our sustainable public transit). the next one had him eating a spraypaint can (in reference to his war on street art and graffiti). earlier this week, i was walking through kensington market, and what do i find?

Fordzilla is eating a bike, in reference to his hatred of cyclists, and his assertion that if you’re a cyclist and you get hit by a car, it’s your own damn fault. i love how someone wrote on this Fordzilla “300 lbs of fun!!” because seriously, if rob ford actually got his morbidly obese ass on a bike once in a while, maybe he wouldn’t be a stones-throw from death. i can’t believe this fat, leotarded, mentally-stunted fucktard is our mayor. someone else drew in his hand the CN Tower. maybe the next Fordzilla wheatpaste i find will have him eating our tower as well?

FORDZILLA artist dude, you are my new hero. SERIOUSLY, i said this last week, but you need to contact me, you are fricken brilliant. let’s be friends!

don’t mind if i do.

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.


my mother is pretty dangerous, it’s true, she is a broken down construction site near baldwin village as well.


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.