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

events

#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.

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The Best of Spark London

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As I mentioned previously, I’ve been asked by the lovely munchkins at Spark London to tell more stories from my fucktard life at this curated event of true stories stranger than fiction.

This Monday, February 3rd! It starts at 7:30 and tickets are a mere £6.50.
Directions to the Canal Cafe Theatre can be found here
Info on Spark London can be found here.

And donations to cure my trembling nerves can be sent via PayPal. Ack!

I can use all of this as research fodder for my academic lecture this summer, right?


Calling all Feminists!

I decided to perform another spoken word piece at Spark London tonight. The theme was “fame” so I thought I’d speak about a lil’ reality TV show I once was cast in. Enjoy!

You might remember the last time I did a spoken word piece: that was much more sombre and solemn. This is more upbeat, if a tad on the “how pathetic, but I can laugh at myself” side.

Lots of people came up to me afterwards to say how much they enjoyed my piece, and then the organizers of a curated spoken word event, also run by Spark London, invited me to speak at their next event! Which is so kind of them. Yay!

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In addition, I have more good news to report! I have been invited to lecture at the 5th Global Conference on Storytelling, to be held in May in Lisbon, Portugal! This is really exciting because almost all of the other lecturers invited to this event are affiliated with a university (Professors or PhD researchers). I am unaffiliated, I’m just a gal who wrote an academic paper that the organizers enjoyed. So if any of you little munchkins are planning on being in Lisbon (and you should, Lisbon in the month of May is quite delightful), please do come and watch me flex my academic vernacular as far as it can stretch.

I’m debating whether I should fly to Lisbon, or just take the train . . . or . . . ACADEMIC ROAD TRIP!

So many projects are in the works . . . fellowships, funding, publications, and some top-secret stuff that I really want to share with all of you but I’m sworn to secrecy! Can’t wait for these projects to come to fruition and I can finally talk about them! But, in the meantime, I send you fanks for all the support, my delicious munchkins.

Life is unfolding the way it should. It’s a my-future’s-so-bright-I-gotta-wear-shades type dealie. You better stand back, cuz the woman I’m going to be is something fierce.


Happy New Year

The wonderful people over at FUSAC treated me to the best New Years Eve gift I could have received: tickets to see The Artist Live in Concert at the Royal Albert Hall, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra! I had never been to the RAH and I have always dreamed of seeing the LSO perform live, ever since I was a second-chair Viola in my high school’s symphony orchestra, so this was a thrilling delight. I have already seen The Artist, so I didn’t pay too much attention to the film. I kept staring the the Cellos (celli?) and the xylophones and the tubas and the Double Basses …. I just love watching hands in vibrato in unison. Even the way they plucked pizzicato was glorious. Above is a super short clip of them warming up (no photos allowed during the performance, naturally).

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Royal Albert Hall is a huge concert venue, with several tiers, balconies, and ornate architecture, it was a feast for the eyes. Somehow, FUSAC got me seats in the 14th row on the mezzanine floor! Best seats in the house! I looked up how much tickets were, and was shocked at the prices. I love getting sweet cultural experiences for free!

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As the orchestra took a bow, the composer of the film, who was actually there, Ludovic Bource, joined the conductor Ernst Van Tiel for an encore. It was the most memorable New Years I’ve had in years.

So 2014, eh? In a few months, this blog will be nine years old. I’m tenacious, if nothing else.

I’m not one for Resolutions or for End-of-year lists or Best-of’s. I have a lot to reflect on, but so much more to come my way.

All I’ll contribute to the reflective dialogue of the changing of the calender year is this:

Say what you will about me, but in my life, I have had every opportunity to be boring, and I never took it.

May that continue in 2014.


Video: London Street Art 2013

If you’ve been wondering why I haven’t posted many street art photos lately (which usually is what this blog is all about), it’s because I’ve been fiendishly working on this street art short film! I started filming this way back in September and actually had more footage than I could use, so editing this has taken some time! In addition to having a lot of technical problems trying to edit this thinger, I’ve also been busy living! So many projects on the go, it’s hard to sit still!

Anyway, this short film features the works of Banksy, Roa, Invader, Phlegm, Stik, Mobstr, C215, Paul Don Smith, Curtis Kulig, JR and the Inside Out Project, James Cochrane (Jimmy C), Alo, Fred Le Chevalier, Shok 1, and many more! Enjoy!

Speaking of things I’ve been busy with, I was invited to climb atop the huge O2 arena with the Up at the O2 experience. Basically, they harness you up, and you spend about an hour climbing atop this huge concert and sporting venue which overlooks all of central London! But this was special, they invited me to a particular Christmas-y climb where there were ukulele carol-singers atop the O2, singing Christmas standards and serving mulled wine, mince pies, Christmas crackers, and fake snow!


Here’s me in my gear, looking fucking endearing.


They wouldn’t let us take photos as we were climbing for safety reasons. But once at the top, I got snap-happy. Check out the Uke-carol-ers!


We were pretty high up.


La ville des lumieres anglais.


There were many reporters there because what we were doing was pretty newsworthy.


And this was the climb back down. AHHHH. Heights.


It was on this day, the day of the climb, that my short story was published AND I received some wonderful news that I’m not at liberty to speak about now, but perhaps in the New Year I will. I’ve gone into a few meetings for this project, and I hope good things will come to fruition. When I know more, so will you!

In the meantime, enjoy this gorgeous Harvey Milk quote I typed up on my gorgeous typewriter.

It says,

Go after her. Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone, don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don’t let people happen to you, don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado.

“There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can’t just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do.

“Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really.”

 


Why I’m not in Germany anymore…

After my last post where I mentioned being homeless and a waif, I got quite a few private messages from you, my munchkins. It’s been about four months now, and I haven’t really talked about why I’m not in Germany anymore. In fact, most of my friends didn’t even know I had left until weeks (and for some, months) after the fact.

Truth be told, I couldn’t talk about it.

I figured the only kind of catharsis I could afford was to stand up in front of a bunch of strangers and tell my story. So I did that a few weeks ago at Spark London, a live storytelling event in London. All the stories are true and told without notes. So, the above video is my true story.

I posted this on Facebook the day after the event, and the outpouring of comments and private messages from people on there was so supportive and heartwarming to affirming. Here’s a cross section:

-”I just watched the video. Then wept.”

-”your video really moved me. i watched it three times and it made me cry. you are such a brave woman.”

-”I watched your video. it was artful and cathartic…you are honest, and blunt as hell. and have fire and i like it.”

-”I’ve watched your video a couple of times and it really moved me. You are wonderful and brave…You have a lovely soul, which was visible when you bared it. Xx”

-”I just watched your video and while I knew so much of that I’m sitting on a bus, bawling.”

-”OH MY goodness. I just watched this piece you performed and it made me cry. I bet tons of people have said that. I don’t have the words to express how much empathy, anger, compassion, sadness and love that I feel for you but also for everyone who has gone through something like this – it’s so universal….just watched it again and now I’m in tears AGAIN..”

-”It may not be much of a concillation, but you are a brilliant storyteller, and we’re all very lucky to be able to hear your stories.”

-”Just wanted to say that killed me and I’m bawling at 9:45 on a Wednesday. You’re a gift to art.”

-”Oh, sniffles, your video is amazing. I don’t know how you told your story with an even voice. You’re incredible.”

-”That was amazingly profound. I am Verklempt.”

-”you are a good one, Estima.”

-”good for you for recognizing a situation that was wrong for you. Many wouldn’t have the strength to leave.”

-”your video shook me and awoke a memory in me I thought I’d long ago purged. I’m ok knowing there’s still peace to come.”

I feel like a digital age Blanche Dubois, in that, I’ve always depended on the kindness of random internet followers;)

I’m okay now. I’ve been okay since I did this event. It’s like I let it go. I’ve moved on and I’m so happy now. My life is so charmed and wonderful, and I’ll never let someone make me feel anything less than wonderful again.

And besides, I’m living here!

So I can’t officially complain.

Anyway, the lesson herein is this:

Live a life that you’re proud of. And if you find that you’re not, find the strength to start over again.


Bird on a Wire

Adam invited me to his concert with his band A Winged Victory for the Sullen in London last night.

During their set, I started weeping like the moron that I am.

SCHEXY.

Douglas Dare was the opener. I saw him live this summer and fell in love with the song Scars, which I recorded live last night (see above video).

He’s just a kid, like 22 years old or something like that, but his talent leaves no room for childlike comparisons.

Adam introduced the new music. Humbly thanking the sold-out crowd for coming, he then apologized for their rusty live set. D’aww.


Looking goooood, Dustin.

Oh yeah, did I mention I’m living back in London now?

 


A photographic journey through The Full Moon Party in Koh Phangan, Halloween 2012

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DeadBoy is Under The Influence


Moi & DeadBoy at his gallery opening! photo by Rob (who was tanked on the awesomesauce.)

Last night, DeadBoy launched his Under The Influence exhibit at the Don’t Tell Mama gallery (on the Ossington strip), and the exhibit is up for the rest of the month. I would highly recommend checking it out, and buying one of his pieces asap before they’re all snatched up. I’m telling all of you now – in a couple years, his pieces will be selling at Christie’s and Sotheby’s for 6 figures. Mark my words. Buy now! Collector items and they’re fucking gorgeous.

See for yourself:


from his “Adore” series.


this is the one Adore piece that hasn’t hit the streets… yet.


does this piece look familiar? it should.


back in October, Deadboy gave me this piece. it was the very first piece of his i had ever found on the street, and to this day, it is still my favourite and means the most to me. sometimes i get pre-menstrual just looking at it…. stupid girlie hormones. (sniffle).

the piece he’s selling is gold instead of white like mine…. it really makes the image pop and gives it a haunting, antiquated quality to it.

BUY IT WHILE THE PRICE IS LOW!

and speaking of “Madonna,” back in 1983 when she was working the club scene like CBGBs and Danceteria in New York, she briefly dated a then-unknown street artist named….


Basquiat! i think this is my favourite piece at the entire exhibit. it’s an homage to one of the first street artists to change and revolutionize the form. Deadboy actually created this on a door he found! i love found-art! if you know anything about Basquiat when he was a street artist, his tag was “samo” with the crown symbol next to it, which deadboy has incorporated here. Basquiat said that “samo” was in reference to art being “same old same old” but the word also is related to racist language (sambo) used during slavery (and for a century afterwards).


Basquiat influenced his girlfriend Madonna so much, that for a brief time, she engaged in graffiti around new york as well. Her tag was… you guessed it…. “Boy Toy.”


Basquiat eyes. I really really want this door, but I can’t actually USE it as a door because I have a tendency to slam my doors when i’m pissed off (which is often. i have a temper).


“thanks for not voting!”
this one guy showed up at the exhibit and said to me that he found this piece offensive because he’s a card-carrying member of the Conservative party. i said, “really? my condolences.”


the dude then went on and on about how he thinks Canadians abuse the health care system because it’s universal, whereas in other countries where they have to pay for it, they don’t go to the doctor as often. i told him he was talking out of his ass, and that caring for its citizens and ensuring the right to life for every member of society should be the first priority of a government.

he said his taxes were too high because of our universal health care…. to which i replied, “oh of course. who cares about the suffering and disease of other people. all you should care about is your bottom line.”


and he goes, “exactly. i don’t care about other people as long as i’m making money.”

and there you have it folks – this one douche perfectly sums up the Canadian Conservative party in one sentence.


he then got all defensive and was like, “i don’t want to debate my political beliefs!”
and i calmly replied, “you brought it up, dude. i didn’t ask for your political beliefs, you offered up the info to me and started ranting. if you don’t wanna debate it, don’t bring it up.”


opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. and while i respect your RIGHT to an asshole, i don’t respect the shit that comes out of it.


the eponymous piece.


la piece de resistance.


that’s goddamn right. ATHEISM FOR THE WIN!

Check out my DeadBoy category for more of his work that I’ve photographed, and please please please go to his exhibit! It runs all month! Buy art!


brian, top marks for not trying

i’ve been bed-ridden for the past 4 days with a virus that is slow to depart, but i am on the mend (there were some scary moments though, i must admit)…. but a few days before i was a sick weakling with atrophied legs, i went to the Arctic Monkeys/Black Keys concert at the Air Canada Centre. i was lucky enough to get in on the pre-sale for this back in december, and quickly snagged a ticket before it sold out.

frankly, i was more excited for Arctic Monkeys than Black Keys (been a fan of theirs for five years, only been into the keys for two years).

 i really am kicking myself for not going to an Arctic Monkeys concert whilst I lived in England, that would have been much better.

normally, i’m not a fan of arena shows. i prefer smaller venues. as you can tell, even though my seats were pretty great, i was still really far from my love Alex Turner….

oh alex…. now that you and alexa chung have broken up, please, can i have your abortion?

there were some people sitting around me who didn’t even know who the Arctic Monkeys were …. i was like WHAT.

they played all my fav tunes… Brianstorm, Crying Lightning, I Bet that You Look Good on the Dancefloor, Fluorescent Adolescent, Leave Before The Lights Come On, Don’t Sit Down Cuz I’ve Moved Your Chair…. but they didn’t play A Certain Romance, Fake Tales of San Francisco, or anything from the Submarine soundtrack. NEXT TIME, i’m going to a concert where they’re headlining, cuz they left me aching for more. stupid opening act slot does not do them justice

and then the keys took the stage

since there’s only two of them, they made sure their set was loaded with spectacle. flashy lights, disco balls, huge video screens, lotsa hullabaloo

they played all my favourites, Gold on the Ceiling, Lonely Boy, Tighten Up, Howlin’ For You, Next Girl… but they didn’t play Have Love Will Travel. WTF?

This is a band that I don’t think necessarily translates well into huge arenas. They can sell out the arenas, for sure, but their music is so intimate and so CBGBs that it feels like a crime to be seated a football field away from the stage….

i made a short video of their encore…. a disco ball dropped from the ceiling, illuminating the entire audience in an ambient light. that reverberation you hear isn’t the drums, it’s the entire ACC audience clapping in time. it was a great moment:) Enjoy!


She Does The Spud

 

You probably noticed how I haven’t blogged in a bit. I used to blog once a week, then for the past six months, I’ve been blogging anywhere from six to thirteen times a day. It’s getting exhausting. I still have so many more graffiti and street art pics to blog, but I’m getting a little miffed at how many people are ripping off my photos (I deleted my weekend post ranting about this. It just wasn’t sitting well with me).

Anyway, while I decide the future of The Spadina Monologues, enjoy this amazing article and photospread by the gorgeous Becca Lemire (See! I give cred! SO SHOULD YOU). She attended the Spud gallery show, as did I, and not only photographed the event for She Does The City, but also asked a few choice questions of the guests.

She asked me if I would rather talk to Spud again (I interviewed him for The Grid a couple weeks ago), or if I’d like to talk to Mayor Rob Ford.

GUESS MY ANSWER.

Click here to read the article and find out my answer (along with several others). ENJOY!

(Photo credits: Becca Lemire)


I’ve been SNAP’d!

During Love A Heart, me and SOFI (not safi, dammit) and her friend steph were photographed by the event-photography magazine SNAP. I totally forgot about it until I was sent this above pic from the print copy. I must get my hands on that print copy. If you have it, please save it for me!

so i went on the SNAP website and found our photo. I found it odd and annoying that SNAP wanted to charge me $5 for downloading my own face! Luckily, there’s a handy little tool that comes with my PC called “Snipping Tool.” Hey SNAP, you should look into that.

Anyway, click here to read my account of my Love A Heart experience! (Some celebs made an appearance, I sold for a pretty penny, and someone loaded with awesomesauce was my top bidder. JUST SAYIN’.)


Tonight will be CENSORED

Imma be at CENSORED tonight, the gallery opening of graffiti artist SPUD. It’s at the Don’t Tell Mama gallery at 108 Ossington (2nd floor), and I fink it starts around 7:00ish but I’ll prolly show around 8ish. Oh, and look! Someone has been wheatpasting the show poster all over the city. I WONDER WHO DID THAT.


click the above image to read my interview with SPUD which was published in The Grid earlier this week. he discusses his gallery show tonight, and his beef with our fatty Mayor. ENJOY!


women, we gon’ march


International Women’s Day (which is tomorrow, March 8th) is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future. This past weekend, there was a protest march in toronto to draw attention to the issues in this city and country that affect women.

i love these events because they show just how informed, organized, and tightly regimented our communities are when it comes to issues that affect  not just women, but everyone. Notice how it’s not just women in this march.

they shut down yonge street, and were protected by The Filth (aka the cops), who prevented cars and traffic from getting anywhere near them. while i am grateful that i do live in a city and a country where the right to assemble and to protest is protected, i am still DISGUSTED by how that same right was denied us during the G20 in 2010. That stain will never be removed from the core of Torontonian’s hearts. We will never forget how peaceful protestors were beaten, detained, kettled, and illegally arrested.

“break the cycles, stop the silence, women in jail is state violence!”

“capitalism can’t be fixed – expropriate the banks!”

toronto women’s city alliance.

“free maricon montajes! free all political prisoners in the philippines!”

as we were observing this protest, someone said to me “international women’s day? when is international men’s day?”

and i replied, “EVERYDAY IS INTERNATIONAL MEN’S DAY!”

march 8th and december 6th (national day of remembrance and action on violence against women) must be kept holier than the sabbath.


have a happy birfday MOTHER FUCKER

my birfday clusterfuck was a success! first, it started off with this:

LeVar has always been my homeboy, love that man to bits. Such a nice man and so supportive.

After receiving a whopping 200+ facebook well-wishes and 100+ twitter well-wishes (you guys are the apple of my eye), it was time to make my milkshake bring all the boys to the yard.

aw yeeeeah. blue steel.

andrew is great because he knew next to nobody at this party other than me and quickly became the life of it. he’s pretty chill when it comes to working a room and making everyone lurve him.

i honestly don’t mind getting older, in fact, i rather enjoy it. Life feels more immediate. I’m taking nothing for granted, and i don’t sweat the small stuff.

Yaw is another one of those characters that everyone quickly and easily loves. And he is, as my friend teresa would say, a “4 B.” What’s a 4 B?

NEVER YOU MIND.

I think I am more nervous than I care to admit, because right before the party, I was having a little hissy-girly-wank-fest-fit. I became all cranky and moody because I received like 20 messages from people saying they were bailing on my party. I really need to grow thicker skin and a stiff upper lip. As soon as the room filled with my lovelies, all those ornery thoughts were shoved out of the way.

rob, dave, and trevor are the NEW charlie’s angels … rob can be farrah fawcett. HA!

shasheena brought me a gorgeous orchid! i was in awe of its beauty. i am notoriously horrid with plant-care, i never know how much light or water to give them, but i am going to put in my grade-A effort to keep this wild orchid reaching for the sky.

oh for the love of…

i adore my wife SO HARD. she’s so kind and so giving and so selfless.

and she’s got a butt that won’t quit.

hashtag WINNING.

sacha was clearly looking in the wrong direction when this photo was taken.

aw bless.

i can’t remember exactly what was being said here that i found so hilarious …. but it was clearly hella-funny. maybe we were talking about how my child-bearing years are now over. FUNNY. oh hai brennan!

chris is such a good photographer because he butters you up right before he snaps your photo, and makes you feel beautiful even if you have chocolate cake in your teeth and eye-makeup-goop in the corner of your eye. right before he snapped my pic, he said “christine you don’t have a bad angle, i never have to retouch your photos.” aw shucks, what a manufactured lie, but i will believe anything you tell me as long as it’s a compliment!

go team!

teresa is one of the few people still in my life from high school, i shaved the rest of ‘em out years ago. she makes the cut because she’s kind and brave and sweet and is too nice for her own good. her laugh is infectious and she never has a mean thing to say about the people she loves. oh and because she’s known me for so long, not only has she seen me change, she has LET me change. that’s the greatest thing a friend can do.

palm to palm is holy palmers kiss.

andrew and sofi are now each other’s back-up. in ten years time, expect to see little PapDonalds running around.

woah dave! was this taken at my party, or is it your official headshot for Ocean’s 14?

Scarbage high school girls unite! And we bring the street cred. The only people who spend FIVE YEARS in a Scarborough high school and make it out ALIVE are the tough-as-nails ones.

Andrew and Allegra are the new A-team.

see what I did there?

Shannon‘s a talented lass, she is.

Yaw can’t stop attracting da laydeez.

maybe when the timing is right, ashley and yaw will get married and their children will run the country on a platform of red-lipped smiles and huge biceps for everyone.

*this* close to seeing up allegra’s skirt. dammit.

laugh now, but one day, we’ll be in charge.

this photo is all lips and locks.

yes, it’s true. i gave in to peer pressure and took a sip of champagne.

EVERYBODY SHIT THEMSELVES.

This is probably my favourite photo of the night.

i refuse to have a party without hot men peppering the crowd.

“so i says to mable, i says…”

two men and a lil’ lady.

 i supplied my own birfday cake and that sounds kinda sad, but i was rather chuffed with the results. choco cake with almond-milk frosting! i do good work.

reg was so funny. she’s lighting the candles, and  because the match burns her skin, she ends up dropping the candle aflame onto the cake. so to prevent the cake from catching fire, she blows out all the candles. WIFEY STOLE MY BIRFDAY CANDLE WISH!

Porno for pyros.

“happy birfday to meee!”

as many of you know, i am full of hot air.

my mouth is huge.

hey fellas! use your imagination!

one year older, one year wiser.

I had a divine birfday weekend, fanks to all my lovely friends for coming out and blessing me with your presence!

You are the people i admire, i appreciate, i adore, i love …. and that i would (separately, at one time or another) like to smack the shit out of.

see you at next year’s birfday piss-up!

(additional photography by Chris Lukhardt, fanks guy!)


Happy Birfday to meeeeeeeeeeeee!

it’s my birfday today!

I’M OLD! GIMME GIMME GIMME!

i shant reveal my age here (a lady never does), but i will say that i am still younger than Jesus.

PAR-TAY!

I won’t be blogging until next week because this weekend i’m having a clusterfuck-shitstorm-extravaganza to kibosh all previous birfdays. if you’re a friend of mine, not an asshole, and live in the greater toronto area, you can come along.

let’s celebrate the day of my birth, aka the last time i saw female genitalia.
but hey, the night is young ….

also celebrating a birfday today: jon bon jovi, daniel craig, bryce dallas howard, dr seuss, jessica biel, and chris martin.

you wish you were born on this day now. ADMIT IT.

BIRFDAY BEATS, POSTE HASTE!


Censored


Imma make an appearance at this event, and so should you.

i love how i found this poster above another that says “you can lead a whore to culture.”

INDEED, SMITHERS.

Check out my SPUD category for more of his work.


Glitterati Trumps Common Sense

Yes, I am a woman who occasionally likes to dress up all fancy and hit up some posh joints, like the new Trump Tower in the financial district.

Mostly, we were there to hand out business cards, sample the free spirits and hors d’oeuvres, and pretend like we were adults. (Shh! Don’t tell anyone, we look just like adults, so we can slip right in unnoticed).

And yes, as you can see here, I had some laughs. But after about an hour, we had to unbutton the fancy threads and head over to a Hoops in a ghetto area of the suburbs where wasted Hispanic lovertines bought us tequila shots. We got food all over our laps, a drunken space-cadet barged into the men’s toilets, and we played some tonsil-hockey.

My kinda party.


The Night List’s favourite gal

that’s awfully kind of you Paul! fanks so much for that The Grid shout-out! we are long overdue for a catch-up and a cuddle.

click here to read how i did at the Love A Heart event!


SOLD!

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?

$300!!!

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.


See you at #LoveAHeart tonight!

Love A Heart is tonight!

my wifey and i are both on the auction block. come buy Valentines-y dates with us!

truth be told, i am kinda shitting myself, but at the end of the day, charity events like this shouldn’t be taken too seriously. it’s supposed to jolly! let’s have a laugh and buy some hotties a pint.

see you there, fellas!

(photography by Paul Hillier)


blog it like it’s hot

click on the above image to check me out in today’s Street Style section of BlogTO. BlogTO is one of the biggest (if not THE biggest) Toronto-centric blog out there (along with fellow high-ranking blogs Torontoist, Now Toronto, and The Grid) …. and the trolls who scavenge through the Street Style comments are infamous for their brutality. BRING IT ON, i can take it! (ha, no i can’t. total fragile ego right hurr).

but the best way to respond to internet trolls is to kill them with awesome. case in point:

i love how my wifey and i ended up juxtapositioned next to each other. it’s KISMET!

fanks to Paul Hillier for being such a fun photographer!


dancing cheek to cheek

heaven, i’m in heaven
and my heart beats so that i can hardly speak

and i seem to find the happiness i seek

when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.

heaven, i’m in heaven
and the cares that hung around me through the week

seem to vanish like a gambler’s lucky streak

when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.

-Irving Berlin


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