mercredi, septembre 28

ok here goes

somebody's gotta say it, so it may as well be me.

the guys from motley crue, from oasis, from (yes even from) the foo fighters, from velvet revolver, from u2, and most especially mostest especially from pearl jam need to sit down at a table with little wire bound looseleaf notebooks and pencils and maybe a couple of colours of highlighter for emphasizing the important bits and take some classes from those upstart former punk currently (maybe always) pop hooligans that are green day. they need to be reminded of what it means to put on an arena show. they need to be reminded of what it is to entertain in this kind of large venue. they need to listen to billie joe when he talks to them about striking a pose and singing to the rafters and pulling kids up on stage to shoot squirt guns and play the drums and run across to stage dive into the crowd. they need to remember that the show is to thank your fans for buying your cd's downloading your tracks for ninety9 cents for watching your videos and buying your dvds and when you get on the stage it's not about ego or about pissing and moaning 'cause you're really a *small* venue band, folks and you just can't communicate in these echo-y ampitheatres. so stay fucking home and count your bills, dude, don't charge me $79 and then not even bring what you've got. i haven't got that kind of money and if i wanted you to just reproduce your last cd i would have burned it off the 'net and stayed home in my jammies. that's what i think.

i woke up in a monthly cranky, kids, and it took me most of a day and a giant's share of ritter dark chocolate with whole hazelnuts to shake it. actually, it's still kind of there so i'm drinking wine and eating more chocolate and trying to convince myself that calories consumed while pms'ing don't stick around to be fatmakers 'cause they're too afraid of my surly mood. fortunately, today i received a bag full of cookies from pat the postman so i can eat them all and not worry about letting myself go.

hey, it's german'sbday so go say merry happy.

lundi, septembre 26

whoa hey holy

i'm nineteen hits away from being 20000 leagues under the sundae. that's kind of a milestone, i figure. what to do to celebrate? i am open to suggestions.

tnb is off working for two weeks again. yes, that's another two weeks without sex. by this time next week i should be randy and definately off my rocker. today, as revenge for leaving me, i text messaged him a detailed description of what my underwear looked like.

woo just took a huge hiatus to read dlisted... it's like the soft core they show at midnight on global, i swear. i love it and yet it makes me feel o-so-dirtay and unfulfilled inside...

i am eating two bite brownies in honour of nk. he's having a bit of a rough week or so, so i'm eating squishy chocolate goodness in solidarity. i know he objects to my blatant disregard for grammar and all things capitalized, however, i am woman enough to take his opinion under consideration and decide that i shall keep doin' it my way regardless.

other than that, not much is going on. i gained five pounds FIVE POUNDS (ok not really i'm completely exaggerating, but i do have a small taste for the hyperbole) this weekend at impromptu dinner parties - it was grand fun and i'd do it again next weekend except i fear being accused of letting myself go. mind you, i'd have to buy a new wardrobe, which would be a-ok in my books. and my boobs would become bigger, growing in size and mass with every single two bite brownie i ingest. or not every one, just every other one.

i have to maybe read some comedy or perhaps some fantasy or other more positive types of novel before i go to bed for a while. i dreamt last night that someone pissed me off so i duct taped their arms and legs together, dragged them into the middle of a swamp, opened up a vein and left them there for the animals to dispose of...

samedi, septembre 24

i heart weekends, too

got up early-ish, left a sleeping tnb in bed, hit the tenbucks downstairs for an americano and a chocolate croissant (natch), the rushed to the hairdressers for three hours of massage, herbal tea and girltalk.

can a day get better, you ask? why yes, yes it can, actually - the sun's shining on a frickin unbelievable fall day, tnb just called to find out when i was coming back for an evening of movies and couching, and my new hair is cute cute cute.

happy saturdae!

jeudi, septembre 22

tonight's the night

tonight's the season premiere of csi. i heart csi - it's the only show i watch with any kind of regularity. i'm just not that into tv. i could be in that book that came out last year, except they'd have to change the title from 'he's just not that into you!' to 'raspberry's just not that into...' and insert a long list of nouns. like tv. and brussels sprouts. and being bored.

it's way more fun to talk about what you are into than what you aren't into. the pseudonymonous dean simon has a great post about anal sex right now. the raspberry is into that. (caveat - when done right. when it's wrong, it's oh-so-wrong). heck, i wrote the ass post in honour of all those extra nerve endings...

the raspberry is also into these books by some guy named john connolly. i have a total crackhead's weakness for mystery novels, but i'm a connoisseur of mystery novels - a gourmand, even. i like 'em well written. i like books in series 'cause i love to watch characters develop. i like the american style of mystery novel, rather than the british. but more than all that i like mystery novels, pulp fiction, cotton candy floss fiction, which refute the idea that a 'paperback novel' is a lower form of literature than something vintage books puts out in trade paperback and charges 21.99 for. don't get me wrong. my master's level education is in english literature. i know that there's a difference between most novels you pick up off the rack at shoppers drug mart, and the kind that get studied in that first year guppy course you laboured through in a lecture hall full of three hundred other people who only read the coles notes to romeo and juliet, and figured that even that was a stretch of their patience. i know that there's a difference. i just agree with umberto eco.

when he wrote the name of the rose he set out to create a mystery novel that was not just a mystery novel. he wanted to create an 'open text' - a book that has multiple layers of meaning,and is open to a multiplicty of interpretations. he took pop culture seriously way before the tao of homer. he understands that you bring your intelligence to any reading, and that i can read jane austen and think of nothing more than how fucking boring it is, but you there, ya you, can watch wwf wrestling or go see the strippers at the number five and come away with a deeper understanding of human nature.

this john connolly guy writes smart thrillers. like - i LOVE him as a writer. he's my new fave. i love his writing style. i love the fact that, in his first book, his villain quoted and drew inspiration from john donne. i love the fact that, aside from mentioning some gray hair sneaking in, you don't know what charlie parker (the hero in the series) looks like. i love how he defines evil as a void - as an absence of empathy, making reference to the nuremberg trials. i like that he uses words and ideas that, if you are so inclined, you can stop reading, look up and stare off into the distance, and think about for a while. it makes me happy.

so now i just need to get the new one. it just came out, though, so won't be in paper for a while, which sucks 'cause i read them so fucking fast that it hurts me to pay forty dollars for a book (and don't say go to the library 'cause when i love an author i put his or her books in rotation and go back to them again and again. libraries frown at you when you refuse to relinquish their possessions, and they just don't understand your need to hold them touch them carry them in your bag not even put it on the floor at night when you finally shut the light off eyes burning from reading so long arms sore from holding the book aloft).

anyway, i have to wait. i've read the series (all four) over again in the last two weeks. actually, it wasn't until last saturday when i popped into a used book store on my way home from tnb's place that i found book two. it took me just over 24hours to finish. see why hardcover's not really an option? well, maybe for christmas, i guess. (see! this is why i need a sugardaddy!)

mercredi, septembre 21


i need:

  • change for a fiver
  • a pair of great brown shoes, with a heel
  • another black cardigan
  • some fall/winter tops for work
  • more in-person two-am wakeup calls
  • to be entertained
  • to be inspired
  • the next john connolly book
  • more income and/or
  • a sugardaddy
  • a haircut
  • to go for a walk in the sunshine
  • six more months of summer
  • a white christmas
  • for the constantines show to be tomorrow
  • a waterfront apartment with a view of the mountains in a small town
  • to hear the words which are my heart's desire
  • to be able to write like this person.
  • or this person
  • or this person
  • to load myself up, with whatever puts me all the way up
  • to drink more wine
  • to buy tanning minutes so that my mood doesn't fall down down down with the rain rain rain all winter
  • to watch the season premier of CSI (tomorrow! do *not* call between the hours of nine and ten!)
  • to judge a topless cookie bake-off between this girl and this girl
  • to visit this person

    what do you need?

    what do you need?

lundi, septembre 19


so i came home from worked and baked a banana chocolate chunk cake. then i made a mango ginger veggies & tofu stirfry. then i baked double chocolate chunk cookies. as i was taking the second batch out of the oven, my mama looked at me and asked "oh dear. did you and tnb have a fight?"

see, i cook (specifically bake) when i'm stressed. and there's really no reason for me to be stressed - i just have a general sense of unease, you know? i can't quite put my finger on it - i just feel uncomfortable in my own skin.

i think part of it is that i spent pretty much the whole weekend at tnb's place. i didn't have a whole lot of quality raspberry time - just a hungover sundae afternoon on the deck (which doesn't really count 'cause i was noxiously exuding stale red wine vapours and could barely stand myself).

oh well - i'm sure i'll figure it all out. or not - perhaps i'll just self destruct in a cinammon tinted chocolate explosion of fresh baked goodness. betcha that'd be a bitch to get out of the carpet....

dimanche, septembre 18

sundae night

i've been having a bad food weekend, so i've adopted my emergency 'stop eating and drink lots' strategies to avoid excessive vomitting. mind you, after the second bottle of wine last night, i thought to myself "i bet tomorrow morning i'm going to wish i'd eaten dinner". and guess who was right? that's right - it was the girl with the headache. i haven't had one of these in a while - you know the kind where all i can keep down is turkey, white rice and toast. i guess i was due. tnb ran out yesterday morning to buy me soy milk so i could have cereal when i got up - i felt really bad but i couldn't eat it 'cause i would have tossed for sure. of course, i didn't explain this to him. my allergies confuse/upset him. i just ate toast. mmmmtoastmmmmm.

i guess it's a result of the crappy week at work... but we won't talk about that now.

meh - i got nuttin. i took a bubble bath and drank a mug of sleepytime tea, so i'm practically comatose. i'll try and be more entertaining tomorrow, i promise....

jeudi, septembre 15

o be joyful

'cause that shit spreads...

tnb is back in town - he called while i was on The Quest for Jeans - Day Six. i immediately abandoned the quest for jeans, and went on a quest for slutty undies. in green, of all colours, 'cause that's what he asked for. it's hard to find green slutty undies. but, perservere i did, and conquer the mall, i did. i even bought a bra without the slight padding at the front. see, i have big nipples. not the roundabout part, but the nipple themselves, are rather large. so when it's, shall we say, chilly, you can tell i'm not so warm. and i'm rarely warm, kids, let's be honest, here.

but tnb enjoys the nipple display, so i purchased a bra that is just mesh at the front. just for him. ain't i sweet?

ah, shit. who'm i kidding? i'm so horny that, at this point, he could tell me that full length calico flannel nightgowns and caps (a la little house on the prairie) make him hot and i'd be hauling out the sewing machine. just call me laura fucking ingalls.

mardi, septembre 13

holy crap

clearly i'm not one of those people meant to go without sex.


i mean, i have had self-imposed dry spells, but those are, somehow, different than there being someone with whom you *should* be having regular sex and being unable to. like a whole world apart.

i may go nuts.

i've been knocking boots with myself at *least* once a day, and i'm just freakin' insatiable. like, i just did it. and i could do it again.



seriously, though, it's only been a week. A WEEK. can you imagine the state of affairs on friday when tnb gets home? 'hi raspbMBPH!' (greeting broken off as tnb is tackled by flying naked blonde girl). i tried to talk him into a little cellular love last night, but he was worried that the guy he's sharing his hotel room with would look at him askance if he took the phone into the bathroom and didn't come out for an hour. i suggested that he give him a dollar and tell him to go buy some gumballs, and that there'd be a prize if he came back with all lime flavoured. i said i'd even repay the dollar. i'm not sure he understood that i was serious. obviously, tnb has more self control than i do, cause - let's not kid - i would have gotten naked and spreadeagled on the coffee table - roommate or no roommate.

in other, yet related, news, i've discovered an organization here in vancouver which teaches you how to give hot and heavy lapdances. guess who's signing up? and, as i was chirruping joyfully over this discovery, i was pointed in the direction of another such place which teaches you how to do POLEWORK. how hot would that be?

to be frank, i'm much more interested in the lapdancing than the polework though the latter is the coolest. i just can't see myself being able to practice/perform very regularly, not having the necessary hardware in the bedroom. lapdances, though, are delightfully portable. (textmessage sent to tnb this afternoon: "OMG! I'm going to learn how to LAPDANCE!!") shit if that doesn't get me some extra special fun, i don't know what will.

lundi, septembre 12

listen to this, please

engineers anti-gravity mix via stereogum.

thanks, and as you were.

dimanche, septembre 11

wake up call

this morning my phone rang at 4.40am. it always panics me 'cause of the kiddo and how he used to sneak out of the house all the time and
i never knew where he was or what he was doing and i was always so afraid that one night i'd get a call and he'd be not ok, by any stretch of the imagination.

he doens't really do that anymore (she says knocking wood like a madwoman) - he seems to be growing more respectful of my need to know that he's safe as he gets a little older.

but this morning the phone rang at 4.40 and it was tnb. he's working out of town for a couple of weeks and so i haven't seen him since last monday and so i'm feeling like i really need a little sumpinsumpin knowwhatimean and i called him last night when i was all drunk on painkillers and vodka-sodas and left him a dirt-ay voicemail reminding him of the last time i saw him and what i was doing with my mouth and my hands and how much fun it was.

so the phone rang at 4.40 this morning and he was drunker than me and he didn't want to talk dirty he just wanted to say how much he missed me, and tell me how he wished i was there so he could wrap me up in his arms. i kind of still wanted to talk dirty but the sweet stuff was good too so i let him go with it. he said that he could maybe quit working and come home today instead of next week but then what would he do? i said find a new job and he said yeah but it would probably be somewhere else which would be bad. yes it would i replied and he said i'd really miss you if i moved and that's really weird for me to say. i told him that it's ok to like me - i'm a nice person.

but we didn't do any dirty talking so i still feel really fucking horny and goddamn i don't know how i'm gonna make it a whole two weeks. maybe tonight he'll do a little phone putting out cause i'm just not doing it for myself right now.


i still have this fucking headache - mikeb dropped me on my head last week before pearl jam and i got a mild concussion and have had a headache ever since. me and t3 have been best buds i'm telling you. i don't remember much of the concert, truth be told, but what i do remember was pretty boring. we went to see oasis and kasabian on thursday and they were a thousand times more dynamic. i think it's time for PJ to just hang up the mic and stay in the studio - they clearly weren't interested in what they were doing. from what i remember anyway.

kasabian, on the other hand, was great fun - super happy mondays style manchester britpop madness - MADchester - and i loved loved loved them. oasis, too, was great fun and i sang along and tried to call tnb when they played 'lyla' cause that's kind of our song a little bit.

check the sidebar, though, kids cause the two best shows are coming up back to back nights what a wild ride that'll be - the killers and the constantines - i'm going to buy a whole stack of tix for the constantines next week so if you want to come with then let me know. that's dallas (hi baby call me) my love my heart (soon we'll be reunited) there on the right.

i also added a couple of new links - up top in places there's a hit to a northern perspective writing site, and under other people's lives i've added some canadian blogs of note. take a looky-loo....

german checked in from londontown, nk is back from his world travels and didn't call me while he was here (stinker), and tony pierce reprinted michael moore's 9.11 letter to gdub.

k i'm out - it's sunny out and my bikini is a callin'

vendredi, septembre 9

since you've been gone

or since i've been gone, rather.

i've noticed that, since i returned from my hollyday my voice has been a little subdued. it's not quite me - i'm reading words on the page as though they were written by a stranger. (you can do it! thousands already have!) what am i hiding from, i wonder?

myself, clearly.

i'm hiding from the fact that i like tnb and have settled into a situation is unsettled at best uncertain at worst and i'm pretending like i don't care.

but i do.

i'm hiding from the fact that i know what i want and i know that i'm not getting it.

i'm hiding from the fact that i'm sad, inside, but have happy cupcake icing on the outside. you know the kind - with foodcolouring sugar glitter on top.. the kind that tastes sweet but has an underlying bitterness to it.

it's the sparkly shiny glitter that distracts me, keeps me here.

my thorns have blackberries on them. i can't escape because i keep getting distracted by the sweetness. i wind myself in the vines tighter and tighter they scratch and scrape and puncture me but i keep reaching for the fruit.

i'm distracted by the sweetness soft touches in the dark mouth on my tits my lips hands in my hair cock inside my cunt in my ass on my tongue.

i'm distracted by the sweetness the cotton candy junkfood sweetness so good for a moment but in an hour i'm hungry again.

i'm hungry again.

mercredi, septembre 7

random confession #612

that commercial with the grandma - you know, the one where she's sitting at the table all dressed up all by herself, the one that says tell your grandma you missed dinner with her 'cause you were stoned? you know that one?

it always makes me cry a little.


so what's next with monte? nothing, dude - well, nothing more than there ever is. he's gone back home to go to school, where he'll end up dating a girl who's about 12 years younger than he is and does lots of drugs. she'll fuck him around and make him super insecure, he'll screw around and do tonnes of coke and mess up his grades and pull himself back (barely) in time to maybe make some c's. i'll proof his papers for him and tell him that his ideas are great but he needs focus and better grammar and he needs to do some more research. in my head i'll give him a grade before i proof 'em for him, then i'll do the work and he'll hand it in and he'll pull a mark a lettergrade higher than the pre-edited version. he'll break up with the gf and he'll come see me or talk to me a bunch and i'll tell him all the good stuff i always tell him. i'll take him to do stuff he never gets to do 'cause he hangs with girls who only want to party and do drugs and party some more. he'll look at me speculatively 'cause he knows that i'm really what he's looking for, then he'll go home and do it all again.

that's just the way shit is with m & me.

dimanche, septembre 4

don't forget the good stories

in the midst of the horror of gang violence, rape, murder and racism, there are moments of beauty as well.


so yesterday i spent the day with monte. wow - i lost my train of thought completely, there. we went for brunch, went to the art gallery to see rodin, met up with friends to watch strippers and then went dancing. i came home at three, after dropping him off where he was staying - after him spending the entire car ride home massaging my neck, touching my face, distracting me from driving. after i walked him up to the apartment (he'd never been), him kissing me goodbye, taking my hand and trying to draw me in with him. it is just natural that exactly one day after i tell tnb that i'm not sleeping with anyone else, i get to hang out with monte. *sigh*.

samedi, septembre 3

more on n'awlins

the bbc on kanye

and the always thought provoking mblog for more links etc, if you are interested. matt good also links to a variety of charities, and/or additional sources of information on government reaction to this tragedy, as well as some of the potential root causes (including diverted funding, institutionalized racism, and plain ol' apathy).


an update on tnb: i did actually talk to him the other night. i asked him flat out if he was sleeping with other people. i told him that i saw a picture of another girl by his bed and it made me wonder - i wasn't being nosy, i just couldn't help but see. i told him that it's really none of my business if he does - i have no real claim over him and would never dream of forcing him to behave in a way which contradicts how he wants to live his life. i told him that all i've ever asked from him was honesty - i just need the information so that i can decide how i want to continue.

he said he's not sleeping with anyone but me. he told me i had nothing to worry about . he asked me if i was sleeping with other people. i told him no. we've been seeing each other for seven months and that is the first time we've had that conversation.

a friend asked if i believe him. i do, actually. tnb's way of being dishonest is through evasion, not outright deception. he's like me. if you ask him something point blank he'll always tell you the truth - he just won't tell you until you ask. and what's more - i actually trust him. not a common thing, for me. whether or not trusting him is a good thing remains to be seen, i guess.


we went to see pearl jam last night - in fact, we ended up with an extra ticket so at the last minute we called my sister, hauled her away from her dinner and got her in. our seats were not good, but the sound was more than decent. for some reason, they don't use video screens so that if you are in the back you can't really see but man oh man eddie sounds exactly the way he does on your cd, dude.

i think, though, if i'm to be honest, that of all the shows i've seen this year, pj was my least fave. the band seemed to have little energy, and it just didn't grip me emotionally like some of the others have. still - great music. i sang along like a crazy person (as usual).

vendredi, septembre 2

stuff to think about

tony pierce raises some very valid questions regarding G-Dub's reaction (or essential lack thereof) to the tragedy which hurricane katrina has inflicted upon the residents of the southern us. he links here. go look - it nearly brought me to tears, particularly the last image.

indeed, it caused me to wonder where our own leader was in all this. paul martin was the first western leader to visit thailand and the other tsunami stricken countries earlier this year, but he's been largely silent this past week. indeed, it wasn't until yesterday that he was reported to have even telephoned gdub to offer support. now, this could have been because our fearless leader was aware that georgy-boy is seemingly uninterested in these events. i'd like to think he had some other plan to go rushing in with our good-ol' canadian style peacekeeper aid and really kick some hurricane cleanup ass. i can see it now - canadian soldiers swooping down in seaking helicopters, draping stranded victims in canadian flags to shelter them from the elements and feeding them KD or maybe maple syrup drenched poutine.

somehow, i doubt it.

but the question remains - why was his reaction so different to this catastrope than to the tsunami? is it just because we've become jaded to the needs of our southern neighbours? i, as much as most canadians, take a perverse pleasure in shaking my head at the antics of the us - at their decadent culture; at their high handed military actions; at their strong conviction that they are the sole possessors of the pinnacle of world culture. but i think it's wrong to lose sight of the fact that this stereotype that we so love to make fun of is an institutional one. sure bubba from tennessee may have been overheard spouting off about how canadians are faggots for refusing to follow the us into iraq. sure we have bad blood because of the softwood lumber issue. but these issues should not supersede the fact that, on an *individual* level a whole bunch of people desperately need food, shelter, and water. an entire region has been devastated and we should do all we can to assist.

i think, anyway.

jeudi, septembre 1


ok so i'm at tnb's place yesterday, and notice, beside his bed, a little stack of photographs of another girl. he was in the shower - i wandered into his room to claim my book from my bag and there they were. just sitting there, beside his bed.

when he got out of the shower, he went into his room, grabbed them, and chucked them into the closet. "what are you hiding?" i asked. "nothing, just putting something away."

now, he's 35. if he's going to fuck other people, he's going to fuck other people - not much i can do about it. however, and i've been quite clear about this, i would like to know that this is the state of our relationship for a few reasons:
1) if he's going to fuck other people, so am i.
2) if i'm fucking other people, especially if i fuck someone with any kind of regularity, then i'm going to lose interest in hanging out with tnb - i have neither the time nor the energy to deal with two men.
3) if we are both fucking other people, why the fuck would we bother fucking each other?

so i left it at that, 'cause i need to sort these things out in my head before i talk about them, otherwise i fly off the handle and things get emotional and i say things that shouldn't be said. but i need to ask him about it, i guess. what i DON'T know is that whether or not i even have a right to ask him? i mean, technically, he broke up with me and we've never talked about the fact that shit hasn't changed between us. we aren't - technically - dating. so do i have a right to ask, even? do i have a right to feel all confused and sort of sad?