At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!
After the Warren Kinsella debacle that was our last Best/Worst, we thought it’d be appropriate to follow up with someone who offers the same degree of popularity-cum-polarity, only on the other side of the Internet spectrum. Ladies and gentlemen, blogging champion of the world Lauren White AKA Raymi the Minx!
For the unacquainted, our favourite Toronto-based A-list blogger runs what would at first glance appear to be a celebrity blog or fansite (in that it details the down-to-the-minute minutia of an everyday life in text + blagillions of photos), only it’s journal… and it’s all about her. Even though she’s my age [read: a wee babe], she’s a grandmama in the blog world, having been at it since, like, the year 2000, long before your mom heard the word “blogosphere” on CNN.
If you live in Toronto, you’ve definitely glimpsed her in real life –- at every concert/press party/free booze shindig you’ve ever attended. Or maybe even at one of her art shows (where she showcases equal parts paintings of Lindsay Lohan and Kim Jong-Il). And if you recognized her, you definitely checked her site the next day to see whether or not she approved of the scene-y event of your choosing.
There was probably a time when I reloaded Raymi’s blog more than my own email, mostly because she actually updates that much (we could take a cue). This was a revelation– a time-killing mega-distraction on a pre-Mark Zuckerberg Internet. For some, it’s hard to pinpoint the appeal of her blog, outside of the blankfaced voyeurism it affords with little to no censorship. Its been referred to as everything from performance art to soft porn (and thus occasionally blocked on the computers of those with real-people jobs), and she gets written about by everyone from Eye Weekly to Drunken Stepfather. I dunno, we just like her. And other people must too because she has lots of those weird little Best Blog in Canada/the-Universe awards on her site, and more hits than we could dream of this side of becoming a Warren Kinsella hate forum. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt her rad factor that she’s related to Jack Kerouac.
(p.s. we did this interview via email and aren’t editing it, lest the raymicore-types lynchmob us)
i worked for one day only in park slope, brooklyn at this total yuppie organic vegetarian cafe, so uptight, it was a month after 9/11 so everyone was on edge and lost (jobwise, spiritually, whatever), i really needed money, it was going to be under the table. i eat meat and at the time i smoked, i think the smoking thing is what turned them off of me. i was paid 5 bucks an hour for that day. at dinnertime all these demanding waspy types came in and rushed the store and called in orders, total chaos, on top of being taught everything in 20 minutes like how to tare (measure) on the scale all the portions, fuck. totally made me scatterbrained and feel wickedly stupid. it’s hard to learn when you know someone thinks you are an idiot, prior to that i had zero food industry experience, bartending yes, food no. i did not receive a call back. i forget what the place is called and i do not care they can kiss my ass.
the one i got in england (for free) when i was 17. well it wasnt so bad, but when i came back to canada i had it modified even shorter and then it just went bananas from there. here is the original cut, not too bad, kinda moppish beatle. not so hot looking in this one then from there i fucked it all up by rod stewarting myself. yikes right.
goths or emo kids.
oh fuck too many, like the time i took the subway all the way to scarborough to meet a dude from the internet who was like totally pushy and nowhere close to as dashing as he seemed on the net. he was really skinny and tall and russian and really wanted to do it and i was putting out all these it’s not going to happen vibes, i get really polite when i am uncomfortable and i smile a lot and so he was misreading it, he offered to drive me back downtown (i was commuting from the burbs at the time working d/t) and i was like no way i am taking the subway. oh and using the payphone after i ditched the guy i left my brothers new winter hat in the booth. insult to injury much.
that ponytail thing that makes knots in your hair, the type of style polygamists rock, ungh brutal to my eyes.
anything i have ever scooped on impulse, typically clothes. oh wait i bought a spinner blinged out necklace as a joke, gave it to my niece. it wasnt that expensive, just a pointless purchase. also an expensive pair of jeans that i never even wear.
Worst way to die
being murdered, doesnt matter how. someone taking your life from you w/o your choosing or desire to die, the worst. then theres cancer and aids and blah blah bla death is scary!