Concensus 2013

3/3 hobos agree my new Lucite heels are fine as hell.  They are also good for hiking through gravel paths and taking 40 min walks home.  However, after quipping that my ankles will be bruised tomorrow from how many times I had rolled them, a grungy man peeing on a store front yelled "You'll be sore in 2 minutes when I'm done with you" and that was when I realized there is such a thing as too Millennium-chic.

LEGIT CHRISTMAS TIME!!!

     It felt like it would never ever come, but I'm off work for the day and it really is beginning to look(feel) a lot like Christmas!  I've been handling holiday merch for the last 5 months and I finished my shopping December 1st so this has been a hard holiday season for me.  Well, now it is finally over, except for the good stuff!

     Happiest of holidays to you and all you hold dear!

Much love,

Thing of Stuff

jus a lil treat too

Rantasaurus Rex

What the eff are all these filters on photos on Facebook?  I have a cheapo-Nokia phone, so I don't understand this Instagram shit, but hell yeah skin looks flawless when it is all pixelated and grainy or blurred out like a Vaseline'd lens in a 70's porn shoot.

It is intriguing to me when the only activity a person has online is posting photos of themselves.  There are many possible rebuttals to this, and who really cares?  It isn't my place to judge but I cannot lie and am totally willing to own up to the fact that I am totes jealous of girls that get minimus 30 likes on a picture of just the neck up with no hint of clarity or that it was actually taken with a camera.

Perhaps I enjoy socializing in a stress-free environment, but at least the photos I post are from runways and shoots, parties and trips (aka: my real life, not just constructed Mac Book photo ops). With the new year fast approaching, I vow to live in the now and eff this artificial popularity contest.

#nofilter #iwakeupflawless #iwasalwaysacartoon #fukdisish #highschoolpuppyfat #fukhashtags #whatevenisthisaccomplishing #thanksforreading #loveyouall

Still Alive

...sort of.

Take a semester off she said.
It will be fine, she said.

Oh lord, what a fool I've been.

The last few months have been filled with fashion weeks (yay!), runway shows (yay!), photo shoots (yay!), go sees (yay!) and days upon days upon days working 5am-1pm or 6am-2pm Monday to Friday in the craft store.  Jesus H Chripes, I need intellectual stimulation!  I'm on to my 8th book, lots of dystopian and modern fiction, but it isn't nearly the same as being in school.

I apologize for the blurriness of the pictures, I had to use my crumby camera in my phone or else I know that it'd be another half year before I post again.  I am dying.  My soul is atrophying from being locked in the cage of menial retail tasks.  I have no energy to work out when I get out in the middle of the day.  I have no Upass because I am not registered for classes this semester, so having to bus home in the mid morning after working 8 hours does not help my energon supply either, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  In 5 weeks I shall return to academia!  Hopefully triumphant and refreshed, the spring should be filled with adventure and excitement.
     As of late, I've even lost the sparkle in my eyes.

     My lifeless fish eyes are fairly repellent.  I haven't been hit on at work or on the bus home since I started these god forsaken morning shifts. 

 

     In the beginning of summer, I wore a bit of make up and attempted to look decent, but it is not worth it.  I feel horrible all the time.  The master plan was to have all this time to work out and stay fit and always be prepared when modelling jobs come up, but I always seem to have to stop eating all carbs suddenly the week before an event or go see.  I work out highly infrequently, usually too exhausted from lifting huge-ass boxes and unloading trucks and moving decorative rocks and shit around at ungodly hours on a weird and sporatic sleep schedule.  I can't go to kick boxing because it is only offered in the mornings on week days and I need to sleep in on weekends to survive.  My crazy partying days are on hiatus because the crippling exhaustion is too much for my frail body to handle without instantly getting some kind of horrid sinus infection or other unpleasant ailment.

     My dream is to go to school, model (and actually make some serious cash), work a few shifts at a low key family restaurant and have more opportunities to feel well rested and look put together.

   The pieces are already there in my wardrobe, I simply lack the motivation or creativity to make a beige polo, cardigan, and black pants look particularly stylish yet still be able to do hard physical labour.  I'm good at my job right now and I work damn hard though; however, nothing can make me want to stay there other than being able to take time off when I want and need it.  Honestly, it was probably a waste of my earning opportunities by not picking up a restaurant job where I could use my looks to weasel my way into phat tips for much much much less effort.

     Hopefully I can post more often as the holiday season in retail winds down and the legit Christmas holiday season of celebrating and days off kicks up.  I really missed this.  To those of you still reading this, or stumbling upon it for the first time, thanks for reading.

Also, it has come to my attention that some people searching "minion porn" have been brought to my blog.  If this is referring to Despicable Me minions, y'allz crazy motherfuckers and I admire that.  Keep flying your freak flags in the semi-privacy of the internest.

Love and stuff,

Thing of Stuff

Cinderella was Right

I do still exist. As always, things have been hectic, but I have officially completed my ultimate secret childhood goal of signing on to an international modelling agency. I am not the thinnest, not the tallest, and certainly not the most beautiful girl ever but I might be in hair product or dog food ads for cash money. The future is full of wonderful, possibly glamorous chances to make myself proud! 

Dreams really do come true!

 If I've learned anything from anime, fantasies always involve bubbles and being naked but without genitals.

Anniversary

Happy Anniversary!

Something's...not...sitting RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!

I can't believe this is actually my third year documenting life as Thing of Stuff. Finally, some freedom to doodle to my heart's content.  I passed out hard core Disney princess coma style last night and couldn't finish this post...also didn't wake up to my boyfriend's text that he was outside my house with Dunkaroos (rainbow vanilla frosting kind, of course) and I feel like a bad person, but it's been surprisingly difficult to transition to the freedom of summer time and only working and doing what I want when I want, job not withstanding.

 So Thing of Stuffers, a big thank you to those that have been lurking from the very start and a big hello to anyone joining at any time.  It should be an exciting summer full of fun, festivals, mini trips, and misadventures in retail!

3rd year, Check Please!

FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST!

     I am a liberated woman, granted I still work at a cruddy retail job a trained monkey could do, but other than that I'M FREEE!  I even have done a few crafts over these first few days of commitment free living.

Here's a taste of what I've been up to in my "spare" time.  It's a side of me most of you have never ever seen: the real girl.

Just kidding!  The lines really hide my identity, don't they?  But hopefully y'all can understand that between this (hours upon hours of prep for 6 minutes of stage time) on top of mountains of university work, that things have been a little too hectic to indulge in relaxing hobbies.

The time has finally come to hone in on drawing and take the vice grip off whatever cells produce cortisol, cause the stress was legit tearing me apart!  So I can stop doing terrible, terrible things in Paint....well, I can't make any promises on that one...

Even though it's only April, Summer has officially started.

Still Alive

Dear readers (if there are any still clinging to the hope that I'll break myself away from studying to do something constructive and fun),

I've been a bad/good girl and have been avidly studying and working out CAUSE I'M DOING MY FIRST PAID RUNWAY SHOW! A dolla makes me holla Honeybooboo chiiiiiilllllld!  Yes, tomorrow I get to do a choreography session to prepare for the show on the 9th!  I'm so excited and nervous I could pee and/or barf EVERYWHERE!

It can't all be productive, I was procrastinating and looking at children's toy commercials on line because I'm having obscure jingles and kid's song pop into my head all the damn time right now.  Feeling just a wee bit scatterbrained with all this excitement going on and the end of yet another semester of university.

Anyway, here's what I found tonight:

The internet seems to want to draw me to things about maggots, and it's really not appreciated.

Bear with me, my life will be mine again soon.

Just Saying Hi

I know I've been really (REALLY) light on the doodles lately, but I had to share this new word with y'all: Sluttoo.

http://www.vice.com/en_ca/vice/dnd/52736

I flippin' love VICE; their docs, their fun pictures (especially Do's and Dont's) and their lighthearted approach to informing readers on really strange and heavy issues gets me hot for global current events.

So, if you have ever considered getting a Hello Kitty tattoo on your elbow, bows on your pointer fingers, some Chinese characters you can't read, fairies, dolphins, or a hibiscus chest piece please reconsider.  The whole world will judge you.  By all means, get tattoos that mean something to you and don't look like a drunk 14 year old stabbed your weathered skin with a safety pin repeatedly.  Tattoos can be really neat if executed properly, but I have a hard time finding enthusiams for the onslaught of youth with music notes behind their ears or song lyrics or Marilyn Monroe quotes on their rib cages. 

Crone Life. (if it fit on my knuckles, I'd have it tattooed already)

Clubbing

Alive, awake, alone outside...and sober?  Maybe I am older now, but walking home in the rain on this warmish night of almost Spring-time made me wonder about a snappy remark my mum made a few days ago.  She scoffed, "does anyone ever actually look back on their youth and think, hey, maybe the things people told me not to do were for a good reason and I'm glad I didn't do them.  But no, kids just do it anyway." (The context is irrelevant)
Perhaps it was because both of my male counter parts could not come out tonight, absolutely nothing about clubbing appealed to me.  My god, after watching Crazy Stupid Love, I should have very high expectations about meeting Ryan Gosling-esque males.  Alas, I have come to terms with the fact that a night in with my own man would beat a thousand awkward advances from cologne-drenched occidentals.

Oh well, the night only cost me $4.50 and confirmed my devotion to disdain for racks on racks on racks of bitches with long-ass hair touching my arms and back as they flail aimlessly to overly cranked music. 

Dat Bitch

I've noticed something in my time here on Earth, there are specific, innocuous, generic pretty girl names.  We all know Britney-s.

We all know Ashley-s.

We all are beginning to experience the wrath of Cadence-s. (It seems like pretentious waspy names are totally in vogue in the States.  Eden, Cadence and Kennedy are so the new Aubrey and Ava)  I have learned so much about child name trends from Toddlers and Tiaras and it's really creepy to see them permeating Canadian families.

But I am here to talk about Emily-s.  Generic nice girl name, what can I say.  I can list 7 off the top of my head just in my grad class and extended same age friend base.  They are all nice.  They are all pretty.

Let us consider the evidence from the media.
I give you Emily the Tugboat.  Check out her friendly smile, big eyes, nicely arched brows and playful bucket hat.

taken from: http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100805210150/theodoretugboat/images/3/36/Emily.PNG

Flippin Emily from Arthur.  If anyone can put up with D.W., they are a freaking saint, even if she can be a snob at times.
Taken from: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120909021449/arthur/images/2/28/Emily.png

Hi, I'm Rachel Bilson and I somehow survive on the ABCDEdiet but must poop all the time and am a tiny woman child and all the boys wanna take a turn with this small town rural TV doctor.  That statement would be correct if she actually was Emily Owens M.D., but she isn't, she's Hart of Dixie, but I don't really care.  Her name isn't even Emily in her show, I got the two mixed up because they are both lady doctors on TV, oh well.  I just had a hankering to political cartoon detail her huge, beady head and tiny frame.

I wish I was classically beautiful, goddamn it.

Good Lord

I don't quite know why searching "cute bunny rabbits" on Google Images would bring up an endoscope photo of a man's nasal passage filled with maggots, or why it would be tagged "cute bunny rabbits - man's nasal passage filled with maggots" but apparently Google thinks that's ok to have on page 4 of the search.  They kind of rhyme...kind of.

Tonight, I doodle.  Hopefully a post full of random crap will grace the internet tomorrow.  It's been a really crazy start to 2013 for me and my family: credit card fraud, Grandad passed away, another photo shoot.

Things aren't all bad, but my face has still not de-flushed from the horror of the nose maggots.

Untitles

I have one thing, and one thing only to say today.  What the hell is Grimes?

Role Models

My parents were watching some sort of Ed Sullivan PBS old school thing to get money for the public broadcasters, and I got to thinking about how inane vintage pop is.  I am in no way shape or form saying radio music now is better, but that pop really has always been quite shallow.  I know that I'm a heathen because I've never been much of a Beatles fan.  They have their gems, yes, but repeating "she loves you yeah, yeah, yeah" doesn't really excite my womanhood. David Bowie on the other hand, had a fair influence on my tweens.  He's just a good old, androgynous time. 

It intrigues me that society hates on comical music that later becomes a popular phenomenon, and yet holds cookie cutter musicians at paramount place.

Some too-good-to-be-bad pop phenomena need to be flaunted.  Love her or hate her, Honey Boo Boo could revolutionize Amurica with her fresh, very real, and surprisingly deep insight to being a child in the modern world.

 All the world's a stage, biotches.