I'm Wilma. Girl. No dragon tattoo. I love theatre, fashion, music that makes me orgasm and taking pictures. I have split myself between three places (London-Stockholm-Tallinn), but my current hub is Tallinn. Wherever my circus goes, there's always a party. If the party does end, I watch cat videos and blog about it all. Check out my yearly summaries below to get to know me a bit better. If you have any questions: hemafruu@gmail.com.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Fred and Wilma in New York. Part 2 of 3

This time greetings from Europe! We just landed at home with a bit of a jet-lag and are just minutes away wallpapering our living-room in the middle of the night.

I continue to ramble about our New York trip (click here for part 1)
this time it is all about this boy and his birthday:


On Saturday snowstorm Stella got closer and closer. That heartless bitch was cold!
I wore all the clothes I packed with me:



I love how practical New York fashion is = no show off.
(Please take note Londoners and buy tights, nobody wants to see your blue chicken legs.
NB!NB! Tights are not jeans!):


The boys and I went to taste the Impossible™ burger
which includes plant-based meat and dairy products made without animals. 
SO THAT WASN'T MEAT I ATE?!? *mind-blown*


The Snow White and elf Dopey:


Our encounter with Guggenheim was short because after we saw the long queue (2-3h waiting) 
we left to grab a beer instead. #classy:


Boys tried their hardest, but eventually it was I who bought some vinyls.
DJ Wilma Circus (shortly DJ WC) proudly welcomes Destiny's Child and Beyoncé to her collection:


Just wandering around aimlessly gave us so much joy:


Empire state of mind:


The view from Ott's apartment, yo:


Then came Sunday. The holy day. Fred's birthday.
Jesus was the first one to gratulate him:


Brooklyn knows what is up:


And suddenly wise words appeared:


Pretty fly for a white boy:


Fuck the rest,
that boy is the best:


The impotent dream:


Dis no train tuh Aegviidu, 
dis is a New Yawhk metro, son, like:


The face you make, when you see couples making out:


"Let's go and eat some ice-cream, dawg!":


Too...cold...can't...use...the...force...
(I didn't even know that I can contract so many muscles on my body)


Shooting the new video of Tommy Cash:


Speakeasy = illicit liquor shops or drinking clubs during the Prohibition Era. Nowadays it means vintage bar with secret entrance and cocktails made with classic ingredients.
This was completely undiscovered world for me, the hidden bars of New York. For example we had to go through a barber shop, while people were having their haircuts and completely new world waited us at the backroom:


This gentleman at the bar was checking me out,
I gave him my number and we went home together:


Fred, the older you getter, the better you get.
Unless you are a banana,

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