I'm Wilma. Girl. No dragon tattoo. I love theatre, history, music that makes me orgasm and taking pictures. I split myself between two places (Stockholm-Tallinn), 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.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Adult points 500. The up-and-coming Black Hill

The news about my death are slightly overrated. I am fully alive and have been renovating my new home. Two months in a row every weekend (except fabulous New York) we have chilled at building supplies stores, looking at youtube videos "How to..." and actually managed to fix up our new place.

This goes out to all my ex boyfriends or other weird stalkers reading this:
I AM SO HAPPY AND MY LIFE IS BRILLIANT! My job is brilliant, my boyfriends is sexy, I own a home and my fart does not smell!
Okay, got that off my chest, now let me show you my home!


The Soviet era pearl taken into modern times
or
painted all the errors over with a extra thick layer:



The floor my generation loves and my grandfather's generation hates:


Special thanks goes out to Otti and Sons furniture company:


Beware! I'm planning to become the George of the Jungle, 
taking care of plants before babies:


Da lääonž eeria:


Game of Thrones + scented candles + more booze than should be allowed
=
a bloody perfect evening:


Play that funky music white boy:


Look at this hipster decoration:


And the area we actually spend time in,
I don't even know what are the other rooms for?


Adult life rules!
Waffles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
This is the original Netflix and chill moment:

Black hill is cool, yo:

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Fred and Wilma in New York. Part 3 of 3

Alright, one of the coolest trips is now over, we both were truly satisfied with this present. It's great to invest into Fred's birthday gifts that also I can enjoy, egoist much? 

New York is amazing. Go there. Eat. Drink. Walk. Look up. Enjoy.
Let's now wrap up this "Look at this stupid tourist" posts.


The coolest thing was that we lived in a orthodox jewish quarter and even the text on school busses were in Hebrew (yes, yes. not on this picture). Fred wanted to respond to the "Drivers needed" ad, but "Nah, Europe is cool, man.":


A quiet lite oasis we found in the middle of hectic Manhattan.
The sound gave me the special urge to pee though:


Me small,
city big:


I dare you to photoshop a penis into this picture:


The perfection of the rectangular Central Park gave me the chills:


I do recommend the view at the Top of the Rock, 
since you can see Empire State building and Central Park. 
Money well spent:



Jay-Z and Beyonce?
Noup, Fred and Wilma:


STAAAAAAPPP, horsey!



Mina kivikuningas,
sina sitalabidas:


The squirrels were deffinately doing some cocaine or MDMA, 
since they weren't afraid at all of humans. 
They basically jumped on your shoulder, looked at your meal and asked 
"So, you've finished with that?":


Instead of investing into fancy gravestone for their beloved who have passed away,
New Yorkers dedicate chairs and benches in the memory of their loved ones.
Please, do the same for me, it would read 
"That was silly that you died because you ate too much cake, but we love you.":


Look like he wants to kill himself after spending time with his girlfriend, 
who has been shopping in every museum store in the city.
I say shopping done right:


Ra-ra-ra-ram-ram-ramen!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!:


Our evening routine:
Ott, Fred and I + speakeasy bar + best cocktails = New York bliss:


American pancakes were huuuuuuuuuuge, I wanted to puke in the end.
Now I am just sad and drooling all over this picture...TAKE ME BACK!:



Then the snowstorm Stella hit us hard.
Best advice ever:



From warm spring weather we somehow landed back into shitty Estonian weather.
We were like fuck this shit, let's pack our bags and go home:


Look at this passionate trumpet player.
"New York - where zero fucks are given":



Goodbye USA, you were great! 
(despite Trump trying to make it even greater and failing so bad)


I'm the new Sinatra and since I made it here
I can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere

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,