Hi buttholes!

I prep SG sets, $75 a pop. 48-hour turnaround. Previews and thumbnails included.

sharon@sharondavies.com

I'm at my 2nd day of my new job - retouching for Playboy.com.

There's a titty bar next door to my office and I just found out that it's closed during my lunch hour and it's making me sadder than when Mufasa died.

I finally made a FB page for my photography: Sharon Davies Photography

LIKE ME

WHY WON'T YOU LIKE ME??!



instagram: @sharondavies

Yesterday was my best friend's 30th birthday so I surprised her with a trip to the tattoo parlour.

She's a lifelong Cure fan:





And I got one too!



Smashing Pumpkins have been my favourite band since I was 12, so I finally inked my virgin skin.


Yay!! No regrets!

I love scary stories. I love horror movies. I love Halloween. When unexplained things started happening in our new home, I immediately concluded that it was a GhOo0OoOOooOosT!!

I've never experience anything like this before, and even though I'm a total goofball, I know that generally, I'm a very rational 30-year-old woman. So take this with a grain of salt. It's all in good fun.

The first day I was all alone in the house, I started thinking that I was seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Flashes of lights and shadows. I never ever had that sensation at my old place. It happens from time to time, but not this often. It was like every 10 minutes that I was turning around looking for something or someone behind me. When Brad got home that night I asked him if he was experiencing the same thing. He told me no, and that I was being retarded.

He remained a skeptic until a few weeks ago.

The day after Halloween, Brad, our cat Bailey, and myself were in the kitchen and we heard a huge BANG. One of the night tables in the bedroom had fallen over.




It had fallen over face first. The lamp was on the floor about 6 feet away, unplugged from the socket. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK.

I usually work from home, so the following workweek I was home alone with the cat all day. I would hear strange bangs, dishes shifting in the kitchen, and knocks on the walls.

Bailey's shitbox is in the basement but he REFUSED to go down there. He would just poop and pee on the floor upstairs. One time I tried to carry him downstairs and he panicked, started squirming and crying and clawing at me to put him down so he could run back upstairs.





Brad's sister brought her new dog over one Saturday afternoon. She had him for 3 days. He's a total sweetheart. We're chilling in the basement when the dog starts growling and barking at a corner. "I've never heard him do that before."

One night the lights in the bathroom went out and we had to rewire them. I don't know how any of that shit works, but Brad was very confused as to why they all went out at once. Even HE said it was weird.

In early November, I took a photo of Brad wearing a Snuggie. (PS - We have 3 Snuggies. Suck it.)



Do you see the face under his armpit? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. I've checked the whole area where the face appears and I can't find any explanation. FREAK-AY!

About a week later, Brad shoves me awake at 6am. "The TV is on full blast." It was absolutely BLARING, I don't know how it didn't wake me up. So I shuffle to the living room to shut it off. I was all groggy and I didn't want to turn on the light to look for the remote so I just pressed the power button on the TV. Later that morning I go and investigate. The remote is on the coffee table, under my camera bag. So even if Bailey was fucking around in there, he couldn't have turned it on by stepping on it. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK.

A few days later I was chopping onions on the kitchen counter and the cupboard in front of me opens and a plastic water bottle falls off the top shelf and right onto my head. Ouch. Also: WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK.

In late November, I'm lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Brad is passed out. All of a sudden I hear him shudder. A deep, almost violent, involuntary shudder. He's propped up in bed, eyes wide open, looking straight out our bedroom door. He tells me he just had a dream where he was lying in bed looking out the bedroom door when a blonde woman in her early 30's walked by our door down the hallway. Then she turned back and stood in front of our door, and looked right at him. She didn't look happy. Then he woke up.

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!!




Nothing has happened since Brad's dream. Bailey is fine with peeing downstairs now and he even comes to chill with us down there when we're watching movies. No more bangs or knocks and nothing has fallen on my head. Much of the phenomenon that I've experienced can be attributed to a Poltergeist (things falling over, noises) but a Poltergeist is energy attached to a person, not a place. My theory is that there is SOMETHING in this house, and it was disturbed by us moving in. It's just taken a little time to get used to us.




PS - I still don't like to go downstairs by myself.

PPS - I know there's probably an explanation for everything that's happened but it's way more fun to pretend there isn't.

I shot a couple of covers this month:



My girls Shaine and ToriGaelle were kind enough to model for me.

That's my tree!!! (I love my tree)

That's my onesie!!! (I love my onesie)





Filmmaker Mia Donovan with Lara Roxx

I haven't been shooting or posting much lately. Lots of shit has gone down in the past few months.

• My cat got really sick and almost died. He had an inflamed liver and he spent close to a week in the animal hospital. It was pricey as hell. The vet didn't do much, besides tell me that "he has a shot in hell." After 36 hours of being back home he was almost completely back to normal. Fuck you, vet.





• Someone tried to burn my building down. Yep. There's a random dude who stalks around the neighbourhood raking garbage off the sidewalk and yelling at jaywalkers. We nicknamed him George due to his uncanny resemblance to George Carlin. A few weeks ago he broke into the basement of my building and set a bonfire in the abandoned strip club. Now his nickname is Bag of Shit.



• No one was hurt in the fire, but it really scared the shit out of me so I decided to move. After eight debaucherous years, I have vacated the 1830. I thought it would be really sad and emotional but as I closed the door behind me for the last time - no tears, no nostalgia, no regret. Good riddance!




• Now I live in a house in NDG with my boyfriend. We have three bedrooms, a gigantic kitchen, a fully finished basement, a laundry room (complete with a working fireplace - WTF) and a garage. I am literally doing my very first load of laundry in my very own house as I type this. Now I can wash my sheets more than once every 6 weeks. They get fucking filthy - I eat most of my meals in bed.




• Oh, and we have a car now too. It's a 2002 Hyundai and it's totes badass.



• Because we moved on November 1st, I totally missed out on Halloween this year. Heartbreaking!!! I scraped together a shitty leprechaun costume at the last minute. I am ashamed, and promise to gore-out like a motherfucker next year.

Here's some random shit. I just got the iPhone 4S so I'll be posting a buttload of vain self-portraits. Sorry.

TEQUILA FACES






























And the winner is.....




















pre-tequila

Barry "the man" Walsh (for the Montreal Mirror)