dear raymi,

i bought marketable depression today because i’ve been enjoying your
blog for over a year now and that comes out to about two bucks a
month. this makes me feel like a cheap bastard.

even more so, i cant imagine being able to write about all of the
nonsense in my life and then being able to share that with others.
this takes courage and my little purchase celebrates that.


ok so i bumped the price down to $18.25 for all of your holiday shopping whatever. hey why don’t you like totally do a nice thing and buy my book already? there’s a good possibility that you are shit-talked in it and it’s like only a book about my real life and all the bad things that have ever happened to me, it only like, brought me to my knees writing it, what with dealing with the demons and pain of my past and everything, like FUCK!

ps you are not allowed to email me and give me a song and dance about poverty and credit cards.

so fil and i watched the hulk last nite, fil hadn’t seen it before so of course i had to tell him about stuff that was going to happen before it happened and he got super pissed at me and asked me if i was retarded or at least half retarded.

yes i am i said.

which is it? he asked.

it doesn’t matter i said, either way i am at least partly retarded.

i just can’t help giving away information during movies. during a beautiful mind i was so manic and uppity my ex-boyfriend practically strangled me and threw me against the wall cos i couldn’t shut up but that is an extreme example.

so yesterday at the coffeeshop i heard one of the girls say that she has a crush on one of the customers and she kind of looked my way when she said it and for some stupid reason i really hoped that she meant me and i don’t know why.

then i thought about it some more today and went over there dressed like a dirty old man complete with beige trenchcoat-like jacket and humongous lawn-mower sunglasses and the girl got all shy and stammery and couldn’t even look at me.

then i thought fuck it, it’s probably fil she lusts for.

pandora is great



average cost per page of new york times best sellers — 2 cents

cost per page of Marketable Depression – 21 cents

maybe you should rename it “Mark-It-Way-The-Fuck-Up-able Depression”

ha ha.



yeh well i only get half of 19.75
fine ill drop it a dollar
fuck you and buy it and then rave about it
im not trying to hype it up or anything i just know u will like it
its an actual book not some farty blog post fantasy crap

watched the shittiest soft-core porn last nite. anyway.

fil says: don’t put my towel on the floor. now it smells like floor.

then i said something that was very amusing and he told me to fuck off so i went back to sleep. i wish i could write it here, maybe i will email him and ask if i can.

he left me an old school nickel that looks like a quarter i wonder if i can pass it off as such at the coffeeshop.

i am experiencing chest pains.