STALKRAYMI.COM IS NEW AND FRESHLY DESIGNED oops caps everything has been deleted sorry people but too many spammers got through and it killed my spirit to even think about it let alone ever visit it, so you have to re-sign up. also there’s a built-in mobile version for reading/posting from mobile phones.
also i’m curious to know something about your guys’s sexes.
The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888
here is half of my A-Z guide to dating dealers that vice decided to not want, enjoy. the other half will be in my next book.
GUIDE TO DATING A DEALER
I dated two drug dealers in my life the first one sold weed, the other, blow, and why did I do this? For the glory, that’s why, and the drugs, and for the love of party I guess. I didn’t NEED to be with these guys, I figured what the fuck and wrote it off as a vacation from boredom. Next time I will just get a better hobby, here’s why:
You have to appeal to a dealer’s fantasy of what a drug dealer’s girlfriend should embody, and that usually boils down to your ass and your attitude. Buddy thinks he is king of his friends and custies, so he wants a trophy to lord around, he wants his friends to want you but know they will be F’d UP if they touch, totally cliché and totally fucking true, in every drug movie you have ever seen there is the drug lady and everyone wants to plow her regardless if she is busted-looking or not, the fact that she is the dealer’s missus makes them want her MORE. Practically every friend and customer behind my bf’s back would give me horny eyes and be really into what I was saying and I got the if I fucked him vibe he wouldn’t rat, but then when bf walks back in the room I am ignored like crazy.
You have to be bitchy like a choke chain, especially to your drug dealer boyfriend – you need to right-away stand your ground firm or otherwise you will be his punching bag for the duration of the relationship. Despite it seeming scary the idea of lipping off a dealer, in actual sincerity they are scared little babies who constantly doubt themselves, their lives, everything, so you can get away with chirpin’ them all you want. The main point of the bitchy is to put custies in their place, and entertain your boyfriend to talk shit about them to pass time. A lot of customers owed my bf money and would get drugs on spot so my presence shamed them into paying up, in this case it is a bonus to have extra eyes and ears around.
Also, the business, bongs, blow.
Custies, what a dealer refers to his customers as, as a means to demean them, like his line of “work” isn’t the scum of the earth’s business. You will meet all types of people, many you would never give the time of day to in the real world, I am still trying to get the memory of their faces out of my head, greasy hair, garbage clothes, low-IQ city, slow, boring, annoying fucks. A lot of them are loner-types who schedule in their weed-purchases as hang-out burn sessions and you get in on all of it for free, always. When custies get high they like you to be there to look at, and they like you to laugh at their shitty stories. When they burn-out they go home, then more show up. Great. Your boyfriend needs you to double as the barmaid and bouncer, to get rid of them when they’re starting to feel like equals. Going on deals I got to see a lot of their houses, apartments, street corner hang-outs, the worst is when they have little toddlers running around or a crib in the living room and mangy cats. Eventually, sometime when your boyfriend is happy high he will refer to you as his partner, act really touched like you are pleased that your hard work is finally being recognized, laugh like hell inside your head.
Also, coke, duh, and clothes.
D-Delusions of grandeur
Both guys were pretty unstable but tried to appear otherwise. I remember as I was prepping to leave the second dude he was just falling to fucking pieces, he was having a mental collapse, a breakdown, crying and sobbing and hyper-ventilating on the kitchen floor. They think they own the world and the world recognizes their greatness and having cash laying around fuels the fire. You don’t have to be a dealer to be like this, it’s something you are born with and your environment and the people you surround yourself with either kills or feeds it. Selling drugs to people who are way beneath you definitely helps.
Buddy has a MASSIVE ego, based on insecurities of his past, so you know you’re in for the fucking funny farm. There is nothing scarier than an unstable person with copious amounts of self-love, see D. 95% of his time is spent trying to convince people that he is superior, wiser and far more urbane than them. Some of his custies have money, legitimate funds, and your boyfriend wants to earn their respect, and he attempts to do this by way of fashion groupie-ism. Sigh. He knows everything about designer labels because counterfeit merchandise dealing is also part of the biz, and you have to pretend to be into it too. I still have some fake Gucci wallets and LV purses. Barf. One time my mom rolled up with a fake burberry purse she got in NYC and my bf just took it out of her hands to inspect the inner-seam and stitching. He also called her a cunt on the phone near the end of our relationship. I sure can pick ‘em.
You will lose all of your friends when you date this guy, anyone with a brain will be like see ya. Think of it as a holiday. Some of your friends, the pieces of shit ones, will stick around to get the drugs-convenience spill-over though. Your new friends are custies/friends of your boyfriend, which is ideal because when you dump him, you don’t want to see those people ever again. My bfs thought we would be together forever, yes we had something truly special, dude, what we had was a co-dependent abusive relationship the foundation of which was based on drugs and money and being high all the time. You will see your friends again when it’s over.
If this is ever mentioned, you didn’t hear it, you don’t know what or where it is, the end. You will be privy to a LOT of information that if you weren’t stoned immaculate (snappy Doors reference**) could make you shit in your pants. As leverage, your bf will try to instill some fear into you that if you should ever leave him, crap about “certain people” finding you, blah blah, while vaguely possible, isn’t likely, you are small potatoes. Anyway, remember a few names or faces, but as more and more time passes after you break up, you forget everything anyway, and you move on. I was left alone cos it was obvious I would keep my mouth shut, I was baked the whole time anyway, and I’m not stupid. When it’s all over you keep everything quiet – it’s part of a code. How was it obvious I wouldn’t speak? I took a lot of shit, worthy of calling the cops for and charging both guys, but I didn’t. I never saw any grow-ops though, I’m just using it as an example.
The job of the pusher is to get you hooked on his stash to keep you blitzed so you won’t leave, cos then you get to thinking oh no where will I get dope if we break up, and if you weren’t high all the time you’d realize how much of a dick he truly is, duh. A dealer also relies on the addiction of his custies and you help him make drug time, fun time. You are what junkies picture in their head when they think of getting high, you have to provide them with a space and atmosphere so that they keep coming back and forget that they’re such aimless hosers. You know when you are out at a bar and someone says the word COKE or BLOW and you have a buzz on you IMMEDIATELY want to do some? That’s what I would do except it was more like hey come over and we’ll do ‘shrooms Friday night together then when I was blasted I would strip down to my ‘kini and dance to Michael Jackson for whoever wasn’t too fucked to notice.
I dunno, intelligence? Something you will not come across very much while you are dating this dickbag. You’re going to be doing quite a bit of dumbing yourself down, you know how you have had one friend your entire life and you barely hang but when you do you turn into someone else completely cos this friend is a total ignoramus and you bring yourself down to their idiot-level, yeah that’s you and your boyfriend and everybody you come across. We couldn’t find a lighter once and this chick said we could boil water and light our smokes off the steam, ‘nough said.
Also, itching, intimidation.
in other news:
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The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888
Ryan: oh yeah guy you said to write to wrote back eventually and said “cool any more cool stories?” or some such
me: yeah like they cant just decide and settle tell me what kind of story you want and i will write it im not a sorcerer
Ryan: yeah you can’t rush drunk moose riding genius
Ryan: oh yeah we jumped on a moose it was swimming probably shoulda told ya buddy
Ryan: in case we can’t be friends anymore cause we jump on moose up here
me: and do they attack you hopefully
Ryan: she was surprisingly calm about it after the first guy i jumped off before it got to an island or i would have got chucked around like a muppet well they think we’re stupid look
me: meeses think you are stupid?
Ryan: no youse guys the meeser drink all night bai
me: that chick is studying sociolinguistics what a loser
Ryan: it made me inspired to study sociolinguistics you loser
me: how about being inspired to get a life
Ryan: sociolinguistical life maybe k im pullin yr tailfeathers i have a life i watch water it’s my job water and water accessories
me: really? do you piss a lot
Ryan: i can start to piss, light a smoke and be done the smoke before the piss
me: jesus why dont you make a bunch of hipster art and then have an art show in toronto every 1/4 year and be rich and famous
Ryan: sometimes you just really dont wanna break the cork
me: doofy scenesters would think you were a legend with your retarded stories
Ryan: it never occured to me but okay yeah the tourists from down there are easily amused by like all of us
me: milk it
Ryan: norval morrisseau already tried i thought
me: who the fuck is that
Ryan: ok my first exhibit will be called chuck a piece of shed moose horns on the fire to ward off mosquitoes that is a question for omniscient google
Ryan: i’ve never been to toronto it sounds fun
me: you remind me of the movie gummo when you speak to me
Ryan: that doesn’t help me i didn’t see it should i speak faster?
me: see it and then wait for the wicked burn to kick in
Ryan: i’ll just call you a hippie now then so i don’t feel so bad later don’t you have felt friends to groove with sister
me: i gave up on those pieces of shit take way too long make my back hurt sell them for like 20 40 bucks
Ryan: how’d they pull that off say fil made them and then they’re instant indian artifacts for 40 and 80 bucks
Ryan: seriously that shit can work i sold a HOT DOG STICK raymi 10$ me: a hot dog stick? the only appeal is that when i am dead or more famous that person will than have something worth 300 dollars and i get screwed
me: the second coffee touches my lips i am going to be in the bathroom for an hour
Phil: ew for so many reasons
me: i said jill for your benefit from yesterdays pain remember when my face got slammed in the cab yesterday cos i was trying to yell out the window to samir who didnt even hear me stefan did tho my life sucks and my knee is scraped i may as well share this on my blog
here’s what happened, our cab was cut off as i was leaning out the window screaming down the street at samir a happy birthday and the cabbie slammed on his breaks and my face smashed into the back of the passenger seat like in cliche movies and my knee got scraped on the midle armrest and the cabbie apologized a lot and i’m like no biggie but then sensed that i could get some sympathy out of the guy so i said well my knee is scraped in my oh shucks voice and then he apologized some more and lipped off the other car then me and fil had to act like it (me) wasn’t (isn’t) embarrassing, well i had to act like i didn’t care and fil had to pretend he didn’t know i was acting like i didn’t care. i am never saying bye to anyone ever again EVER from a cab i am not that guy who can pull it off even though i tried for a long time, that guy is someone else. sigh. jealous.
oh and my butt hurts from excessive wiping, that’s all.
and don’t be mad at me and make me feel worse about it fil did a shot of tequila and i didn’t yes that settles this!
i just went and stuffed in a thousand things into ONE washer, separating is for insert european country here, anyway this woman who is always doing laundry when i roll up was down there and using three machines, the rule is two, rules are stupid anyway, but the point is, three machines for a small amount of laundry spread out over three, when i am stuffing a ton of shit into one, my entire load tripled hers. so i am using the one closest to the door and her laundry cart was in my way the whole time and then when she moved to go she looked at me to move out of the way, i ignored her and i am pouring detergent into the cup like i am supposed to move while i am doing that? (neither of us said hello to each other when i entered, we used to but gave up on pretending we like each other) and so she loudly pulled it out to let me know that i am a bitch and had to push it around the table BIG DEAL right, well passive aggressively it is a big deal, because i won. i was so close SO CLOSE so close to saying oh you are using three machines? but i didn’t want her to think my point was about the laundry room rules, when actually my argument is about the conservation of water (she also had hot water instead of warm or cold) but i let it go, i figured she wouldn’t get it, no offense europe but you don’t exactly give a shit about saving water when it comes to laundry, it’s all a bottomless luxury and you feel it’s owed to you well you act like that anyway i can see it in your FACE! (yes i am totally generalising here based on the oh 200 european parents i have come across in my life), also, it was like a territorial thing too, she was like ahHa i have claimed 3 machines what are you going to do about it? she also looked me up and down i saw through the corner of my eye and i just bent over in my short shorts like a fuck you hag. the silence was tense, loud tense angry silence she was so waiting for me to say something.
so, should i go leave a note tack it on the corkboard or tape it to her machines or do nothing and wait ’til next time?
i looked inside all of them too and everything was the same colour so no need to separate.
oh i bet she will be an even huger asshole and use all four dryers too and she was loudly jangling her ziploc bag of quarters as she was leaving, her life is laundry.
honest ed’s soldiers. fil said if i blogged these i have to say that they depress him and make him want to kill himself because eating them is so white trash. yeah he’ll change his tune come saturday morning when his espresso is all irished up.
i got you in my sights ignore that whatever syrup glob.
recycling, let it pile up nicely this time.
haha honest ed’s we were like 99 cents wicked!
The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888
i made fil a leftover lick’s burger and by made i mean toasted the bun nuked the patty and gave him some pepper brie on top best idea ever.
then he accompanied me on my sashimi adventure to criticize everything about how i eat and kept stopping himself then starting again. that black dude had an earring and a bag from the silver snail and had really loud opinions about microsoft, he reminded me of the black guy from the first season of the real world, the angry cheesy guy who fought with everyone and made everything a race-thing when actually everything was about how aggressive, argumentative and irritating he is. fucking shut up. no, it was about his earring!
and THIS cheesy blond curls chick on the right ungh she looked over at me and rolled her eyes when i swizzled my chopsticks together to get the slivers off, my ritual. it was loud for like two seconds and totally distracted her from the shitty conversation taking place fuck you we are in a fight now! she was wearing tacky wedding high heel sandals and a coral pink dress with swirly mystical garbage design. the other lady paid for everyone and was sporting a long librarian dress ew. i would kill myself if i was at their table.
starvlor! do you know what it is like to prepare a delicious hamburger on an empty stomach and then watch someone else eat it?
THEN IT STARTED RAINING! looks like the previous owners got out just in time.
i told fil i was in a sadness so i was having sake talk to the hand.
oh what a surprise making fun of my pinky AGAIN it’s called genetics you stupid dick.
this time i got sashimi supreme, for a dollar more you get 17 pieces which basically consist of that octopus and a few extras.
i gave fil the whatever is seared fish i don’t like it, peppery seared excuse me but i ordered sashimi not a steak.
sticky nerf paddle ball anyone?
the salmon was so perfect yesterday i am a full-blown lesbian yes, days i eat sashimi i can drink all i want and the next morning no weight gain.
oh how nice that the ceiling rained last nite during sashimi time for fifteen minutes.
i stuck it out anyway because i am rock and roll like that.
The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888