i missed my flight. maybe on purpose. i dunno. i know i’m staying ’til thursday. i am all karaoke’d out. i swear if i hear one more I will survive i am going to jump out of a window. if i stay up one more nite with no sleep i’ll probably just die on the spot. and if i don’t eat again for 23 hours my pants will just fall off and hang out around my ankles like a homeless person.
all i know is i am going to kill the woman who sent me stickyrice in a cling-wrap ball and charged me an extra buck for it. that’s like, a dollar sixty or something, canadian.
knock knock. who’s there? Sarah. Sarah who? Sarah chair around here i’m getting tired of standing.
Ok fuckfaces, as you might have noticed things are a little bit messy on this site-thing, but, whatever, it’ll be sorted soon enough. it’s kinda hard being me, you know. there’s lots goin’ on. seeing old friends everyday of the week is exhausting, however, next time a party must be thrown in my honor so i don’t have to get miserably soused every nite until 8am. i think i need a holiday from this holiday. you know what i realised? Hole are making a comeback. Well, at least they are in this Williamsburg, Brooklyn apartment.
Nitin likes to be 8 feet tall and spin around in his trillion-dollars-a-month-rent gallery and change his records every three seconds and say, “i think we should finish all this coke and then go to sleep.”
I also like to pretend i do heroin with Jamie’s diabetes syringes.
I’ve also been receiving asshole emails from this nigger character whom i won’t even link and/or say real handle of. doesn’t deserve the attention. he seems to be a big fan of negative attention. his writing is tedious at best and his, yawn, livejournal just doesn’t hold my attention for longer than three seconds.
urrrrg, you guys don’t need to read that crap on the left-hand sidebar anyway. this is a sign. i must fancy up a new site. yessum.
so this was last nite in point form:
-karaoke, blu lounge
- met up with laura petrie
-drinking begins
-singing begins
-stage-diving, limbo dancing, trash-talkin’, falling off chairs begins
-freestylin’ insulting everyone in the room acapella
-realise you are vastly intoxicated
-walk out of blu lounge trying to be all charming and impressive to the boys, bring your drink for the road, get laura petrie to stand watch on her skateboard while you barf all over the sidewalk beside a dumpster.
-try to walk back all non-chalant but really, you’re zigzagging tripping over your own feet. you are so sexy.
Jamie is less hung over than me so he already put up some pictures.
Yah, i don’t think i’ll ever be doing drugs again. i don’t want my heart to stop and my tongue to be gnawed off and running off just twenty minutes sleep ruins the whole day. and, today would’ve been the nicest day to walk around baked (assuming i planned to continue with the whole drug-thing) in my old ‘hood. instead i hid in the tub for three hours and thought about the two mini panic attacks i had, one last nite the other the nite previous. both after copious amounts of durrrrgs. that shit just isn’t cool anymore. sure i can do crazy jumps in the air and tell amazing stories but, you know, it’s not worth feeling like a scuzz and going straight to drinking the next day after 5pm.
i’ve lost weight. the said-weight i’ve always told people i weigh, i now finally weigh that amount. maybe even less. that kinda rules. we have tons of footage from karaoke and me just walking around this apt. getting dressed and talking about karaoke and then in the cab talking about karaoke. i’m thinking of making a cd of my karaoke hits. but we all know this won’t happen ’til i have five monkeys doing everything for me. fuck, i’ve had this blog for three years and i still haven’t changed it over to raymitheminx.com – i have that gayass minxraymi.com site but that is just like, emptysville. i need to go bump into a nerd or something.
yah so i’m super-psyched to finally have a psychiatrist appointment lined-up for Wednesday, day after i get back to Toronto. i’ve been waiting since August. Can you believe that? I’m like, um hi, what if i jump out of a window before my appt. in November ? What the fuck then? Assholes.
Sometimes, you are so fucking cool it hurts and when people stare at you with their eyes you just know their retinas are on fire and then they point and think, my god, so cool! And the bandwagon is pulled right up at your house and you jump right innit and wave to only a select few as you go along. It’s like jesus has told you a special secret and he tells you that it is your time to take it to the streets and you are like, ohmygod, finally. And all those fancy clothes are made just for you, and only you are smart enough to figure out what goes with what and you know, these days, your extreme coolness is so much that say, you could wear flip flops and a burlap sack and damn nigga, you is the shit. Man, even old people know you’re supafly. you don’t even have to wash your face or comb your hair anymore ‘cos when you wake up and put on your party pants, it all comes together, full circle.
oh right, you may want to check out my l’il photo essay on NewYawkCity to see what cool is all about. lots of traffic will make the page unviewable for an hour’s time or something. i really need to switch this all over to my own domain. one day, one day for godsakes i will.
Benny said his sister’s brother took him out once to get a hooker. she was pretty and forty years old. after she finished her job she stole his wallet. he didn’t understand. when he was born there wasn’t enough oxygen to get to his brains and thus he is mentally retarded. he has extreme separation anxiety and when i don’t answer his emails he takes it personally. He is on disability and he doesn’t have any friends. He needs lots of attention, even if it comes from people on the internet.
Monday, July 12th, 1993. 5:27pm – in the car –
I just came back from the grocery store: me, mom, brother, and my dad. “Will the Ice cream melt?” I ask my mom. “Yes. It’s melting now.” she said.
5:43pm – at the kitchen table –
When my brother goes swimming, me, my mom and my dad are going to the store: Queen video, to get two movies: a three stooges movie and another movie. (I get to pick that.) not.
6:37pm – on the couch –
me, my mom and dad are going to walk to Queen video because my mom isn’t going swimming with my brother. Then we will walk back (we’ll get the movies first.) to watch them. bye.
7:30pm – on the couch still –
We came back from Queen video. The movies we got were: The Three Stooges and Thunderheart. I have never heard of Thunderheart before. But, I think I’ll like it. We’re watching The Three stooges first. (Of course.) I got a Babs Bunny candy holder. ps. My favorite stooge is Curly. My dad says he is the first one who died. And he really is brothers with Moe and Shemp. But not Larry.
8:50pm – in my mom’s bedroom, on the bed –
I don’t feel like watching Thunderheart. So I’m watching Weekend at Bernie’s part one. I saw it already, along time ago.
