so now i’m awake and it’s 6:30pm. darkness again. all over again. i guess i should sort this blog’s posts in sequence, what? a guy is over right now telling us all about joe millionaire and that joe isn’t really a millionaire and it’s pretty fucking entertaining seeing as i’ve just woken up from a string of nitemares and have rolled a few joints out of boredom. man, women and their visions of riches. i love it. ok i’ll write back in a minute.

i think i need to put on some music and maybe some clothes not in the bathrobe-genre.

maybe i need to write when i actually have something meaningful to say.

Dear Perry of Hello Toast,

you know i still fucking got it. that’s it. mega-after-three-in-the-fucking-morning supermarket shopping sweeps.

i regret not having e-mailed john roth like you at hello toast really wanted me to but whatever, i have had it with wrinkly old dinks and dusty prehistoric money. it’s like can i please not suck your old cock? can i please walk around your big, empty house with my leg warmers drooping to my ankles and fuck-me knees and raccoon eyes and scream at you for valium? no, really?

perry, i want you to tell me what is so patti smythwhatthefuck about me. ok?

i am not the right girl for you

send me the link to the first hellotoast blind date you did. you know i am going to be on this blind date show soon enough if i can stop living out my own requiem for a dream movie. we just checked to make sure that is how you spelt “requiem” and it is. IT IS!

oh and i’m being nice, by the way.

can you email me some food stamps? the cat says hello.

you know i think one of my favorite pastimes is being skinny, fancy and drunk and hilarious and walking to the bathroom every half hour to be alone and go durrrrrrr to myself on the toilet and when i get up from my chair my feet are wet and slippery in my old man shoes and then i might just fall down in front of everyone and go oh poo-haw, poo-haw to the room and then it’s ok.

i also quite enjoy late-nite food shopping sprees and figuring out what popcorn is the best and cheapest and bestest deal and convincing people we ought to buy some fucking Tide Mountain Spring although we ain’t doing no goddamn laundry for another week or two. patrons, cashiers, servers, homeless people fucking HATE me. ok so, we’re a fan of getting the last box of something on the shelf and we get stuck in snowbanks and we like to stay up ’til 6am and drink tonic orange juices and visit guys who belong in Lord of the Rings and if we immitate Gary Oldman in LEON -The Professional one more time it wouldn’t be too soon. you know the beads part and where he accuses that guy of not liking Beethoven and asks Natalie Portman what food is in the bag and she says she wants love or death and the glasses of milk and the ugly pig sister and the beautiful staircases in those buildings.

i talked a lot in a small room with a slanty roof and i explained a long distance phone bill in maine and a letter i wrote to Oprah Winfrey to get me out of a debt that wasn’t mine or i had any business in paying off and i used my hands to explain these things and i said, “Know your rights with creditors they can’t come and get you in the middle of the nite” and then we got magic mushrooms and tomorrow i guess you’ll know the rest.

raymi, the legion of…

I LOVE DONKEY TV

i want to go to the cheese shoppe right now and eat handfuls of aged gouda and this other mysterious italian cheese

and i want to wear my old man shoes

and old man hat

and say old man things

to other old men

i snuck into my ex-boyfriend’s room yesterday and saw he had a file called, “raymi is a slut” and innit were all these pictures of me

i was so baked so i left what was suppose to be a profound message on his desktop

i know others who live in that house

i didn’t actually break and enter

that would be crazy

it smells like nail polish right now

which reminds me, i wanted to put on some new nail polish

and watch the rest of the the professional

“You don’t like Beethoven”

i need to take iron pills or eat more or not eat less or get a job where being skinny pays off ’cause all this light-headedness is getting me nowhere but the kitchen floor. i’m not dieting, i’m just not really eating. much. but it’s SO h o t.

i have not weighed one hundred and tweny one pounds since i was in grade nine.

it’s great. i buy new jeans and after a week they no longer fit.

i fall all over the place and can’t do any laundry.

i’ve been a right cunt.

i got these campers-type shoes and i can’t stop thinking of them being cummed all over.

i’m dirty and i don’t care.

could be worse

i could be christina aguilera

ew

abner said this about me. we hated him at first but now we love him.

I find Raymi to be disgusting, awful and totally self destructive and self loathing. And I can’t resist it. It’s getting damned addictive. I must hit her site 2 or 3 times a day. It’s like being drawn to a beautiful rattlesnake. I can’t jack off to her pictures or anything because of the self loathing it would engender in me. It’s just that powerful. She’s a little girl and she’s a Mati Hari. She’s awfully ignorant and she is wise beyond her years. She doesn’t mind being ignorant and I don’t think she likes being wise. She can write racist comments and Tony will ignore them completely. Emotionally, she’s a complete mess and artistically she is very talented. She likes to fight and argue and she fears to love. She’s sweet and she’s vinegar. She thinks and talks about sex all the time but I not sure is all that active at it. She loves to display her body and receive allocades for it. She doesn’t want to fuck in conjunction with her art or in order to be sucessful. She’s deviant but she’s not a whore. She loves to entice men to write her and send her pictures so that she post them on pervert site. It is the worst blog no doubt and very, very compelling.

he’s a crabby ex army guy.

and then someone said this

I have not made up my mind about raymi yet. Is she starved for attention? Is her ego so huge that she must be famous? There is a pic of Jack Kerouac on her site now. She claims to be related to him. ok.

So, perhaps she is trying way to hard to be diffrent from Kerouac and i can understand why. People will have expectations. so she shatters your expectations completely and is nothing close to Kerouac. But, what we desperatly need in the world today is some Kerouac. So go with it. Do him proud. But dont insult or shame the name of Kerouac by being blatantly retarded……….

i have always had an inner script, before during and after reading kerouac. i read catcher in the rye 3 times before i was 12 years old.

i just want to say my words to people and i don’t want to be punched in the face. ever. i’m like a nice long, slow-mo car accident. we see the inevitible but we can’t stop it. just let it happen and stick around long enough to pick up the clutter.

if u have been sending mail to raymi@minxraymi.com please don’t do that anymore. that account is fubar – send to rawkrawk@hotmail.com – i cannot retrieve old bounced mails, by the way. sorry. my fault.

Dear Douglas Coupland

If I get up and out of the apartment before three in the afternoon then i feel really proud of myself. i have been unable to do anything before three in the afternoon for more than two weeks now. I haven’t even gone to the tanning salon! Can you believe it? I’m truly leading the junky lifestyle. we get up and we do deliveries and meet with people and then once we are finished we do our own partying. i just put together this BeyBlade toy thing and got bored with it after 2 minutes. i’m not even at my own place that’s why there aren’t any new photos up of me. i’m using a mac. i fucking hate macs. karla in Microserfs says that PC is for boys and Macs are for girls because you are able to move freely in your computer universe with ease and some other jazz. i forget the actual quote but i bring it up because i disagree with karla. Macs frustrate me and make everything all counter-productive. i had to use a mac when i worked for the women’s mag and i was assistant to the editor and i was manager of the circulations department, meaning, i had to dig and search through that fucking machine for files and tiny things and i could never ever find what i was looking for. ever. i was the only computer savvy person in my family and we only got a computer when i was in grade 6 and it was a PC. my parents thought i was doing all kinds of secret things down in the basement and stuff and i was. i was talking on yahoo chat to old men and setting up rendezvous with them, almost every nite of the week (when i was 16) and i faked accents and made up stories and all this amazingly interesting stuff. and it was mine, all mine, my life. i loved it. i loved saying that shit to my therapist and his blood pressure would skyrocket and i knew he just wanted to tell my mother everything and i said i’d do something bad.

anyway, that’s all behind me now and extremely boring. i met a few interesting characters and if only they could see me in action now, douchebags that they are.

i am angry at myself for not going to karaoke last nite. it’s been a rough week. k bye.

raymi

ps – i still think about meeting you or receiving an email from you. i tell people about your books and your words. and then i have to turn down the volume to the music. i put my hand to my breast bone and i pause and then i am ready to tell them what i need to tell them and even if they aren’t listening i keep talking and talking, until i am finished and a week or two later i get a phonecall or i bump into that person and they tell me they read that book and they loved it and it helped them.

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

i haven’t updated sexwithsmartpeople in eons because i got bored and angry with saying clever lines to boys from nigeria. but you can still go there. i think they even banished me from the site i used to round up these scumfucks. meh. i am SO clever. Laura has all these pictures up now of her in dumb wigs. they’re a year old but still pretty cute. she was covering up her cancer head. anti and her are having a love affair on her tagboard and i am jealous cause i don’t have one yet.

i’ve been a big fat jerk. i’ve been avoiding everyone. all three friends that i have. i’ve lost a whole day and i’ve lost weight. what happens when un-normal things become the norm? sure nudity and drugs and booze ’round the clock, throw in a cousin or two and maybe a car accident. i feel like a hot little 83 year old lady, well, rather i have the energy of an 83 year old lady. i have pictures galore but am in between being extremely unproductive and assbackwards lazy so gimme a day or two. continue reading raymi and laura and anti and jamie. yes yes. no.

ps those who make donations wil receive special exclusive raymi photos. booyah!

oh and i was added to this poll-thing a week ago or something but i was way too pissed off to mention or link it but i’m not angry anymore and i realise being voted worst means being the best. i forget but i made a comment and it seemed to make sense in the comment section here. and here is weis dude’s blog thing.

i guess i should explain myself. or this blog. the phenomena of it all. i receive roughly 400-500 hits a day. what’s that a month? 12k-13k, whatever i hate math. i never really paid any attention to other blogs, i never linked people and if i did i did ’cause they told me to or they linked me. there’s this big-ass blogging community and everyone hates everyone else and copies everyone else and it’s all very homosexual and mainstream now. i’ve had this clunky thing for over three years and now all the famous people have blogs. i’m not complaining, just telling you my observations. i’m a pioneer of blaaaaagging. i post at GTA bloggers and i never show up to their gatherings in toronto because i am:

a) too cool

b) ignorant

c) extremely high class

d) something

e) forlorn

f) am actually a 48 year old man with angina

and so on…

the truth is yes, i do want to be famous, i do want to walk down runways with stilettos and a big high ponytail and heroin eyes and i want to say clever things to reporters about toothpicks and olives and all that fancy fake important stuff and i plan to get all this in the most lazy way possible. so yes, this blog, my vehicle to importantsville. my pictures, my videos, my book, karaoke, my vaaagina too. you in your way, me in mine. i’m not closing doors and pigeon-holing myself. i’m not a good writer for a naked girl or a pretty good singer for a writer. i do it all.

so why don’t you tell me what i should do.