im gonna sell you cats a bunch of jazz that youve probilly seen me wearin in my photos, yep.

id like to retract a few negative statements made in posts. yep. like, all of them. things said in jest sometimes can be read the wrong way, taken very literally, and that sucks. err, sucked. for me. but it’s my oversight, henceforth, i take it back.

i want you to know i’m not blogging for awhile. just because, ok. raymitheminx, the alias, is not the real me. she’s this girl-thing-person who said this, who did that, who lived for a short while and now remains a memory, all the free photos and stuff. from now on you can look forward to audblog sing a long karaoke personalised sing songs from her.

im bored these days. i take my meds. i dont drink and i dont do any drugs whatsoever and i havent for a long while. maybe thats the boredom but hey, i only want to be one ofthe kerouacs who doesnt drink and smoke emself to death by age of 47. i want to live past 20 then 21 and on and on and on.

please enjoy your summers. be happy be wise. be safe. be right. not wrong.

this is a store that i want you to buy all your online garbage from because i said so ok, thanks.

the little boy reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a dime. a thin

dime. and standing on his toes, extending his arm, was able to just barely

slide the coin into the slot. he carefully punched the numbers, one, four, one,

five, eight, one, two, five, seven, three…three.


“she’s in jail.”

“who is this?”

“this is raymi’s brother. she’s in jail. she needs bail money.”

“raymi the minx? is in jail? for what?”

“for being a wise ass.”

“they don’t put people in jail for that.”

“in canada they do.”

“i’ll send the money.”

yeah….that’s the ticket.



cock’n balls

i was mentioned in yesterday’s national post. sex tv is coming to the loft next tuesday to film me being a fat beasty hag for about 3 hours. yes. my mum might even be here that day too. raaad. i noticed that ive been a bit lack-luster with writing on this thing the last week or so. i’ve been very busy. ok these are all the nice things i have done. did:

go to ikea and spend 300 dollars, laundry, 4 loads of it, get the Mac 0/s thing running and the net going on the laptop and the Dell thing and install software so i can edit my videos and pictures off the pentax camera which also was extremely expensive. yah. then i put together the ikea furniture, two wood table/chair things and i will go back this week to buy a couch. i put this self-tanning thing on my body, from the body shop. aside from the splotches caused by my own doing, the tan looks pretty damn believable. i never have to go outside, ever again.

and then i did the regular hours spent in photoshop and sending emailsssssssss and making art.

i’m going to buy a glue gun today so i can start making those cute egg bunnies i wrote about on the shitty ebay page thing.

i just taught myself how to burn a cd of pictures. yay. now i can sell burnt cd’s full of pictures. that’s cooler than emailing them separately, right? tell me if you want that instead. man. technology is so fucking cool.

even i don’t know how to read my sarcasm thse days.

i’m a mess.

please email these fake flyers i am making to everyone you know, ok?

Hi Raymi,

I’m Anti’s ex-girlfriend. Not that one, but the one before that, the one who moved away and lives in Brooklyn now. He came and visited me in New York once and I acted like a total bitch went he wanted to look at all the graffiti, which seemed strange to me even then.

Anyhoo, he doesn’t even know that I’ve looked at his Blogspot. It’s not a big secret or anything that I’ve seen it, he would probably be happy to know that I’ve seen it, ‘rio76a3yh;t6yzvh e0o8r65q398. Blah di dar, a friend called me up and said “yeah, and there are these weird photos of some chick I’ve never seen before and she’s in her underwear and nothing else and it’s really weird.” So I immediately went to his Blogspot and clicked on the link that led to you and darling, you are divine.

It isn’t surprising that he says his friends “don’t get you,” and wonder why you are “so naked.” I’d bet a full set of Fiesta ware and the lint in my coat pocket that they haven’t read what you’ve written either. Not that your entries are based on explaining why you post the awesome fucking photos that you do, it’s just that frank, unapologetic femaleness, whatever the fuck that is, isn’t a hot commodity in that region.

Today was the first snow day, and everything in the city seemed muted and quiet and there was a bluegrass band playing in the Union Square station. I snuck the two-year-old I babysit for up onto the roof of his apartment building and we put pots and pans out to catch the snow. Later we had a snowball fight in his bathroom and threw them at the ceiling and the medicine-chest mirror and talked about how snow is white and made out of frozen water from clouds.

So, good job.

That’s it.

Okay, bye…

jack kerouac is my 3rd cousin. i want to outlive him.

i’m a recovering alcoholic, kind of. and a recovering weed smoking banshee. my next addiction is le cigarette but i’ll hang on to that addiction ’til some modelling agency doods gimme their fancy cards, you know. smoking will help me with my figure. which is better than ever. i look better than ever. i have heart attacks and the rest of my body doesn’t even know it. i miss anti. he’ll be home soon.

here’s me being a sad tard in my old apt. which i miss the shit out of but can no longer live there …bla tra la…

i plan to dye my hair black, tres soon.

k bye.

i am alive. sex tv is airing summa this blog stuff this weekend. i promised to give up to save my life, to save your life, to save the world and all that jazz. i was away. i am not a junky and i never will be. i have terrible nerves now, terrible paranoia and it’s all justified. that’s it in a nutshell. spend more time with your families, guys. i’ll drop a line here n there. look out for my book(s) soon, k?

love for you all.

i just want to be a supermodel now. and a rock star. and a ballerina/dance choreographer.

so hook it up.

oh and i’m straight-edge now.