junk in tha’ trunk
oh for shame there was a typo in my last post and i left it up there for ages. fuck nig. awesomest word of the day. i’m such a fucking recluse. i couchsurf my ass off. read shitty old books from my gramma’s library-thing and play with my dad’s slot car racetrack and accompany him to raceworld to talk to geeky fags with no teeth in the jewiest part of town. i talked to ward yesterday. ward rules. if you don’t know who he is you’re a loser and a half. ward works at ibm now and hangs out with this crazy confused foreigner packi guy who’s a big perv and talks only about fucking. my kinda guy. anyway some broad gave ward her resume to bring to ibm and on his way to doing that he managed to spill water on it so the ink smudged all purple and smeary-like, sit on it thus crumpling it to shit and spilled coffee on it too. YAY ward! hmm what else is new in the exciting world of raymi??? oh yeah i gave my self a stupid haircut, my bangs actually. i cut them too short. it looks like i put a friggin’ bowl on my head and snipped straight across. my dad and i went grocery shopping the other day and we sampled this hard boiled egg thing on a cracker and the lady was telling my dad how u can buy ‘em in packages and shit and they come all ready boiled tra la la and then my dad goes, “that’s an EGG-cellent idea!” har har. maybe i will win the lottery this friday. maybe not. now i will go play alchemy until i die. oh and i’m sad now that survivor is over. now i need another show to be obsessed with. any suggestions?
lets blow this popstand.