here’s me being a drunk slut in NYC, soho/lil italy. i just finished bartending and i am trying to figure out if we should go to another bar or go to the grocery store and buy me some food. whenever i bartended i’d be wasted 30 minutes into the nite, then i’d drop things, walk real slow and yell at people. i believe we ended up going to the supermarket and then got my drunk-ass home to bed.

this shot was taken in august, note the short hair. that day i was stopped by two british broads and they asked me all about my outfit and what i felt my “fashion sense” was and yadda yadda ya….they wanted the opinion of a true New Yorker so i went along with it and rattled off a slew of meaningless, long-winded answers about oldskool versus newskool and vintage and modern. i basically spoke a lot about nothing, they took my picture and left. it was a hot day and i was trying to find a liquor store. then i got stopped again around the meat-packing district to be in the background of this jeans ad or whatever. i had to make like i was running, in a hurry. they re-did the shot many times, i finally lost patience and walked-off. meh.

i’ve just realized that i swear a lot. And other people are noticing as well. like every other sentence has an “f this” “f that” “shut the f up” and it’s like i can’t stop doing it. i am embarassed. my vocabulary is now reduced to that of only a handful of cuss words. i swear in front of old ladies, customers, your mother, important people you’re not suppose to swear in front of…..Jesus, how do i stop? perhaps i’ve Tourette’s Syndrome? and why not? i already suffer from plenty of nervous habits and ticks amongst many other ridiculous compulsive things i do on a regular basis like twiddling my fingers, picking at my face, counting all the letters in words of sentences to figure out if the sentence is odd or even, you know, basic nervous habits. ffuk.

shhit.

ok i change my mind. i like Krismus. but only because i like toys and i still get some for Krismus so… anyday that i get toys is a day i like. i have hello kitty stickers all over my face and hands, i have put together and taken apart mister potatoHead a million times and i have had one very prestigious and serious tea party with my niece. sigh. i am contemplating whether or not barbie’s SUV can handle a flight of stairs.

now everyone is out at xmas mass. i am home alone

1. too cynical to go to mass

2. non-believing

3. going to hell anyway

4. drunk

tomorrow is another story altogether. god help us.

dysfunctional family + alcohol + christmas = 4 months of therapy

hurray. figured out how to get my archives up again, so u click on that little link thing and it brings u to a separate page, all nice ‘n fancy then u get to choose which archived month u would like to read from.

this is how cool i looked with my short little dyke haircut. i am so cool i am like all orangey red and glowing and shit. hehehh.

i’ve been playing a lot of Candy Land lately and i almost always lose. it is driving me insane. i cannot defeat and conquer this fucking measly little board game made for 4-8 year olds. ARRR. i think i’m cursed, that’s gotta be it. for sure. u see the thing is with this game, there is no dice, it’s these dumb little color cards u flip over and then u advance on to the next color square. it is not at all complicated. In fact, a blind, deaf, dumb lunatic could figure it out and THAT is why i am so fuckin’ pissed off everytime i play the effin’ game because i never win! Not even when i cheat. the only way i can justify losing over and over again is me being cursed or jinxed or hexxed, one of those weird spooky bad luck things. damn you candy land damn you to hell!

one more thing, go to emergeworld.com ‘cos i am like their “it girl” writer, scroll down a bit and you’ll see a picture of my face, click it and all these dumb pictures will come up and old article things you might not have seen before. it’s kinda dated but whatever. look anyway.

so this is me in pagoda-head fashion. some fucks say i look like that colleen whore from the first survivor

sure

it’s been pointed out that i make a special face for when i try on hats. like i purse my lips and tilt my head in this gay little fashion. that’s my “i’m putting on a hat” face. or when i am dancing i make this, “i am dancing” face where i scrunch up my nose and squint my eyes. it’s suppose to be sexy. hmmm.

i took a spill yesterday. i was running toward the car unawares of this huge curb-like thing on the passenger side so i end up running into it full-force, creating this magnificent faceplant into the cement curb thing, dumping my bag under the car, bashing up my left knee, left elbow (which spurted blood) and left hand. and of course i cried like a four year old. everyone laughed at me. you’d be stupid not to. it had been awhile since a blunder like that. too bad you weren’t there.

a wanky site talkin’ about how wanky raymi is. pshhhhhaw. these guys suck, all they do is look around and feature other people’s shit. hi, lets make a website but not have any creative input whatsoever. yah yah, great idea. anyhow, the negative attention intended by this site actually backfired, my inbox is having orgasms. full of positive support and all that warm fuzzyness. thanks wanks. by the way, raymitheminx.blogspot.com will be looking fancier very soon. it’ll be minxraymi.com and’ll have a messageboard, community, more features, and more writers. so if you wanna be part of my motley crue, lemme know.

wanky suck my shit bitch website featuring raymi

old fucked up train from 1923, off some ole dirt road in NH. That’s me being pretentious in the aisle.