i almost want the bruise to appear now. in writing it down i dunno it’s like i am a fucking wizard and i so know what that crack on the arm is gonna lead to whereas every other bruise that appears, not a clue. ever. so far though, no bruise. lame.
oh and mcd’s almost made me ralph last nite (thank god for pepto pills) so won’t be doing that again. i still feel like shit. i made a video about how i have no indigestion, or remorse, i don’t feel fat and so on guess there’s no point in posting it. next stop, burger king.
i’ve had zero nutritional intake o’re the last three days, unless you count kidney beans in chili dip covered in cheese thicker than house insulation. therefore nothing is sticking to my body. skeleton party yeah!
what else do you want to talk about i had other non-important things uuuuuuum. friday already you don’t say eh? what’s going on this weekend?
three yearsish of no mc’d’s down the drain all for you! no not for me. ok maybe a little. gotta say, don’t see what the big ethical deal was. i mean this’ll surely be the first generation ever that will definitely not evolve to outlive their own parent’s generation (despicable really)(and truly fucked) not to mention how equally evil blah blah blah the man fast food wal*mart etc yawn snore. so here i am what’s the big dealing everything these days. JOIN ME!
ok so J maudlin (guy who beats my mom for longest most preachy comments even) inquired/posed the following:
If you write non fiction, and the subject of your writing is, for the most part, you, and you become the “product” (in a way…) that you are marketing, and if part of what you write about is your wild child free spirited explorations of life, including the dope and booze, and if your readers become sort of attached to that “story”, well, you see where I am going with this.
Therefore, may I humbly suggest you experiment with some fiction writing. In this way you can protect yourself, sort of thing. Thanks for letting me park my comment here. My hands are still cold, but I think my heart is marginally warmer…
Buuuuuttttttt, what I really wanted to know was about writing: fiction vs non fiction, making ourselves the character (autobiography) as compared with creating characters that, of course, are attached to who we are. It’s the writing, Raymi, that has legs. By the way…no need to put this up on comments, right? I don’t want to stir up the shit, I just want to be a bone head keyboard cyber tapper killing the time, normal style, trying to relate.
i know that i made myself a product here (so to speak) more or less. it’s the raymi show, we get it. so given that, am i allowed to be annoyed when 50 people tell me what to do everyday? within this little (big) sharing circle i’ve created, it’s a toughie, double-edged (whatever metaphor you feel most comfortable with) thing yes? because this isn’t a link-dump blog i don’t drop articles and then we all discuss them. i write about myself and show my life via photos instead, and that is the subject we all discuss. me. yet i’m not a celebrity (debatable) website either, meaning, i wasn’t famous before this blog so therefore require an internet domain to keep with the times. i am the times. oh god look at the pretentious turn this just took.
i can’t write fiction for shit. every single story i write ends up being about a fucked up depressed girl in pilgrim dresses. or some slut. or something drug-related. something about something that happened to me once. i don’t know how to do anything else, basically. admittedly. my only skill is relationships, feelings, emotions. people. my big mouth. everything that comes with people. stupid advice. every single up to the minute thought i have is my skill. burden. one ryerson student during my talk asked what’s next, why fame, famous for what? being famous? why the drive to be famous, just to be famous? i talked about my book which i can’t (or shouldn’t, rather) discuss here but she definitely got me thinking. a little defensive too. is there a point to fame? why do i want it? why did i want it more like. i kind of forgot.
when i was 19 during the first wave of blog phenom attraction, i recall thinking throughout that insano period of my life i better smarten the fuck up, buckle down and write about it more. you can be a complete mess all you like as long as you have something to show for it. as long as you produce something. no one around me was producing a thing. i surrounded myself with scapegoat artists, addicts, fuck ups. i was the success standard. HA. what a laugh. so with no one to compete with i just kept dickin’ the dog.
applicable and only nietzsche quote i know and often drop:
be not too liberal, it doth belong; to dogs alone to fuck, the whole day long.
if this is the most narcissistic time history has ever seen, what the hell is the next phase? when does it all overflow and backfire? when haters outnumber lovers? where is the movement, moving toward?
when i set out on my blog journey i never once foresaw a shit-movement. i never thought it would or could become news-worthy, omg girls on myspace taking pictures of themselves! what? i can remember a time when people said what’s a blog? so fast you were already back to listening about the mall. things have changed.
i’ve never been good with fiction you can see right through it and you can see right through my shit lying ability too which is why everything in here IS and always has been truth. in fictional writing attempts, without fail, a friend will relate each character’s personality to someone in my real life and will refuse to believe otherwise even if they’re wrong. especially if they’re wrong, actually.
it’s harder to open up the more readers you get. you over think the simple. thinking gets in the way of everything. if you have the ability to write without thinking then you are lucky. you should just do it then press send.
i wrote this on the back of an envelope on sunday.
it’s fucked up to feel damaged. to feel that way about oneself for no good reason at all. to feel marked. to feel poorly, though in actuality you know that you are in fact a good thing. it is also a means to disentangle oneself from unsavory situations. by claiming to be damaged goods you can veto yourself right off the market.
as i wrote that i was annoyed by how if i just wanted to plunk that down i’d have all this explaining to do. i don’t consider myself to be damaged goods but i do feel damaged sometimes. i remember being terrified by depression, feeling plagued by it. ok dark turn post time ha. yes marked. feeling like they could put you away for anything. for being difficult. pretty scary shit. hysteria. this woman is hysterical send her away. more so, in terms of finding a mate, i felt like showing sadness was a no-no. i am ashamed of my sadness still. embarrassed by it. if i cry i apologize profusely it’s the old-fashionism in me. i do not reveal this part of myself as much as is possible here. i see mental collapse as the ultimate trainwreck, more so than a drunk blog post or drug references.
i have no idea how to end this or what my initial point was to be other than justifying smoking pot and talking about it on my blog once in awhile. by the by, this post was written entirely un-high.
it’s to a point now where blogs essentially are entire persons. that’s crazy. good thing. never before this point in history did such a thing exist, entire catalogues are available to you of one’s life story. it doesn’t need to be defined because it is the definition in and of itself. people are storytellers oh look there’s a blog i’ll get on that. why stop?
inspectin’ tour. how did you describe the bathroom again alicia? hotel bathroom? with all kinds of things to check out and play with?
yep yep lookin’ good all clear here.
hair vortex. she was like how did you even get this couch it belongs in a bar.
snoops.
heheh.
christmas town.
chili dip town. see our disney princess advent calendar haha. after we wolfed the dip alicia was all have anything sweet? i said we can eat the calendar. didn’t happen. thinking about it right now.
i swear i stopped drinking.
ran out of ikea tea lites had to dip into the xmas stash.
they make my heart swoon. well, made.
just ate this again right now. diet of champs! so much for post period skinn-ay.
check out my moms.
that ring is broken. no tracks were spun.
best broil yet.
too much cheese if you can believe it. it was basically lasagna thick.
shit yeah.
not enough candles. they’re not even all there either haha.
scrabble cards rules. cards scrabble? oh whatever. you can get crazy high points.
a math lesson.
eventually attention spans got ‘tarded so we buddied up on teams.
my brother said i look like brendan fraser in encino man. i agree.
the last time my face broke out all hot and my ears got super red was doing jagerbombs a few years back. you can’t really tell through all my makeup though i assure you that shit was hot and beat red.
totally burnin’ up had to press a cold brew all over my face for a bit.
going for more of a dewy look these days. paha. hypertension is sexy.
double and triple word booyah! have fun doing blasted math.
Ryan (omg it snowed there!): hahah yeah i can’t tell if i’m funny or crazy today
but aw thx for the cyber shoutout
me: yeah if u think its crazy and I think its funny that means its funny
and vise versa
Ryan: haha fine line sometimes it’s a swing and a miss. today it’s like who and what’s next though
me: but do tell me when my shit is funny it is of the utmost importance
!ALSO! calling all vain/old/tired lookin’ broads (who blog) trumpet horns blaring: i have a sweet offer for one lucky lady. you have the choice of a free facial, botox treatment, cellulite something or other, hair removal etc basically anything PURE med spa offers (within reason). i’m going for a facial and teeth whitening. maybe botox down the line, who knows. all you have to do is email me a reason why i should choose you. PAYCE!
this goes way back to my mom’s purple velvet with the broken lock jewelry box. don’t think she knows it was in the xmas bins.
here’s some more movie quotes. these are from funny people. i will capitalize them to emphasize their over-all hilarity.
YOU’RE NOT FUNNY. YOU LOOK FUNNY. BUT YOU’RE NOT FUNNY MAN THAT SHIT IS SAD.
MY NIGG** HOW THE FUCK YOU IN SHOW BUSINESS WHEN YOU GOT NO BUSINESS TO SHOW?
THERE’S NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT A PHYSICALLY FIT MAN. NO ONE WANTS TO SEE LANCE ARMSTRONG DO COMEDY.
speaking of funny, last nite i was on a roll. do you think i can remember one goddamn thing i said? capital newp. ok back to funny people, i really liked the thanksgiving dinner scene when adam sandler gave that speech to all the younger”s” and said that it would be the one thanksgiving they would always think back on, cherish, dinner with their friends. i wanted to transcribe it actually. i think funny people is sandler’s best work yet and i admit i was pretty damn dubious about his relation to the current judd apatow/seth rogan comedy duo, somewhat bandwagon jumping – do you remember that notorious little-known quote by liam gallagher, ever-jealous competitive rival of one damon albarn, blur’s front man and raymi’s old personal swoon-fave back in grade 7…i digress, fuck this is a point within an already loosely related-point ugh anyway liam said regarding damon’s newer project Gorillaz, “park the bandwagon out front of my house and i’ll jump right in.” something like that. jealous dick. ok so i thought sandler was keenly aligning himself with apatow, and rogan will yes man any shit these days so i was apprehensive, therefore, pleasantly surprised with the film once i took in how not shit it is. AND it’s dark, who knew? the thanksgiving speech stood out for me as adam mentions his own comedy pals he’s fallen out of contact with (one thing about this film is it is hard to separate reality from fiction, i think sandler references a lot of personal truths) some who aren’t even alive anymore (farley, sigh) also there’s a lot of archaic footage you’ve never ever seen, stuff like seeing himself on mtv for the first time. i feel like this was maybe his way of showing the world what it’s like being him. probably reading into it a little much, possibly. possibly not? who’s to know. i haven’t bothered reviewing a movie in a long time that i haven’t been paid for. i haven’t been moved by anything in awhile, lately, to be honest. i haven’t read a book in months. this post was supposed to be a bunch of scattered photos and phoning-it-in one liners.
here are my anxieties for the day/week/month/decade:
i have a formal contract to sign, i need to get it signed (but i can’t til i discuss it with a lawyer first just not to be an idiot about it or anything) so i can start book deal shopping.
i am losing my tan.
i am going to require botox for my forehead from permanent furrow lines up there.
i am both excited and stressed for xmas.
heard some good news today i can’t share, trying to figure out how to vaguely describe it. it coincides somewhat with the book i am writing, dunno how that happened unless it got around what it is i’m writing about. it has to do with tv i will say no more.
bonjour bhmagazine. thanks for putting up a photo of me pissing by that tree on your front page and then saying all this (see 2) about me:
C’est le blog de la semaine pour le coup. Elle s’appelle Raymi aka Lauren White et elle se défini elle-même comme une « tastemaker, bigtime blogger ». Elle a un compte youtube aussi ou elle se filme en train de danser.
Alors nous en France, nous avons Thomas Clement et le Canada a Laurent White. Sur son blog elle parle de je sais pas quoi j’ai pas lu et elle illustre en se photographiant, on peut la voir limite topless là , un téton apparait quelques pages après, elle est en string de profil malheureusement ici et elle fait pipi contre un arbre aussi. Enfin bref personne ne porte la salopette comme Lauren White. Meilleur Blog du monde de la semaine !
Je vous mets une de ces vidéos (il y en a d’autres notamment ou elle danse sur wicked messenger repris par Black Keys mais on dirait une dingue, ou une nana qui fait de la danse moderne. Surtout qu’elle habite limite dans un trou à rat on dirait un peu Patric Dills, bruns les cheveux longs qui danserai dans sa cellule, avant quand il était encore en prison quoi.
Cette vidéo ne convient pas aux mineurs selon la communauté Youtube, c’est un cadeau de moi à vous les jeunes puceaux.
http://raymitheminx.com/
babelfish spat out this:
It is the blog week for the blow. It is called Raymi aka definite Lauren White and it itself like a “tastemaker, bigtime blogger”. It also has an account youtube or it is filmed dancing. Then us in France, we have Thomas Clement and Canada has Laurent White. On its blog she speaks about I do not know what I did not read and she illustrates while photographing herself, one can see it there limit topless, a nipple appears some pages afterwards, she is in string of profile unfortunately here and she makes wee against a tree too. Finally short person does not wear the overall like Lauren White. Better Blog of the world of the week! I put one of these vidéos to you (there are others of them in particular or she dances on wicked messenger taken again by Black Keys but one would say a nutcase, or a chick who makes modern dance. Especially that she lives limit in a hole with rat one would say a little Patric Dils, brown the long hair which will dance in its cell, before when it was still in prison what. This video is not appropriate to the minors according to the community Youtube, it is a gift of me with you the young virgins. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsSDK8Ib-k0 http://raymitheminx.com/
run dmc came on the xmas jam mix so we decided to do something about it. very intimate dinner party appropes. can’t hear it in this video though so use your imaginations. guess you had to be there. my brother and i are (were) the only grandchildren on my dad’s side and therefore are now the only niece/nephew (aside from hailey whom would be a great niece) so we were forced to entertain one another growing up during weekend family visits, despite not getting along at all (we’re cool now) and being hyper-spazzoids. basically, any chance to act out was acted upon. relentlessly so. we’d beat the shit out of each other in the backyard, whip balls and lawn darts, wrestle, anything to get attention, get reprimanded through clenched smiles and then start it all up again. fun times. i wouldn’t trade having a brother for anything in the world.
