these works and more go see them at magic pony for yourself, it’s fun.
me: did u see how i am wanted for another music video
Phil: yes where is it shooting?
AND WHY DONT THEY WANT ME
me: dunno
cos i am cool and relevant?
Phil: why don’t you just dump me now and find someone who is cool enough
i am sick of not being cool
fuck it
i will be anticool
oh wait
i already am
ANTICOOL
me: aw baby
i love you
stop punching yourself
Phil: i am punching myself cool
me: HAHA
good luck
some crazy bitch is posing as me on myspace!!!!!!! go tell her off please.
ok im dealing with it i have to take a picture of myself and bla bla here is how i found out about it
I’m not some weirdo, but you may want to report this girl. She’s using your pictures.
Body: http://www.myspace.com/jennawantsyourass
She said she was from my town and a lot of my guy friends were like going crazy… But no one had hung out with her. Saw the painting and at the bottom it said “Raymi”. So I searched Raymi in the search feature of myspace and found you.
Just thought you should know.
Have a good one.
she has pictures of my niece of cid and of my fucking food taken from my blog even a picture of green room of my art of fil of sarah of matt good saying they are siblings! holy fucking loser.
Subject: CBC News: The Hour
Hey Raymi, Interested in having a four minute piece done about you and your blog for The Hour? If so call me or reply with contact info thanks.
If not, no worries, a jealous friend who blogs sent me a hater email
about your site but I really enjoyed it, especially your strombo
mention.
r. m.
HAHAHAHAHHAH yes burn on whoever who emailed my blog FUCKING SUCKER!
The mother of all embarrassing bodily trumpet music
Dear Raymi Thank you so very much for writing that piece.
For me, it happened last night. My boyfriend didn’t care but I’ve never even just farted around him, so farting with my vagina seemed even more embarrassing. After he and I read this, I feel more at ease and he still really doesn’t care.
So again, thank you =)
Carleen.
we went to lfk it was alright a bit dead upstairs a bit loud according to fil but he is old i think it would be a good place for a nerd blog party cos there are already a bunch of nerd try-hards there dressed in their finest I LIKE TO PARTY outfits to distract from their overall insecurities and lameness.
the highlight of the nite was giving the finger to this girl’s throw-away camera behind her and her two poseur friends fil was all WHO ARE YOU FLIPPING OFF i said dude they won’t know until they develop the film i’m a coward like that.
the second highlight of the nite was ripping out all my fingernails under the table. the vanilla ice movie was on. jeff stopped in for a couple drinks he was supposed to bring strombo with him but feh i asked if he drinks jeff said no i said well then why the hell do i want to hang out with him? oh right, fame mooching. speaking of that, look out ron sparks fans. in other news, k-os has dumped me and moved on it was good while it lasted?
i paid fil 20 dollars to not be a dick today, an OLD $20 bill at that, and if he does any dickitude today at all when we get home i am taking it back. so far he has corrected me a hundred thousand times and done other annoying things like right now he is tickling my head with one of cid’s whiskers he found. sigh.
i want to go to payless today to find some good old dyke truck driver winter boots nothing fancy. i had a nice pair that got losted somewhere, probably left them in maine. i am wearing them in this picture:
sigh.
pancaketuesday has a new video it’s called TOKYO MOM. it’s sweet.
we are going to this tonite if you are going too and have my number call me we will be the two awkward losers wearing saturday sweaters because we wear sweaters on saturdays, on other days too but mostly on saturdays, mostly. or you could just show up. pitt texted us earlier asking what we were doing tonite re: hockey game he finally got back to fil just now when fil said uh going to watch it anyway pitt is already wasted so i guess we won’t be hanging. good one pitt you could have had your first hipster party!
i am going to combine a blogger party with pink mafia/sport pig/lust for kicks so you nerds better start practising being cool START NOW. anna is the boss of all of them, i modelled some of her underwear once and she hooked me up with that major maker video gig i was in remember? click this then go to multimedia to watch the WINDOW video though i am a total fat cow innit so maybe you don’t want to do that. i do a total awesome fake wave though.
you might recognize anna from the video on trial show on muchmusic. when i first met her years ago she said she was a pop culture expert, totally on the money and wouldn’t you know it she’s on that show-thing now. she’s pretty hot too.
right now though we are finally going outside to eat and watch the toronto maple leafs.
3 years ago today:
after it happened she walked from room to room in the big empty house and lied down sideways on the couch all day long and learned when all the tv shows were on at what time and even the ones after that too and she smoked a lottttt and grew very neurotic and shy and introverted and spoke very little no more than a hmm and haaaaah and when she would speak to others she apologized for being very boring and having nothing to say and this is why she avoided people altogether and she grew very insecure and looked forward to sleeping, it being her only escape into another world a great form of entertainment far greater than television. then she began smoking weed again and making an effort to look pretty and talk more and stopped taking lithium and lost some weight.
man i am having major bouts of insomnia. i’ve fucked up my sleeping pattern by staying up ’til 5 or 6am and sleeping til 5pm. probilly my medication is to blame. the anti-depressants are kicking in so i lay in bed with racing thoughts and then i tell myself to stop thinking and then that gay thing happens where you’re thinking of not thinking and then u go to yourself unnngh i’m thinking of NOT thinking whatinthefuck is wrong with me? so then i think why don’t i just pretend i’m dead and shut off my brain. then i thought, fuck man, what would it be like to be dead, do your thoughts just stop or something? do you lie there and your brain just goes. mmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep like a straight line and u just like, lie around some more and stuff? kuz that would certainly suck. well maybe. to not exist anymore.
so now it’s like 5 in the morning and i’m still thinking of stupid scenarios of death and the like and i thought fuck this! so i went downstairs and took one of my brother’s nytol coma pills and took it with milk instead of with water like it said on the bottle (ever the rebel i am). it says it would kick in in about 20-30 minutes. great. more time to kill. so i read a bit, this book called pink slip by some wop chick, whatever, i already read it. and of course i’m worried that once the pill kicks in i may never ever wake up because what if i’m not suppose to take this little blue pill thing what with the medication i’m on. so i start to panic and worry more and the racing thoughts come bak again so i read some more and the little fucking pill is still not kicking in and i think fuck, if this is my last nite alive i should write some goodbye letters, but then what would i say, “hi i’m a retard and i think i’m going to die, i really appreciated our friendship and you’re really nice..tra la…you can have that pink shirt of mine you always liked. i love you. don’t be too sad. life is boring anyway.”
then i got this crazy idea to publish a whole book of fake suicide letters. wouldn’t that be cool? no. heart-wrenching and gay, i think.
so i finally fell asleep and dreamt i gave birth to a miniature little baby that was like see-thru and it started talking to me right away. it was a boy. i asked him what his name should be and he said mike and i said no way there are too many mikes in my family, in fact, too many mikes in the world already. and there was all this blood on my crotch, on the floor, everywhere. and all these people came in the room and started yelling and then the dream turned into something completely different and perverted. nevermind the rest.
so i’m still alive. yay. i dyed my hair black today. again. my roots were growing in. and i bought this fucking hot furry leathery russian winter hat thing yesterday, underwear, two shirts, and one of those eye things u wear to block out the light when u sleep. in the morning my room is so bright it’s like a fucking suntan booth. and there’s this fucking tree that scrapes against the wall of my house, right where my room is and it DRIVES ME COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE LIDJ;nesao rhesfreskjfnARRRRGH!
i also dreamt i got some bitchin’ tattoos on my arms. maybe i’ll do that soon.
bye.
this is from the stalkraymi forum.
Only dreamers want to become famous writers. Famous writers aren’t even that cool unless they are telling stories about how they messed up their own life. Think about this, all the cool celebrities you know are legitimately insane, substance abusing, heart stealing crazies, like Raymi the minx and Kurt Cobain.
Where as a famous writers whole life is just telling stories of what it would be like to be a legitimately insane, substance abusing, heart stealing crazy.
Eccentric is one step before insanity.
