it has come to my attention that more than half of my readership are learning-impaired, and that’s ok.
allow me to explain to you what MODERATED COMMENTS actually means.
this means that when it comes to the publishing of comments I am LORD EXCELSIOR and you are peasants. your comments are not displayed until i go into my haloscan account and MODERATE THEM ie. APPROVE them. so after you type something and it disappears it does not mean that the internet gobbled it up, it’s merely in limbo until i am able to approve it.
now this doesn’t mean that you have been banned and it’s nothing personal, everyone has the same rights and/or privileges when it comes to commenting.
i have chosen this route because some people have gone a little overboard in the commenting department, mostly every comment is approved so type away.
now check out this business. i don’t know what to say about it. i am half-amused and blown away. get yourself your own buzznet account too, you can upload all your shitty boring snore-a-thon videos like me!
we met my dad for lunch today then had band practise then went to my dad’s to retrieve some art and some other junk i own that i never look at or use and books i have read 20 times over then we had dinner at fil’s mom’s and watched afv. we watch afv pretty much every sunday because fil is old and i wear diapers.
i want to clear something up but only now i will do it half-assedly.
I AM NOT CRAZY.
it’s endearing to read on people’s blogs that raymi is crazy but less and less these days, now it’s just irritating. you know when yer talking with someone on msn and yer sharing a laugh and then it goes too far because the “meaning is hard to determine because it’s in type” – FUCK THAT. if you cannot understand the written word and the meaning behind it then you are a fucking moron and the same goes for blogs, blogging, scrabble.
i write stream of consciously, that’s how i talk, that’s how i am. i am ADVANCED the opposite of slow and if this makes me crazy compared to normy normals and “all over the place” what-have-you – fine.
bi-polar doesn’t mean crazy. it’s a chemical imbalance predominantly stemming from depression.
i’m “arty” “creative” “hilarious”
if i were crazy i wouldn’t have the capacity to maintain this piece of shit weblog for 6+ years ok. i’ve done the crazy been hospitalized thing already so i’ve earned the right to fucking say and do as i please.
i’ve spent days on end with certifiable schizophrenics and delusional fucktits, now THAT’S crazy.
writing bleep blop bloop on a blog and saying MEOW MEOW MEOW every ten minutes is NOT crazy.
when fil slides all his clothes hanging up to my end of the closet i punish him by putting my big box of q-tips in his bathroom drawer.
raymi: you know when you shove your clothes to my side of the closet and forget to push them back over to your end i punish you by putting my box of q-tips in your bathroom drawer.
fil: oh
fil: i get it
this has been going on between us for weeks and only i’ve been the wiser of it.
i wrote a song it’s called i have one arm and it’s about me.
so metric was fun lower-case f style last nite, well, metric lower-case f fun, everything else capital f fun. we were spotted by ten million people all falling over themselves to buy us drinks. yes i drank but not a ton. i will drink fridays and saturdays only and maaaaybe sundays.
i notice that i get very very generous with my benjamins after a few drinks, i bought fil a metric shirt. holy retard-undeserving-of-lor.
that’s grego, don’t worry he is more ugly in person. heh. i know this guy from highschool. he messaged me on mysapce awhile ago and i’m all yo guy i know you and you know my brother and so on. he and his lecherous perv friend use to hit on me in the hallway and i one day went up and was all DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!? and then dropped my brother’s name and they were all woah jokes jokes.
greg said if it wasn’t for my brother then he’d be at the concert with me and not with this Px character. ha ha.
courtney saved the day by claiming our last guestlist spot. yay.
deb FINALLY has a website! for her jewellery! she makes it! explosion!
it looks pretty rad, pieces of copper and metals that she takes a torch to i dunno and blows holes through them and some junk. who wouldn’t want to buy jewellery from a hot skinny pretty lady who freaks out on people in her loft-building’s hallway who are wasted at 4am, go deb! you can kick me in the head anytime.
