Sorry i haven’t written you in awhile. i’ve been a bit busy. i haven’t been replying to emails or updating my blog. it lends (can i use the word “lends”?) me great anxiety to not do these things. i don’t want people to not come back here if i don’t update regularly. i’ve been getting myself into a nice little ball of debt. i want a credit card so i can get paypal and then sell things to people. like my journals or my shoes and stuffed animals. i like to share. you keep things in your life for a short while and then you let them go. nothing in this world is permanent. except maybe for styrofoam.
i spoke with many nice people last nite at the underwear modelling gig. it was hip hop nite and we confused the regulars. i wore nipple pasties and a thong and dirty sneakers. we video-taped it too.
i want a new job or another job or to never work again. i just want to go out and stay in a lot and have money and have money and have money. i think i am bipolar or manic depressive or whatever the hell it is something that’s wrong with me. i can barely work, you know. it’s hard. my work hours are very minimal but still, i am there and after a couple hours i have to leave. and then i go somewhere and spend money.
well anyway, i have to think about what i want to do today.
go to y2k lounge tonite and see how drunk and uncomfortable i am in nasty underwears.
Thursday, October 17, 2002 3:27pm
I�m about to have a serious major fucking nervous breakdown.
My internet never fucking works now.
This shit cat keeps meowing.
I am so baked.
All I wanna do is listen to this cd I just got (Bombay the hard way) and my fucking winamp cannot read the thing and my cd walkman is out of batteries.
The heat is on pretty high too.
Someone is going to be stabbed real soon.
Fuuuuuuuuuuck.
4:23pm
I have just decided that I am NOT going to work today!
I do not want to go outside in the cold so I won�t.
And there is a good possibility I won�t sing with Coolhandluke at the hooch tonite. I am all delusional and stoned.
Disillusioned, more-like.
I just wanna bath and to lie under my blankets.
I feel sad all of a sudden.
I fixed the internet and I got my cd player working but the cd is not what I expected. I was thinking of this one song Sarah use to play at the VICE store in Soho and I can never stop thinking about the song and I don�t know who it is by or any of the fucking words.
hi darlings. i bought a sailor’s hat yesterday. and some creemore beers. and i did some designer speed. hmmm. not much else to tell you. i’ve been watching you watch me.
ok so here’s the deal. i’m in the process of producing/filming/crafting raymitheminx videos as well as scripting treatments for broadcasters. first and foremost i think a series of several films will be done and sold online. like a raymitheminx show. all the shit you read here but now you can have a stupid video in your very own hands. yeh yeh. so tell me, do you wanna see it or not? whatever. right now i’m stockpiling a bunch of raw footage. being drunk. karaoke. my dumb friends. tanning salon visits. sueprmarket porno…. and i want you in it too. like tomorrow evening for instance, we’re bringing the camera to y2k lounge on wellington to get me in my gotchies and nipple pasties and walking around loaded and you can come and see for yourself that i’m really not as obnoxious as you think. sure. so any involvement would be greatly appreciated. i’d love to hear what you guys think of me, don’t even stroke my ego. i’m a fucking boring loser. is all. and i’m going to take this mo’fo by storm.
go to this. i will be there. modelling underpants and a moustache. don’t be a faaaaag.
i got this chapstick that tastes like the back of stickers when you lick them. december 10/00 12:34am sunday – everything’s blurry and sketchy. 7-12 lying facedown on the livingroom carpet. face imprinted with fluff. body numb. body exhausted. we are all born already fallen. i hate your neighbor’s dog. so hungry i could eat a packet of sugar. july 3 2000 Knightsbridge, London – short attention span. today i’m going to write the worst piece of literature and i’m okay with that. i can’t believe i flew all the way to the U fucking K to learn how to write. in room 1206. nice view the elevator does not go up to the twelfth floor. we get off at the eleventh and walk up a flight of stairs. all the toilets are retarded. i need to buy stamps. together we go mad. the water only gets hot if you pull on this string that hangs from the ceiling. i saw canadian geese in hyde park. the irony astounds me. i must purchase flip flops and peyote. everyone thinks we’re american. i did K and my legs went paralyzed. i just want a fucking month-long fling. these vicious one nite stands are so crap.
oh my god i just flooded my entire fucking basement arggggh!!!!! fuckds
so i haven’t showered in awhile. do you think people are tired of seeing my boobs? went to the titty bar last nite and spent a jillion dollars and tried to get strippers to hang out with us. we were the most obnoxious fucks in the place. yay! i stole a pair of red mesh underpants today. and i bought new sexy red sheets. i am a sexahol that never has sex. believe me? no. i was going to be on this panel-thing tomorrow for muchmusic but i am not a lesbo feminist so they don’t need me blabbing my mouth off about jlo’s vagina and aguilera’s cuntyness. speaking of which, i am surprised we didn’t get slapped last nite. we were the meanest, most critical people ever. we booed like every girl except the one who gave us an extra lapdance grind and hooked u up with some other stuff. last nite reminded me of laura petrie and how she likes to give away all of her money to smart strippers.
my life is trash.
fuck, this page takes hours to load. i will fix this. maybe.
i was waiting for the streetcar today, after my psychiatrist appointment and i overheard two girls and a woman with a walking-cast on her left leg, talking. one girl had pink hair like that pink girl and she was very rude to her mother and she radiated tons of attitude. it was disgusting. she spoke of being buzzed and other dumb things. i wondered where she lived. i wanted to tell her not to be mean to her mother and then i felt bad for being rude to my mother, and anyone i had ever been rude to. i was drinking a coffee and the sun was shining and it was on my face and i hated it and i loved it. and then i remembered that the tanning salon is closed on mondays.
now i am home in my room and it is all pink because i put up a new curtain and the sun shining through gives off this nice hue. like a boudoir. a boudoir for kindergardners. wait, how do i spell boudoir? whatever. that word is not important, anyways.
i hope you are being as human as you can possibly be.
Hi. I miss you. Do you miss me? i bought all families are psychotic a little while back but i am not finished reading it. i’m in the middle of reading 7 different books. some are these pamphlet-type things my psychiatrist gave me about depressive illness and bipolar shit. i’m seeing him tomorrow. i’m glad because i went out tonite and i wanted boys to talk to me and none of them did. this one guy had camouflage pants. but i’m glad he didn’t speak to me. i wanted to be close to someone really bad. anyone. i’m mad that i don’t have an email address for you or a phone number or a snail mail address. perhaps by the time you are 60 i will finally speak to you. i want to be your protege. really. sandra told me you were gay and i said no way and that it doesn’t matter.
several book reports in highschool i did on your books. generation x and microserfs. do you know how hard it is trying to explain to highschool tards the simplicity of your writing? really hard. i am related to jack kerouac. yah. i compared big sur to on the road and no one understood me but my teacher. it’s like trying to explain that feeling that christmas decorations and christmas lites give you and the feeling of christmas, in general.
like scrunched-up euphoria and happiness in the pit of your belly.
or a slip ‘n slide when you are 7 years old and wearing a new fluorescent bathing suit.
why don’t people approach me?
Never give out your password or credit card number in an instant message conversation.
anti says:
shit i love falling alseep in all my clothes
r le minx says:
hahahaa
r le minx says:
me too
r le minx says:
i do it all the time and then i got out wearing the same clothes from the nite before
anti says:
we gotta get you this douglas guys email!
anti says:
pronto!
r le minx says:
i know!
r le minx says:
i love him so much it hurts. my friend of a friend of douglas couplan says i am going to scare him away. but what does he know, he says. oh well. if it was meant to be, than it was. if not, oh well.
hi. hello. i have started writing this letter to you, in my head, over and over. and then i have stopped because i don’t know what i want to tell you. i feel i have to be as concise as insanely possible. i wanted to tell you what you mean to me. i wanted to tell you that i have read microserfs almost 12 times. do you ever reread books? i do. but only the ones i really liked because they speak to me. i write down passages in my journals, i write them on bathroom stalls and i repeat them in my head over and over until the words become my words, something i’ve said.
see, i can’t even finish this letter to you. i’ve been smoking weed all day, pretty much. i bought a mirror and a pair of shoes and i went splitz on the bill for breakfast. a late one. at 4pm.
