go to Art System tonite. i’m go go dancing with coolhandluke. people will be smashing up crappy art and drinking beers and there’s a party room. fritz the cat is playing dj or something. i got all these press releases but they were too confusing to read. just go.
today it was all about fat and disgusting food booze and then a strip club tour ouf the city all before 5pm. wheee! i’ve seen enough cottage cheese thighs to last me a lifetime. yes. i. have.
—————–
Dear Raymi,
Do you have something against girls, especially me. I think you are
insulting all those female to get them upset.
I think you are a drunk, fucking Asshole, and I’ve read your story,
How to be a Drunk Asshole. At least that story didn’t insult anyone.
From
Willow
Um what exactly have i said to insult women?
and yes, i make it my personal goal, each and everyday to
talk shit about my own gender. in fact, i have so much feminine guilt i think i want to get a penis.
all my html link tags were stripped somehow so links on the lefthand sidebar thingy dont work. go to my archives if you are mega desperate to see what those links are all about. they work.
raymi: aim is for homosexual americans. i use msn. all or nothing. u nigger.
nigger: i wasn’t asking for your opinion, i’ll give it to you… nigger forgives you for being female out loud
raymi: you are only speaking to me becuz u want me to link you and get you a million hits
nigger: cunt, the only thing linking u to me is your penchant for flapping your fucking gingivitis gums in my email.. count to 8..when u get to ****nigger, shut your fucking silly hole.
raymi: you are hostile. i don’t even know why you are emailing me.
nigger: 1. i am ****nigger 2. you are a dumb bitch 3. you don’t know a lot of things 4. these facts will most likely never change
raymi: your audacity is just too much
nigger: if it was just enough, i would be prettygoodnigger
raymi: what a joke
nigger: if you were a joke, you’d at least have a punchline.. don’t give yourself that much credit..
he was indian and i was wearing a hat and that’s why i think we were searched at customs and then i was complimented on my hat and i treated myself to a vodka tonic with lemon and 4 packages of peanuts and read the onion and accidentally clicked my flight attendant assistance button a few times and the girl asked me if i had tobacco or alcohol to declare and i said only 5 cigarettes and some booze in my belly and she didn’t even smile. i asked if they took foodstamps when i had to pay the flight-rescheduling penalty. we almost got in a car accident and flew off the bridge. i was eating chips and jamie just went, unnnngh, woah. then we laughed and looked at each other in that, “oh my god we almost died” sorta way. i made a new special friend who is a real-life spy. he has two neurotic cats and eats healthy food. if raymi turns all soft on ya’ll, blame it on the spy. i hope i didn’t forget my toothbrush. i hope jamie’s roof doesn’t collapse. i hope the rest of my check clears tomorrow and the other one won’t bounce again. i hope i get a limousine.
i missed my flight. maybe on purpose. i dunno. i know i’m staying ’til thursday. i am all karaoke’d out. i swear if i hear one more I will survive i am going to jump out of a window. if i stay up one more nite with no sleep i’ll probably just die on the spot. and if i don’t eat again for 23 hours my pants will just fall off and hang out around my ankles like a homeless person.
all i know is i am going to kill the woman who sent me stickyrice in a cling-wrap ball and charged me an extra buck for it. that’s like, a dollar sixty or something, canadian.
knock knock. who’s there? Sarah. Sarah who? Sarah chair around here i’m getting tired of standing.
Ok fuckfaces, as you might have noticed things are a little bit messy on this site-thing, but, whatever, it’ll be sorted soon enough. it’s kinda hard being me, you know. there’s lots goin’ on. seeing old friends everyday of the week is exhausting, however, next time a party must be thrown in my honor so i don’t have to get miserably soused every nite until 8am. i think i need a holiday from this holiday. you know what i realised? Hole are making a comeback. Well, at least they are in this Williamsburg, Brooklyn apartment.
Nitin likes to be 8 feet tall and spin around in his trillion-dollars-a-month-rent gallery and change his records every three seconds and say, “i think we should finish all this coke and then go to sleep.”
I also like to pretend i do heroin with Jamie’s diabetes syringes.
I’ve also been receiving asshole emails from this nigger character whom i won’t even link and/or say real handle of. doesn’t deserve the attention. he seems to be a big fan of negative attention. his writing is tedious at best and his, yawn, livejournal just doesn’t hold my attention for longer than three seconds.
urrrrg, you guys don’t need to read that crap on the left-hand sidebar anyway. this is a sign. i must fancy up a new site. yessum.
so this was last nite in point form:
-karaoke, blu lounge
- met up with laura petrie
-drinking begins
-singing begins
-stage-diving, limbo dancing, trash-talkin’, falling off chairs begins
-freestylin’ insulting everyone in the room acapella
-realise you are vastly intoxicated
-walk out of blu lounge trying to be all charming and impressive to the boys, bring your drink for the road, get laura petrie to stand watch on her skateboard while you barf all over the sidewalk beside a dumpster.
-try to walk back all non-chalant but really, you’re zigzagging tripping over your own feet. you are so sexy.
Jamie is less hung over than me so he already put up some pictures.
Yah, i don’t think i’ll ever be doing drugs again. i don’t want my heart to stop and my tongue to be gnawed off and running off just twenty minutes sleep ruins the whole day. and, today would’ve been the nicest day to walk around baked (assuming i planned to continue with the whole drug-thing) in my old ‘hood. instead i hid in the tub for three hours and thought about the two mini panic attacks i had, one last nite the other the nite previous. both after copious amounts of durrrrgs. that shit just isn’t cool anymore. sure i can do crazy jumps in the air and tell amazing stories but, you know, it’s not worth feeling like a scuzz and going straight to drinking the next day after 5pm.
i’ve lost weight. the said-weight i’ve always told people i weigh, i now finally weigh that amount. maybe even less. that kinda rules. we have tons of footage from karaoke and me just walking around this apt. getting dressed and talking about karaoke and then in the cab talking about karaoke. i’m thinking of making a cd of my karaoke hits. but we all know this won’t happen ’til i have five monkeys doing everything for me. fuck, i’ve had this blog for three years and i still haven’t changed it over to raymitheminx.com – i have that gayass minxraymi.com site but that is just like, emptysville. i need to go bump into a nerd or something.
yah so i’m super-psyched to finally have a psychiatrist appointment lined-up for Wednesday, day after i get back to Toronto. i’ve been waiting since August. Can you believe that? I’m like, um hi, what if i jump out of a window before my appt. in November ? What the fuck then? Assholes.
