So I have this new hobby. Drinking. Yep. I�ve decided to make it the primary focus in my life for the time being. No more cheap 6 packs for me. I�m gonna do it right. I�m moving on to saketinis, gin&tonics�Canadian Clubs n� coke�.anything that looks fancy basically, goes down the hatch. None of that cheap vodka for me. We�re talkin� about high-rollin� Stolichnaya. That�s right. If it tastes like gasoline � bring it �round. That�s my motto.
And the best part about drinking is smoking. A lot. Smoking of course, causes that bullshit cancer thing, but, whatever. Worry about that when you�re older and resigned to a life of old people activities. For now, you�re going to drink until your liver turns maroon and you cough up some tar. Cause everyone knows how boring nonsmokers can be. And annoying. Fuck. You have to accommodate for nonsmokers too with their separate rooms in restaurants and hotel rooms. Why don�t you all just turn on fire and burn like a witch. We hate you.
Anyhow, I�ve decided to drink because there�s not much else for me to do in this town. That�s really the gist of it. I have all the time in the world. Why not spend it getting soused?
The second best part about drinking is eating. But, you�ve got to be careful with this. You may only eat just enough to satisfy your palate. Otherwise you have a date with Ralph. You know what I mean. Right, so eating is great. Chips, pizza, peanuts – sweet lord. And then you can all agree to cook something like noodles or steak and the whole time you�re like man, I can�t wait to put all this shit in my stomach. Damn. And then after you do you get to have another smoke.
Dude, if that�s not heaven then I don�t know what is.
oh my god. being a bitch actually works, eh? now i’m gunna get more fun things in the mail. thanks guys.
on another note, i learned a valuable lesson last nite – don’t make your own martinis, eat lobster, have a few beers and a bloody mary, salmon cheese spread and a whole bunch of olives. You’ll barf your head off. I sure as hell did. fuck. I hate barfing so much. it’s quite traumatic for me. I cry and wobble around like an old lady and i scream. it’s truly horrible. you can’t talk to me either when i’m waiting to barf and you can’t pat me on the back. What sucks most about barfing is when you think the nausea is going away so you stand up and then it comes at you so fuckin’ fast and you’re like, wooooah and sit down again. At one point i’m like fuck this i am going to barf and i don’t fuckin care but then i start to wuss out and cry all over again.
anyway, i’m better now. i just haven’t eaten anything yet and i don’t plan to.
i was emailed this picture. it’s from nerve.com this girl looks like me. it is astounding. I’m actually going over in my mind if i’ve ever been wearing whatever it is this broad’s wearing or was so plastered i don’t remember having my picture taken. anyway – see for yourself.
last nite i decided i was going to dye my hair blond – so i bought a 7 dollar box of the crappiest dye ever. figures. Now I have a bright orange patch of hair right on the top of my head. i look like a frikkin’ rainbow. here’s me making my angryFace.
fuck you hair dye in a box.
so i got my origami kit in the mail that someone bought me from my amazon.com wishlist. it’s fun. why doesn’t someone else buy me something. yes please. here’s the link again in case you missed it last time. stupid. come on i’m bored out of my friggin’ mind over here…..christ. it’s not like i’m asking for a goddamn cadillac.
HEY RAYMI YOUR A FUCKING SICKO, BUT I THINK ITS GREAT, I JUST READ YOUR LITTLE TAKE ON PUSSY FARTS/QUEEFS., AND THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY STUPID AND BORING, AND I ALREADY KNEW EVERYTHING YOU SAID, AND YOUR DIALOUGE IN YOUR INTERVIEW SUCKS, ONE THING I DID THINK WAS FUNNY IS WHEN YOU SAID, A QUEEF, IS A “POLITE” LITTLE SOUND THAT COMES OUT OF A KUNT, THATS PRETTY FUNNY, LATER/
i am so damn lazy. here, read this. if u can follow.
Karaoke Raymi
I�m so obsessed with karaoke it�s ridiculous.
You�re probably thinking I�m old, pathetic and/or unattractive. You�re wrong. I�m actually young, hot and thanks to karaoke � completely full of myself. Yes, it�s true. Karaoke�s made a monster out of me – I walk around daydreaming about it for days, practicing my songs all over the house.
Karaoke and drinking, for me, go hand-in-hand. The goal is to drink just enough to calm my jitters which benefits my performance, overall. Though, I always, always, end up having one too many wobbly pops. But hey, it�s alright. Thanks to alcohol impairing my judgment – I go home every time under the impression that yes, I am the best karaoke singer to ever walk the face of the earth.
A typical karaoke nite for raymi:
*Go to bar, find table and order booze.
*Excitedly choose 5 songs and give them to person in charge of karaoke. Ask karaoke person how long the wait is before turn.
If friends with karaoke person then ask to be bumped ahead of other people. (obviously more important that other people in the bar)
*Chain smoke and drink until turn at the mic
*Get real nervous and insecure before turn at the mic
*Name is finally called to sing
*Sing song nervously, talking to the audience in-between verses. Beginning to feel like superstar
*Walk back to table staring at the floor, grinning like an idiot. Feeling embarrassed as shit but very proud of self
*More booze, more cigarettes, more songs
*Make friends with other karaoke singers. Compliment their singing. Accept praise in return for own performance. Feel more like superstar
*End of nite, promise karaoke person(s) that will be back next week
*Stumble drunk-ass home, congratulating self the whole way.
ok everyone i’m a big fat liar. not going to nyc. i’ve checked into my funds situation and have come to the conclusion that it’s not such a good time to go seeing as i’ve spent a ridiculous amount of money on useless crap – thus, don’t have enough to have a good time in nyc. meh. good thing is i got myself a job thing. i start tomorrow. i’ll write a special letter to anyone who can guess what my new job is. it’s not the radio gig, ‘cos that’s a volunteer position. anyhow. i’m around. give me a shout. it’s raining today. and it smells like fish. i’m right near the atlantic coast so on misty days like today, everything smells like garbage or rotting fish heads. there was this old sketchy bum-dude hiding behind a tree in our side yard last nite. he was trying to talk to the cat. it was disturbing. and funny.
alright i just spent too long a time trying to figure out the link to this greedy wishlist thing. i’m beyond frustrated & fed-up over it. i’ve figured out that when you click BUY RAYMI A PRESENT on the left-hand column of this blog, amazon.com makes the page jump to somewhere else on their stupid amazon site – someplace i don’t want you to go to because obviously you’re only suppose to go to amazon.com if you intend to buy raymi something. right? right. so in case one decides to look at my wishlist and see the things i want, you have to press BACK and that’s how you get to the friggin’ wishlist page. or you could do a wishlist search and type in my email rawkrawk@hotmail.com i ‘m too scatter-brained right now to make it work. feel free to email me some advice on how to make it go directly to the wishylisty thing. someone better get me something after all the work i did. dammit.
ok so i’m going to NYC tomorrow. yes it’s true. i’ll be hanging with my slutty friend Genni. i’ll get as many pics as possible of me and her together so you can see all the action.
i made sushi last nite. well, tried to anyhow. i’m the only one who liked it. it came out all ugly and sloppy and tasted like salty seaweed more than anything. it’s alright ‘cos i really like the taste of seaweed and other gross things. it’s perfect for a spaz like me ‘cos i make one on the spot, pop it in my mouth then i make ten more. it’s so easy. half-assed of course.
