A – Archives dude, check ‘em. i’m a goddamn pioneer and i bet if i was a yank i’d have a career somewhat as fabulous as kathy griffin’s by now. moreover, i haven’t given up on you yet.
B – BLOG. i let you in, guys. do i have to? no. should i? perhaps. a friend recently commented that the blog is dead and i instantly reacted a little defensively but then we talked it over for a few and i guess i see her point. the blog for YOU is dead, for me, isn’t. get it? thanks to me (and sorry for that) tons of little slags are out there sayin’ it like it is cos they think raymi did/does it they can/should too…was basically the gist of our booze-fueled chat.
C – Concise. i keeps it clean yo, no verbal diarrhea here. except for when there is a 78 word run-on sentence. point being, i know when/how to dumb it down.
D – dick jokes? i like that i say all i ever blog about are dick jokes and pictures of my stupid outfits yet where are these dick jokes? i use dick jokes as a description of my blog to strangers, it’s supposed to stand for more than what it is. alas, being more professional is one of my ’09 resolutions so i’ll have to come up with something new.
E – existential as in, there will be absolutely NONE of that here so piss off.
F – FUCK. most frequently used, favourite and most loathed word and reason why this guy is nsfw likely aside from the alleged pornography your mawfuckn’ IT dept. sums this shit up as and blocks.
G – goal setting. none of that here either to your benefit.
H – Hats. i like them and wear them (not far-reaching at all now).
I – Ignore – if you are a crazy fuck i will ignore you so give up.
J – Jew jokes – got any good ones? kidding. J is actually simply for ‘jokes’ cos a sense of humour is the only way i can protect myself from the crushing weight of the sadness of the world. seriously now, depression = comedian. if i had the nards i’d do stand-up.
K – Ketamine. one time after a nite of drinking in england i snorted some then when i got out of bed my legs were paralyzed for 3 minutes, i fell to the floor and rug-burned my knees. oh wait i meant to say i have a painting of kites available for sale that i will probably paint over.
L – lauren. that’s my real name, but my parents decided to pronounce it all funny on me without changing the spelling so my entire life i have been irritated by my own fucking name, grand. it was super popular in the 80s though i didn’t know one lauren in school. then when i spent a stretch in oakvegas i met tons of laurens, all blonds too, retarded.
M – moronic. sometimes i can be this way and not give a giant fuck, also a defense mechanism in the self-loathing department. you should try it sometime, rest those nerves of yours. honestly, no one cares what you think or what i think or what any of this means in the grand scheme of things, which is why you should just blog and get over yourself.
N – nose. i got a big one and have been teased for it for forever and i’m over it, only on the internet do people really go to town about it, in real life no one even notices or cares. i guess when you run out of real things to rip someone apart on you attack their looks. i know i have a nice unique face, interesting beauty. so basically, shut the fuck up you scallywag, let’s have a go at your appearance? in school i was called big nose all the time, oh man all the time and you know who called me big nose? the dumb kids, the simpletons, the ones who have amounted to shit all, the equivalent to online trolls. empty vessels make the most noise, true and true and true.
O – Oprah. i have made a point to not watch oprah, i’m at home “telecommuting” (really i am) and i feel extremely depressed for myself if i turn any of that daytime tv crap on, especially oprah. sidenote: oprah is only allowed if someone is over watching it with you. i told myself that at 4 o’clock i have to be doing something, anything, other than watching oprah. sometimes you think oh i feel blue today i’ll console myself with oprah. more like NOprah don’t do it! you will guaranteed feel 60% more depressed for watching it.
P – phil. i love phil and you have gotten a gander at his life on top of mine thanks to this glob. here’s a thing though, we’re not a two-fer, stop thinking you know us more than you do, nah’mean, cos you don’t and just cos you got the one guy (me) doesn’t necessarily mean you get the other. it isn’t a rule that you have to add him to your facebook, it’s annoying in fact. fuck off my boyfriend you know? just because someone is accessible online doesn’t mean you should scramble on after them. that being said, phil is also the breast.
Q – Queefs. i wrote this when i was 17 and i still get funny emails about it the best one ever though was a mom searching online for trumpet sheet music and she told me off thanking god her son hadn’t found it. i was like, do you email every single porn site you accidentally stumble upon?
R – raymi. this word came to me when i was 14 and decided i was going to write a story entitled THE LAST MINX and it was very similar to girl interrupted (before that movie came out or i ever knew of its existence)(which then for me of course became a self-fulfilling prophecy anyway) and i needed an interesting name for the girl and out of nowhere raymi was it after listing a bunch of stupid emo names like lark or sage or something, i had no idea raymi was also some festival of the sun thing (those guys must be lovin’ me on the internet eh takin’ all their traffic away). the first time i put it all together was when i wrote to vice a letter (additional bj tips and they printed it) it blew me away to see Raymi The Minx, Toronto – so off i went to town in their forums and the rest is history.
ok i need to take a break here now, i’ll leave the rest up to you. have fun.
first off the bat, can you say no to this face? you know what to do. the polls are actin’ bit funky slow from all the traffic i imagine so give’r a few secs to load, i really do appreciate it, really, for real.
the sake wasn’t hot enough. my only complaint.
i don’t remember the name of the place we had dinner last nite, it was on dundas east of mccaul, south side, not bad not bad. my glass ring slipped off my finger in the john and smashed into many, many pieces. can’t say i didn’t see it coming, steph be careful with yours. maybe avoid washing your hands altogether.
it appears to be matt is dangerously close to flippin’ me the bird here.
beef sashimi, hella cold, complaint two actually.
dynamite v nice. who invents these names and how do they travel ‘cross the board?
the boys went with chirachi, which is sashimi on rice and by the time you get to it you’re through with fish yet are greeted with nice fishy rice. burn.
me being the smart guy went with the sashimi box, more food, buck cheaper. <-- takes japanese bow.
someone’s hair had its shit together last nite.
heyyo! narco! clap clap!
then we had girl movie nite and all mourned the weed days of yore, sigh. i cannot WAIT to get a new couch you can see the backrest all buckled from my hours spent with wet hair drawing pictures of myself with wet hair in a towel in the dark.
and now i will paint.
one more nag for the road, please go vote for aunt raymi. thank you and my feelings wouldn’t be hurt if you told people on your own blogs to also vote for me.
the following is brought to you by starvation dementia.
gawd lawdy lawdy hi! DON’T FORGET TO VOTE!! fuck it’s a close race i can’t take it man and why do i care? i dunno, well i do, and will elaborate more on that after a jug of coffee.
over christmas fil’s mom saw the teeny brush i’d stubbornly been using on my wet hair and flipped (not really) so she bought me my own big girl comb. aw. life’s gonna change now boys.
no more ghetto rings thanks to nat’s extras.
you will not believe who i get to see tonite, strictly for irony’s sake of course, oh man i’m bursting, kinda sorta, but you will have to wait for that news however, speaking of won’t believe it, remember pitt? well he’s a sober sally now and totally a drama queen, i mean, he’s in a play (a racy one at that) called bedrooms and it opens this upcoming weekend (we’re going of course). he plays a dude who tries to get a threesome going haha.
here’s a little chat we just had
Patrick: On Jan 8, 9, and 10 the Poor Cousin Theater Co., will be doing a production of “Bedrooms” at the Oakville Centre For Performing Arts.
me: can i mention that you’re a sober sally now
Patrick: if you think that has a hook, i have no shame about it
“Bedrooms” is a set of five comedies that explore the uncertain journeys of love, marriage, fidelity and getting older
For me the real story of all this is the director Leslie Carelse
me: right but my readers know you
Patrick: I know, I’ll make the relation for you to post. When I was about 12, or 13 my mom threw me into the Parks And Recreation Program in Oakville to keep me out of trouble. There I met Leslie who was the fixture of young actors in Oakville.
He taught the “Art of Acting Program”. I used it as a place to meet girls, but I can sincerely say that a lot of my make up today was augmented by what I learned under his tutelage
me: big words pitt!
Patrick: I’m sober now, and have more time to read the dictionary. Through the magic of facebook, I organized a drink up in Oakville about a year ago of old actors from this program. Leslie and I came up with an idea of an alumnist show. Leslie got auditions going for a bunch of his students over the last 2 or more decades. And put together this Theater Company: “Poor Cousin”. Basically he (we) are trying to bring in a younger crowd to Oakville’s theater culture.
me: can i just quote you verbatim
Patrick: If you like, but feel free to edit or ask questions. There’s been a lot of ups and downs that went into this production, but I truly believe Leslie is onto something, I’m really happy to be a part of it. There’s too many shows that cater to the old blue hairs and remote control corpses of Oakville. While the Burbs will never have the hipster culture of Toronto, or even Mississauga for that matter, it’s a nice little niche of cool in an otherwise stuffy city.
me: well i look forward to seeing it
fil took this picture, it was my idea for the chick to show more skin she had the sheet over her shoulders like a nana, i said maybe you should tuck it under your arms like so. ME!
Patrick: That’s why I want you and Phil to come see it, be a part of it and so forth. This is a legacy and the fact that Leslie has rounded up his students (some pro actors, others clearly not) to do this is cool. And I play a guy trying to get a threesome on with his Mistress and Sex Therapist…so I don’t think that’s something Oakville has seen too much of.
Oh and you and Fil get to see me prance around on a stage in my underwear again, so it’ll be like Old times.
me: no i doubt it
yeah nothing new there
ok this is good, heartfelt, you’re really a believer
For tickets call 905.815.2021 (toll free: 1.888.489.7784) or visit
the Oakville Centre for the Performing Arts box office http://www.oc4pa.ca/boxoffice.htm
freshly watched pineapple express just now and nothing makes me wish i smoked pot more than this “fill-im” oh man YEAH. anyway, i see that i am “winning” in this blog awards poll thing (but not by enough yet!) and i thank you for your time, i’d like to sweep the hell out of it so whatever it takes, help a brother out, just pretend i’m black, and your brother, and not at all a drunk, and that this is all copacetic, actually, you should just know that everything that i have ever said on the internet EVER has and always WILL be, copacetic. more than emails from your mother.
so yeah, i’m cool, they drool.
A VOTE FOR RAYMI IS LIKE THE VOTE YOU COULDN’T CAST FOR OBAMA. and you get to do it all over again tomorrow and 5 days after that. ugh.
please thanks i love you terribly and scarily! every 24 hours you can vote again for the next week, and unfortunately i will remind you of this every 2 hours for the next week.
i am biting my nails like cray cray over here and by the end of the week i will be a big pile of mess i just know it. perfect timing for menses, post holiday blues, a dermatology appointment (getting that huge thing cut off my shoulder finally) and ten million other neurotic (imagined) things as usual.
come up with bribe ideas in my comments if you wish, a painting? a book? a sock? a rock? a cid’s whisker? a week long bender with yours truly? more shitty diet advice that will probably kill you?
ok i’m going to go sit cross-legged in the shower yoga style and meditate.
pfffffffft yeah right.
well, i will come up with a hilarious alphabetical list of reasons why i SHOULD WIN so you have something to look forward to.
HI, WELCOME TO THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE (AND ESPECIALLY THE INTERNET) HAVE WE MET? and while on the subject of grammar, i think “people WHO can’t spell” sounds more correct. ah, burn.
dramatically change your appearance then or move on, actually, just move on, but not before an enormous blow-out confrontation fight that you will then email me about and i can post on my blog. does he make clothing suggestions too? red flag lady! you’ve seen the signs now act.
you’re fuckin’ sick dude, and pathetic. i hope your wife finds out, and she will, and your daughter (assuming you have one cos the perviest guys are always ALWAYS fathers to daughters, it’s like the best irony and just desserts ever) has inherited this gene of yours, fantasize about THAT pussy you pig.
sigh, insert did you keep a receipt joke here. moreover, D-I-V-O-R-C-E or go on oprah and cry on tv about it. no, just leave him the selfish twat.
yeah sorry there peaches but the bullshit detector’s goin’ bananas over here you (alleged) little slut. come up with an original line to divulge your bad girl attention-seeking secret next time and maybe i will give a care and way to go all out on the postcard design too. YAWN. you couldn’t even bother to draw a lightning bolt or a broken heart or a dollar sign why, hurts too much?
OOOOOOoooooh look, someone put down their erotic gas station fiction for a second to declare something totally revolutionary WOAH my brain just did a 360 i can’t wait for the next card about HOT FIREMEN and SVELTE LIFEGUARDS and PROFESSORS BY DAY INDIANA JONES BY NIGHT babes where have i been all this time guys? what’s that you say, water is WET!? GET OUT!
ok that sounds fun actually save for the unnecessary dress judging line, you got greedy. the wedding on the stairs is spectacle enough as is you didn’t have to go full throttle bitchy and ho ho look at this, you spelled roommate incorrectly (snicker) and i’m guessing neither of you are married and you follow-up saturday’s depression activity watching 27 dresses and inhaling whip cream, no?
jesus fuck who are these people? you do not even deserve a baby step OCD kid gloves lesson here just pick your nose alone FOREVER and get out of my face.
why cos you’re ugly? heinous? a hyper-demanding high maintenance controlling emotionally-inept philandering piece of shit? do you want to be alone? no? yes? are you gloating? i can’t feel sympathetic for you cos i get the sense you are being half-arrogant about this yet are also crying out, but you’re a dude, and dudes are stubborn, so you won’t change or do anything to make an effort in the personal life department so whatever, no one’s to blame but you, and your father.
OH, BLOW ME.
dear: person who stumbled upon the simplest job ever who puts up 20 postcards on his blog ONCE A WEEK, yes, take a break you are so burdened, so totally burdened by these ridiculous postcards you don’t have to lift a fucking finger for they just keep rollin’ on in all you have to do is close yours eyes and randomly select 20 and then scan them, crushingly tiring i know, i know, there there, take a load off, you work so hard. pffffffft.
you are a nice person, a truly nice human, i love you.
um, then stop having it with dudes cos you’re probably a lesbian.
nerd, next year you should include an elaborate instructions/rules sheet, yeah? specifically stating that they must display your tacky creation until it is caked in dust and stale to all fuck and rendered inedible because THAT is what christmas is all about right? unless they were your loser stoner roommates, then that’s hilarious to me *sorry hahahaha. why did you capitalize ATE? what were they supposed to do marvel at its crapitude for days on end? get over yourself martha.
*not sorry.
ugh. ughhhhh. UNGH. can i meet this abomination of a woman and slap her for you? why are moms such giant fucking clichés? you need to SHUT HER DOWN NOW next time she says something negative you have to snap back, don’t even tell her it hurts, just zing her back, cut her off, point out HER flaws, remark upon them loudly and as frequently as she makes digs at you, SOMETHING, compare whatever shitty thing she says about you to something she herself has failed upon then proclaim wow mom, what a role model you are! thank you! thank you for granting me the sufficient skills necessary enough to go out into this world and achieve and better myself with, how selfless of you mom! my, what-a-martyr! your projectile insecurity doesn’t get me down at all, in no way does it hinder or obstacle me you fucking cow.
errrrrr, meme here anybody? do you know that that bullshit claim is uttered every time a rubik’s cube is revealed? you’re just the first tool to go all the way with it. do me a favour, make the L-sign with your hand and stare in a mirror for an hour.
the voting poll opens (begins) at midnite (in twelve hours) or shortly thereafter so my first bribe for you for making the effort to help me win this thing is to do a postsecret post today, soon, like, very. you have to vote for me once a day, lazies. did i not keep blogging all through being sick and the holidays when the rest of the internet was dead? you’re welcome.
bookmark THIS LINK pass it around to your grandma and tell everyone to vote for raymi the minx. THANKS MUCHLY!
