mulagatani. i love it it’s like ordering a curry meal w/o all the carbs, no rice.
drunk city.
last nite was mental, something in the air i dunno it was an unspoken mutual agreement to just get fucked, and that’s exactly what we did. last nite has also inspired me to retire myself from karaoke, until further notice.
here in point form are some things that i did last nite:
-overflowed a toilet
-almost punched a guy for taking my hat off liam’s head then told him about how much i almost punched him
-almost punched jon for trying to duet killing me softly with me despite inviting myself to duet his song (wicked games) in-where i yelled at him over the mic the entire time to sing better and i met him 20 minutes beforehand, i deleted the video no one needs to see that again.
-told the karaoke guy christie had a wicked crush on him so that i could get ahead in the karaoke rotation and sing another song then stood beside him a bit longer telling all these things christie thinks (doesn’t) about him.
+++
oh and way to insult to injury my losing in the polls, the thing won’t load, whatever OVER IT. i love going out with a non-bang.
they’re like ok take off everything except your bra and panties, uh, i don’t wear a bra. kinda humiliating being naked and pointing out every spot on your body. oh and i gave her my blog url too. wicked.
yay all the retarded cysts and every other thing growing on my skin even that botfly-looking thing on my shoulder is fine now lets get wasted!
Raymi,
I’ve actually had a chance to vote for you three times today (we have multiple computers at work), and I’ve been proud of it each time.
I hope the people who decided to give this award are learning something about the priorities–or lack thereof–of the blog world. My antipathy towards politics in general begins to leak out here, but I believe that any themes that woman could possibly bring up in her political rantings are already contained in your blog, either explicitly or implicitly. And if she thinks she cares about being “up-to-date,” I think your mode of expression gets much closer to embracing what it means to be a person today: life doesn’t make enough sense to warrant capitalization.
You already know that what you do is better, so set a fine example and keep doing it.
ps. i have a tan on my face i went for a super stand-up yesterday and wasn’t wearing makeup (shocking!) and now fil likes me more for some reason even though my face is red except for my eye goggles tan line. what i mean is MY FACE IS ON FUCKING FIRE!
ice cream espresso, i bought ultra low fat vanilla, WRONG. the first few sips are good after that hello taste?
looks like icing mmmmm icing.
that’s a fat mirror, it was here when we moved in, fil refuses to believe or even entertain the fact that I AM RIGHT about this. within the frame the mirror leans slightly forward from the top, thus making it a fat mirror, had the mirror within the frame lean out from the bottom it would be a skinny mirror, the fact that it leans forward from the top is because it is mounted 180 degrees on the wall if it were on the floor leaning against the wall rather than mounted then i would look like a toothpick did you guys know i was a scientific researcher? ok no more mirror pictures until i clean off my makeup stains.
so, bought REAL cranberry juice, 8.99 a fucking bottle, and bought two of them.
wait what, who put that thare?
quite tart, had to add water to it and some cranberry/grape cocktail.
and here we have the party face.
if you haven’t read the basketball diaries, you should. i’m re-reading it to fil on a drivies.
vote for me polls are open for barely two more days, then this all will go away.
it makes me laugh a bit to see those conservative turds talk about me so much right now and say how i am unoriginal and the way i blog is easy, for me it IS, but for others to immitate and keep up with my content and constant documentation of my life, i see no one else doing that, it isn’t so easy. first of all you have to have a life. i’d like for the competition to show their daily goings-on, but they can’t, cos they’ve got nothing to show, because they have no lives and if they did share them, no one would read their blogs.
sharpie got the green soya guy, sorry luck of the draw lady.
kristin opened a special bag of bags specially for my present, sigh. i’m kind of in love with her and when we talk i can’t even look at her and it’s been over five years since i’ve known her and i am still a fucking moron everytime i see her ungh! hi kristin. she sneaks in secret trinkets in all my magic pony purchases too.
my hits are kind of exploding right now everybody so if you wanted to share in the wealth of that you could interview me or something, something. only if you’re voting for me constantly of course.
i’m thinking if your kid is small enough to fit in one of these dudes they probably shouldn’t be sitting in chairs, oh well, cute as hell regardless.
i was too shy to stand for longer than one second to get a better picture of the saturday miss b’havin model. i almost did that saturday gig once, they give you 50 dollars cash, or a hundred dollars in store credit. i was already modelling at the time and then came to my senses, why would i stand in a window display for 8 hours for 50 bucks when i can lie on a bed for 20 dollars an hour playing on the internet and make commission on top of that? anyway that model was nice and waved at me even though i was speed-walking by like a crybaby sometimes i am just too pathetic for this world. at least i am cute and get away with it.
this game is kind of ridiculous, you are basically in a frat house party from the 80’s and you keep breaking make-believe goblets of wine and smashing entire bottles of scotch and you have to take a drink on every square you land on.
dream, co-starring raymi
ok so, tho I cannot claim to visit your site very often — once every few weeks, give or take — you showed up in a bizarre dream of mine last night: I was at a hospital because some relative of mine was recovering from a gunshot wound or something totally off the wall, I was yelling at the doctors because they wouldn’t let me see him/her … anyway at some point there you are, and suddenly we’re sort of fake dancing/singing to depeche mode’s blasphemous rumor … we’re mouthing the words and getting a big kick out of the chorus … anyway, great song.
