if u have been sending mail to raymi@minxraymi.com please don't do that anymore. that account is fubar - send to rawkrawk@hotmail.com - i cannot retrieve old bounced mails, by the way. sorry. my fault.

Dear Douglas Coupland

If I get up and out of the apartment before three in the afternoon then i feel really proud of myself. i have been unable to do anything before three in the afternoon for more than two weeks now. I haven't even gone to the tanning salon! Can you believe it? I'm truly leading the junky lifestyle. we get up and we do deliveries and meet with people and then once we are finished we do our own partying. i just put together this BeyBlade toy thing and got bored with it after 2 minutes. i'm not even at my own place that's why there aren't any new photos up of me. i'm using a mac. i fucking hate macs. karla in Microserfs says that PC is for boys and Macs are for girls because you are able to move freely in your computer universe with ease and some other jazz. i forget the actual quote but i bring it up because i disagree with karla. Macs frustrate me and make everything all counter-productive. i had to use a mac when i worked for the women's mag and i was assistant to the editor and i was manager of the circulations department, meaning, i had to dig and search through that fucking machine for files and tiny things and i could never ever find what i was looking for. ever. i was the only computer savvy person in my family and we only got a computer when i was in grade 6 and it was a PC. my parents thought i was doing all kinds of secret things down in the basement and stuff and i was. i was talking on yahoo chat to old men and setting up rendezvous with them, almost every nite of the week (when i was 16) and i faked accents and made up stories and all this amazingly interesting stuff. and it was mine, all mine, my life. i loved it. i loved saying that shit to my therapist and his blood pressure would skyrocket and i knew he just wanted to tell my mother everything and i said i'd do something bad.

anyway, that's all behind me now and extremely boring. i met a few interesting characters and if only they could see me in action now, douchebags that they are.

i am angry at myself for not going to karaoke last nite. it's been a rough week. k bye.

raymi

ps - i still think about meeting you or receiving an email from you. i tell people about your books and your words. and then i have to turn down the volume to the music. i put my hand to my breast bone and i pause and then i am ready to tell them what i need to tell them and even if they aren't listening i keep talking and talking, until i am finished and a week or two later i get a phonecall or i bump into that person and they tell me they read that book and they loved it and it helped them.

i haven't updated sexwithsmartpeople in eons because i got bored and angry with saying clever lines to boys from nigeria. but you can still go there. i think they even banished me from the site i used to round up these scumfucks. meh. i am SO clever. Laura has all these pictures up now of her in dumb wigs. they're a year old but still pretty cute. she was covering up her cancer head. anti and her are having a love affair on her tagboard and i am jealous cause i don't have one yet.

i've been a big fat jerk. i've been avoiding everyone. all three friends that i have. i've lost a whole day and i've lost weight. what happens when un-normal things become the norm? sure nudity and drugs and booze 'round the clock, throw in a cousin or two and maybe a car accident. i feel like a hot little 83 year old lady, well, rather i have the energy of an 83 year old lady. i have pictures galore but am in between being extremely unproductive and assbackwards lazy so gimme a day or two. continue reading raymi and laura and anti and jamie. yes yes. no.

ps those who make donations wil receive special exclusive raymi photos. booyah!

oh and i was added to this poll-thing a week ago or something but i was way too pissed off to mention or link it but i'm not angry anymore and i realise being voted worst means being the best. i forget but i made a comment and it seemed to make sense in the comment section here. and here is weis dude's blog thing.

i guess i should explain myself. or this blog. the phenomena of it all. i receive roughly 400-500 hits a day. what's that a month? 12k-13k, whatever i hate math. i never really paid any attention to other blogs, i never linked people and if i did i did 'cause they told me to or they linked me. there's this big-ass blogging community and everyone hates everyone else and copies everyone else and it's all very homosexual and mainstream now. i've had this clunky thing for over three years and now all the famous people have blogs. i'm not complaining, just telling you my observations. i'm a pioneer of blaaaaagging. i post at GTA bloggers and i never show up to their gatherings in toronto because i am:

a) too cool

b) ignorant

c) extremely high class

d) something

e) forlorn

f) am actually a 48 year old man with angina

and so on...

the truth is yes, i do want to be famous, i do want to walk down runways with stilettos and a big high ponytail and heroin eyes and i want to say clever things to reporters about toothpicks and olives and all that fancy fake important stuff and i plan to get all this in the most lazy way possible. so yes, this blog, my vehicle to importantsville. my pictures, my videos, my book, karaoke, my vaaagina too. you in your way, me in mine. i'm not closing doors and pigeon-holing myself. i'm not a good writer for a naked girl or a pretty good singer for a writer. i do it all.

so why don't you tell me what i should do.

here's me with my one true blackest of black friends. tyranny. he's a mouthpiece that's fo'sho. he be my pill poppin' buddy. he's more white trash than i. and no we don't do it.

the nice special people who make donations to me please gimme yer email address so i can send you thank you mails. but if you'd rather be annonymous i understand. i love you.

i feel like i've lost touch with civilization. the world outside the drapes is right-mean. i only understand movies i've seen no less than eight years ago. there are minimal rules and structure in my life. no cigarettes before 7pm unless i'm pulling an all-nighter which means 7pm equals the beginning of the end and people should be eating breakfast. don't work more than two days in a row for more than three hours at a time. make sure the cat does not eat the weed. always remember to send panic-stricken, meaningless text messages to all acquaintances and friends once you recognize it is one in the afternoon and people are on their lunchbreaks, wearing ties, sitting at office desks and you're trying to pay attention to 4 minutes of B A R A K A without bleeding from the veins in your eyeballs. coming to the conclusion that finite math, trigonometry, calculus and algebrae (brae!?) will only bring copious amounts of stress into my life therefore spending as little time as conceivably possible, thinking of such things is probably a great idea and might just be suitable for first place on my list of rules to keep.

wow that last sentence tired me out.

someone please tell me what to do/where to go for New year's Eve.

PS - thanks GR for the donation. now i can buy rainbow striped socks and a nickel bag. yes!

i want to buy a house so u have to give me money. i have had this blogthing for over 3 years now and i have not ever asked you of anything so now i am asking for it so gimme it please. meow meow. well really its for my minxraymi store but that wont be up for another week or two but in the meantime you can pay for my lunches. i love you.

fuck you.

yah i've been pretty impressed with the amount of things i've somewhat, um, been accomplishing despite the tiny sum of sleep hours pulling in. please disregard all errors of syntax and uhhh, run-on sentences.

that is all.

oh jesus that was pretty pathetic.

let me try again.

thank you for all the positive support and/or praise and patience with my not returning phonecalls, emails and ignorant comebacks. the lightbulb in my kitchen exploded and i found out when i stepped in to grab a cd and a hat and a copy of my book and then i left. i am avoiding my own space. it feels like i am either gaining or losing days and my words no longer make any sense and i sometimes find myself growing tired of my own voice but then i realise i haven't been talking for very long.

i know that i am a big fan of self-medicating, it seems.

i have not hit rock bottom.