Saturday, February 08, 2003
some fucking assholes hacked my hotmail account? whatever. email firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com if it's urgent that or this chinese machine is fucked. meh. lots of gossip and rage and lore to tell you. first that hot sexy blythe photographer emailed ME! and i would post it but my hotmail account is having an asshole attack. um, some seXtv producer wants to meet me for drinks and talk about my bountiful wisdom and knowledge about pornos. in a week look for "what raymi's been up to" exclusive paid photos/videos site. rock rock rock til the break of dawn.
ps more drunken slur photos to come and don't worry, the blog will never disappear.
add me to yer msn with firstname.lastname@example.org if yer a regular friend, if yer useless you can fuck off and die.
dear douglas coupland.
everything kinda sucks for me right now though i have written some proposals, made some art, talked to important people, made ultimatums and um, bought useless things and whatever over the last week. it truly kills me not to have my emails and my precious personal things. this is going to be a huge nasty legal battle if it gets any worse, my fucking book is in my hotmail account and other personal shit and this coul affect any and every person who has ever emailed me. i am not even famous and someone already wants to destroy and sabotage every fucking piece of work i have done. please help me and email: MSNPrivacy@msn.com and tell them my story or get them to help me NOW!
i am so mad right now i want to explode from the inside and no one will help me i need a hacker and programmers and everyone to killkillkilllllllllllllllll.
Monday, February 03, 2003
people don't come back so often if i don't update with beaver pictures. funny. i guess my writing isn't all that afterall. perhaps you could hang out here.
i have zero structure in my life. i am going mental because my laptop and office type shit has not been rounded up yet and last nite i slept on the third floor catwalk/closet, by myself under a rusty ole air conditioner and then i missed one of my crazy appointments this morning. i might get a prescription for fluoxitine - it covers adhd, depression, anxiety and the ten million other things that i suffer from.
i have even decided to join these group therapy things so we can take a weekly busride to the ymca and shoot guns and write in our journals about coke binges and stuff.
i'm kinda excited. they say i have to go at least 3 times a week otherwise i get kicked out.
maybe i will be the most popular girl in the class and they will let me stand on a table and tell stories about my exciting life.
anyhow, i am the most irritating thing ever and everyone hates me and the blond girl because we make too many cock jokes so we might as well go lay in a ditch on dupont.
does your dad look this hip?
mine does, sort of.
Sunday, February 02, 2003
moving is hard. its not even done. i feel like a prisoner. i cant even make loud noises. we talk until we are like blue and falling asleep, me and the blond girl. we call her ice cold pussy. we think we were drugged, again. well i was at least. that or i am extremely allergic to alcohol, but once n awhile. it was fucked. we are trash and we love it. we pick fights with fat old men and then wonder why all the men are irritated by us.
nothing we do is stupid.