my friend ward is awesome. one time he stuck a circuit tester i got from the hardware store into the cigarette lighter of his car because he is ADD and i was ignoring him by using his cellfone running up his fone bill and so he got a fantastic idea and it was to touch every area of the interior of the car that was metal to see if there was a current running through it and so once he got to the cigarette lighter it went NREEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOWW and all these sparks flew out at us and the radio and the whole fucking car shut down 'cos ward blew a trillion fuses but it was ok because we were going to the hardware store anyway 'cos i had to work so ward hung around the parking lot taking apart his car and once he figured out which fuses to get he went in and my boss and i were laughing at him the entire time because of course i had prepared my boss for ward's purchasing requirements and why they were required.

ward just told me he is special.



ward quote of the day, "ADD is FUN!"

and now he is laughing like a fucking donkey.

i wanted to be a vj and i was younger and less secure with myself and i wasn't marketable at the time of my audition, read on for the robot email they sent me two years ago.

>
>Thanks for coming to the audition, submitting your
>demo tape and considering MuchMusic as a place you
>would want to work. We had a look at your application,
>audition and tape, and while we appreciate your work,
>it's not in the Much style we are looking for at the
>moment. If you wish to send in a new tape in a couple
>of months please feel free to do so. We wish you the
>best of luck in your future ventures.

they forgot to say ps. george strombooolupagus wants to eat me out. oh well.

You're Geek Chic. Offbeat and with a thumbful of
calluses, you spend most of your time catching
Simpsons reruns and sucking down raspberry
Jell-O. However, you're still a hipster,
you've still got your own style, and you
probably dig the Velvet Underground's "Who
Loves the Sun?"


What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

-girl in pic with raymi is not the author of the following letter.

To LW aka raymitheminx

Dear. abused Friend

I am truly sorry you were a sweatheart and still miss you, but it is much easier to be alone. I wouldn't like anything more than to be able to wright you every once in a while. I was being "selfish" I know but I'm natural any asshole to those I care about.

On a lighter note I hope that you have started to relax and not worry so much, it'll be the death of you and show on your face.



lauren I would still love to be your friend because true blue buddies are hard to come by. There is just something about you I love.\ Sorry I just wrote that not even thinking, but there is definently something I really like about. I definently will understand if my being so crass on the phone will lead you to spit in my face, or if you tell me to fuck off, or have someone beat me up, but I must say this.



I have done a lot of thinking and a lot of things since I last saw you. I worked I few nights down in the T.O. got a new job changed houses twice, and went up north with my older friends and they helped me find a balance to it all. It's been a personal growing peirod that made me see that it is not healthy to sacrifice things that make me happy for my futurie and visa versa.



(Back)->

all I know is I hadto write this to you because I felt like shit but all in all I am just glad I knew all the face's of lauren.

PS. I would love to see you for a coffe or even talk to you on the phone to see how you are.



If you want to leave me a message you can at *** *** **** but please don't leave a shity measage with my grandma

Thanx

sorry

sorry

please caption this amongst yourselves.

Hi, hello there.

My name is Raymi, i am 21 years old and i am a woman, and i have been a product of consumer victimization of the all mighty MegaTouch for seven years now which is great for you, great for me even, because MegaTouch sharpens my senses whilst getting soused in pubs all over the place, specifically in Canada, however, it is not so great for me because it is MY dollar in YOUR pocket(s) and yes, i know it's a capitalist world we live in, and how great that is, and so on...

anyway, i am writing you now on behalf of the patrons of PrimeTime and myself.

What is PrimeTime?

Well, PrimeTime is a sports bar what used to be known as the Bearded Collie way back when things in this town were less "let's get modern because that's how we will make the monies off the rich kids" etc. and this town is Oakville, well actually it's a city but still, it's pretty much a town. It's the richest town in all of North America, basically, and 87 per cent of the population is European.

The town of disposable income, pretty much.

However, not everyone in this town has their shit together enough to work hard and play hard, you know what i mean? Not everyone can afford to MegaTouch their heart and soul while they cry into a pint during cheap wings nite, popping coin after coin after coin into the slot.



And now that the lucrative geniuses you are have upped the prices, we will be forced to MegaTouch not at all because the MegaTouch machine in PrimeTime, essentially the only entertainment in the town of Oakville, is 2 dollars for 2 credits, ahem, where exactly is the fairness in that?

Did you actually think this would work?

We're pretty angry, you know, we've pumped so much money into that thing, mastered all the games, convinced ourselves it wasn't that bad we were wasting our money because for a dollar one would receive three credits of play and for a twoonie (2 dollar canadian coin) you got six, tho' in other establishments you get seven credits, what a bargain, don't you agree?

Anyhow Mr. Ballouz, i don't intend for the tone of this email to piss you off, i only hope to persuade you to give us more credits for a twoonie, four would be sufficient, two is just plain insulting.

Here we are playing this game 365 days of the year, makin' ya'll think oooh it is SO popular, we'll put some new flashy games, give 'em less credits for their $$$ and WE will be RICH.

Honestly though, MegaTouch was just fine the way it was without having to add some hokey TVguide crossword game to it.

How would you react if you were in my position?

I know, you would simply NOT PLAY MEGATOUCH because you wouldn't be able to afford it, tho' you're addicted so you will play it anyway, right? Just like hiking cigarette prices? Fantastic.

We'll play it anyway, you think? You hope?

Time will only tell.

Anyhow, yes I have considered that it is possible that you have absolutely nothing to do with any of this sort of thing, though you do have the fancy VP title of sorts and really, a response from you and yours, i know will not grace my inbox, this simply was/is a writing excercise for me and my fanbase and this whole email will be on my website, so, yeh, thanks for your time.

i am still your friend.

xo
raymitheminx.com

ps. good luck with the whole marketing strategy thing and the like.

we watched taking lives and i remember you said that she was me in that film and so i see now that you were right because her mannerisms and crazzy-ass intensity and long hair and swoop-bangs thing, yeh, definitely me, and she plays with her hands when she is thinking

i am happy it was filmed and took place in Quebec city and montreal



there aren't enough hours in the day for me to count all the bruises on my legs from corners of futon and doorway frames



then we watched the butterfly effect and if i wasn't so innebriated i would have cried

oh but i did cry but just not on the outside

i knew i would relate to that movie on too many levels

i told serah i am going to need botox injections in my forehead because i express all emotions with it even as i type this i am all smooshed and furrowed up in thayuh.

FOREHEAD WRINKLES!

After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security,

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure...that you really are strong,

And you really do have worth.

Resent Somebody

The moment that you begin resenting a person, you become his slave. He controls your dreams, absorbs digestion, robs you of your peace of mind and goodwill, and takes away the pleasure of your work.



He ruins your religion and nullifies your prayers. You cannot take a vacation without his going along. He destroys your freedom of mind and hounds you wherever you go.



There is no way to escape the person you resent. He is with you when you are awake; he invades your privacy when you sleep. He is close beside you when you eat, when you drive your car and when you are on the job.

You can never have efficiency nor happiness. He influences even the tone of your voice. He requires you to take medicine for indigestion, headaches and loss of energy.



He even steals your last moment of consciousness before you go to sleep.

So if you want to be a slave, harbor your resentments.

so here is the other half to the stupid essay:

Along the way, any drifter is a ride the group takes on. Dean and Sal pick up anyone with a few bucks to spare and a story to tell. The road is long, dark and lonely and it appears the guys have their eyes peeled for all signs of action. We feel from On the Road how lonely and hard it is on the soul, to hitch. In Big Sur Kerouac takes onthe life of hitching. He is Jack Duluoz and thumbs a ride to California's Pacific Ocean at Big Sur.

The only car that passes that might have given me a ride is going in the wrong direction, down to Sur, and it's a rattly old car of some kind with a big bearded "South Coast Is the Lonely Coast" folksinger in it waving at me/ Big Sur, pg. 47

We feel defeat along with Jack, we want that car to pick him up, regardless of it being old and rattly. We know he is beat, tired. Imagine standing by the side of the road all day and your only chance speeds right on past. We easily envision it zooming by, a cloud of dust in its wake and still, Jack stands there with determination - he's getting to where he's going, no matter what.



Unlike On the Road, the vagabond in Big Sur tries to escape the road going ways to a cabin in Big Sur woods. In this novel, Kerouac writes of his inability to stray far from the vices he is trying to run from and the public which shaped him.

There's all that, and all my fine thoughts, even unto my ditty written to the sea "I took a pee, into the sea, acid to acid, and me to ye" yet I went crazy inside three weeks. Big Sur, pg. 39

With this, Kerouac foreshadows the eventual dementia which overtakes him upon his three weeks of solitude. He attempts to lay low in Big Sur, mellow out and relax. The mixture of booze and solitude prove to be the deciding factors toward the path of self-destruction for the main character. Within a few days he hallucinates sounds of the Pacific Ocean and sits there babbling to himself, capturing it all in poetry and calls it Sea;

The sea is we-Parle, parle, boom the earth-Aree-shaw, Sho, Shoosh, flut, ravad, tapavada pow, coof, loof, roof,- Oh ya, ya, ya, yo, yair- Shhh-



Evidently through Kerouac's twenty-three page long poem entitled Sea, he is fully immersed with the sounds of the ocean, this is how he interprets each crash, rise and fall of the waves. This poem can be interpreted in many a way, is he mad or is he simply fond of nature? It becomes obsessive, his mad scrawling and desperate attempt to get it all out. The initial vision of the retreat to Big Sur woods is tainted once Dulouz invites his group of poet friends to the cabin;

I'm sick and tired of all the endless enthusiasms of new young kids trying to know me and pour out all their lives into me so that I'll jump up and down and say yes yes that's right, which I can't do anymore-My reason for coming to Big Sur for the summer being precisely to get away from that sort of thing- Big Sur, pg. 109



Kerouac confesses he realizes the fun 'n games of the "beats" are over and now that he's an icon, it's lost its apeal. It is like he is coming to terms after the long roller-coaster ride of years on the road. There is a bite to these words, a bitterness. Kerouac once was a young kid with endless enthusiasm, eager for acceptance but now he scorns it. He's been there, done that - he's coined the "beat generation". We capture his uncertainty up in the cabin, he hates the kids but can't stand being alone with no one to drink with, to talk to. What does he want? Has he found "it" yet? Will he?

Using On the Road and Big Sur, Jack Kerouac explored the country from coast to coast many times in the company of friends, alcohol, and poetry. The imagery used in both novels is a showcase for the raw and sometimes emotional talent that was embodied in Kerouac and the Beatniks of the time. In On the Road, Kerouac described the insanities of his friend Dean using descriptive imagery and lively anecdotes; comprable is the way Kerouac uses imagery to describe his own budding insanity. These two classic American novels proves the effective use of imagery is only one hallmark of a great author.

what the f did you do to my last post, blogger?

Most famously known for the road-going journal On the Road, Jack Kerouac uses imagery as an effective way to describe and explain situations he experiences and people he encounters throughout his career. In several of his autobigraphical novels, Kerouac explores his "self" through the eyes of fictionalized protagonists; for example, in On the Road he is Sal Paradise. Jack Kerouac wrote about his life from an objective vantage point to utilize the imagery his stories are filled with, capturing the moments on ever page.



With On the Road, Kerouac introduces a new stylistic manner of creation: spontaneous prose. With previous works, Kerouac mirrors the style of Thomas Wolfe's writing; however he progressed, from that, into the style of spontaneous prose with On the Road and continued in the same with Big Sur. The reader may find the progression interesting, because Kerouac writes Big Sur after the onslaught of success and popularity he received after the publication of On the Road. Big Sur is the recounting of a man in the midst of becoming a reluctant cultural icon and a drunken slob. Kerouac struggles with his fame and money by using it to purchase large quantities of alcohol and turn what once planned to be a quiet "writing retreat" into a gathering of wild beatniks. Kerouac as Sal Paradise, we follow him through the motions of idealistic writer, eager to dig life and experience the world, scribbling it all down and offering true-grit tales - his way of life.



We sit with Sal Paradise during On the Road, analyzing and nodding our heads "yes" in agreement with the brilliant observations he makes. His use of imagery is profound and crystal clear - we are right there, digging life with Sal and his partner-in-crime, Dean Moriarty;

"Now we must all get out and dig the river and the people and smell the world," said Dean, bustling with his sunglasses and cigarettes and leaping out of the car like a jack-in-the-box. On the Road, pg. 140

The imagery in this quote is used mainly to describe Dean Moriarty, a fast-paced guy with his own agenda and also lends the reader a view of how these "beatniks" stopped, quite literally, to smell the roses. This is all that matters in their lives, they have close to no money and they don't care one bit. They dig.



In On the Road, Kerouac describes his adventures with Neal Cassady, otherwise coined as Dean Moriarty as the two venture from coast-to-coast and everywhere in between. They stop for life and take it without regret,

Where go? what do? what for? -sleep. But this foolish gang was bending onward. On the Road, pg. 167

Thus, summing up the pace of the crew, Sal shows there is never a set reason why they flit from place-to-place, because reason, to them, is not significant to their big picture. They push forward, ready to buy more and live more. We feel Sal's mood an almost need to know what is to come and then a quiet acceptance to "sleep" - the two of both extremes, panic to surrender. We feel the atmosphere that Sal, as narrator, creates from the description ofthe group. As we read, we are enticed and want the inside story, wanting to stand beside Sal, thumbs in the air and waiting for the eventual ride;

Outside Tucson we saw another hitchhiker in the dark road. This was an Oakie from Bakersfield, California, who put down his story. "Hot damn, I left Bakersfield with the travel-bureau car and left my gui-tar in the trunk of another one..." On the Road, pg. 167



second half of essay later.

Here is the ISU Essay I wrote comparing Jack Kerouac's On the Road to Big Sur for my grade 12 advanced english class just before i graduated from charm school and fucked off to nyc. Feel free to email and totally 'dis the shit out of it because i left it to the very, very last minute and i didn't even read Big Sur, i read the first 1/4 of it and i was like SHUT UP and then that fucking poem at the end about the waves, i think you have to be on speed to get that sort of thing. anyway, also feel free to plagiarise it yourself, steal the words, make it better.

i found this kid in a beatnik messageboard and got him to help me word it all the nite before i handed it in, go internet! i was like durr yeh i am related to this dude and he was all impressed and younger. pfft. oh and if you go to the charm school i graduated from you can get the copy of On the Road that i read, dog-eared, underlined, and was this close to stealing but didn't because i didn't ever wanna have to go back to that school again and go to library jail and not get my yearbook, which i didn't purchase anyway and i didn't have my photo taken for it either but there is some "poetry" they published, i have no idea why 'cos it was all about being a vixen and sexing people and depression, and so on.

i got 33 out of 40 on it.

8/10 for style
9/10 for unity and coherence
9/10 for evidence
7/10 for technical precision

and my teacher even wrote "Well done, Lauren."

focker.

for research i got 8/10
process 7/10
organization 7/10

ME!

the red loser-idiot markings say }awk. which means this sentence you just wrote is awkward you are a fucking moron but if you tried a bit harder this might even be japanese. All the other mistakes are places where i was too jewish to make the title italics and some other crap about open paragraphs i don't even know. essays are for people who write books and people who write books with essays in them are the same people who want to be friends with rush limbaugh and ps i got his book for a dollar from the library i can't wait to critique the hell out of it.

i will transcribe the essay a little bit later because i am gay, right now.

my lower lip is all dried-up and out and i am too much of a faggot to put lip balm on it so i am sucking at it and biting it and making it look all fat lower lipesque because i get punched in the lip because i am fantastic.

anyhow.



i have a new counsellor and he reminds me of curb your enthusiasm dude and he talks with his hands and he makes great analogies and i tell him i don't wanna work for the man and he is like, awesome.

i took a picture of the schizophrenia digest that i know you will all appreciate.

doctor dude says i have to make a 5 year plan and i said i can't even make a five second plan and i told aimee this and she laughed in that way she laughed because she is aimee and fil says, hmmph, "doctor" he is a counsellor I am a doctor and then we talked about the movie we are going to make, and then play it at my art show, one day this century.

and that is my five year plan.

i have a friggin' earache, i think i am getting sick again AND i hate smoking cigarettes AND i got the lay-away shoes courtesy of GK.

old people

when they walk around they are not very observant

because they care ten times less than the youth of today

they don't fuckin' care if they look pretty

or if i am looking at them

or if i want to smile at them

and say hi hello let me take your picture

they just wanna fuckin' walk if they can

and they want to be bitter

and sour

and go RAWRR YOUTH OF TODAY ARRRRRRRRRG WHERE IS MY HOT DOG!?!

but the youth

they care a lot

about everything

and good for them though some of 'em are pretty fucked up

because that old guy screaming about his hot dog

is their uncle

blogging and then not blogging for awhile then blogging again, off and on is really fucking irritating because you forget things like the name of a photo you thought you posted and then there is no frigging way you have the time to sort through the file manager of the server that hosts all the crap for you for that one totally awesome photo you thought you posted and that, my friends, is why blogging and then not blogging and then blogging again, is, really. fucking. irritating.

i love the pool but these days it makes me sad to look at it because it is full of dingy leaves and the liner has done and got itself all faded because it wasn't emptied before they left for France and the tomato pot fell over 'cos of the wind and i righted it but i know that when i go out there for a cig i will have to pick it up again.



i just ate mcdonald's and i feel great about myself now because i know my system will crash very soon and i'll snarl at the world until i take a huge crap and change the cd.



i'm going to have an art show by christmas time and you are all invited and i might even convince my dad and company to play at it while i hand out fuzzy peaches and sing about the 1960's so anyone who wants to give me some advice and/or help, $$$ for supplies, or no help whatsoever so i can go on being bitter and create art and then you can all show up and expect to buy it for just 3 dollars....



i am pre-menstrual for the rest of my life. ps this crap will not be at the art show though it should be.

today we got fil new shoes because fil learned that raymi got new shoes but raymi does not actually have the new shoes in her posession so fil wearing new shoes and raymi not wearing new shoes equals gay and not fair.

before that fil and raymi ate at the diner place and raymi was a bitch, again, and fil said i am never fucking coming here with you again and raymi said fine, but that obviously was a lie because they went there again three seconds later.

even before that they woke up earlyish and watched the teen choice awards and raymi said willheim made that music and fil said yes i know you tell me everything and raymi said let us drink beer.