tho i did want to address the last email u wrote, ie the one i posted on my blog

i wanted u to know that the mania is yes worth the art one produces
but be careful
im 21 now and i have had it with myself and how i am now
a drunk everyday and i how i deal with it is by glamorizing the places
i frequent and act pathetic and cute
i have been in a psyche ward brandi
and that aint any kind of fun
i cant smoke weed anymore because my brain is super sharp and connects
things that are ridiculous and i have/had severe post traumatic stress
from living in nyc during sept. 11 and from dating two drug dealers
who were very abusive
and now the antidepressants i am on are making me manic and i am just
fine with it and i drink coffee everyday and i have all these
brilliant ideas and i never finish one project i begin and i whine and
complain for help with these projects i want to come to seed but then
we just end up going to a play and to the bar and reading my email for
nice messages from people like you
and i think i will never ever be satisfied with my life

and i also have body dismorphia and eating problems and i am broke all the time

so...

today i hope to accomplish/put-off the following:

laundry

shower

shave stray eyebrows

find earphones

take pictures of raymi posessions and put them up at raymistore

write a book

be nice to people

be mean to people

be pleasant

turn into a unicorn

write another letter to megatouch about how we should get more points for this one game we play

start a megatouch blog

get help for megatouch addiction after i

get help for my drinking problem

learn how to speak to people again

invent new ADD/ADHD medication that also aids social ineptitude

and self-loathing

draw pictures of cigarettes

?

yesterday i decided to get pissed-off and dissappear out of the place and then you called and asked if that was me in that mysterious car around the corner because you followed and i said no i am alone in the dark spying on the lake

harold cut my hair for free yesterday when we came in and were talking business and i said i need all the help i can get, this dry-ends shit is out of control

and we talked about how he is the token black dude in town and i said he must get a lot of pussy and he is like yeh i do but i don't live here and i said i had noticed him several times at the coffeeplace and i had wondered about him

and i told him about the time me and tyranny walked around all hung over and he was wearing his new york fuckin' city t-shirt and all the white families were shocked and appalled

harold has a motorcycle club and two chillens

when the girl was shampooing my head i was laughing like a moron and her face turned into a big question mark and i said please don't be alarmed i am always weird like this and when water goes over the left side of my head something strange happens to me

and her eyes were tearing up because she was laughing at my hysterical giggle-attacks and feet stomping and grabbing the sides of the chair like arnold in total recall when they are going to shove that needle in 'em

in other news

i watched new york minute, last nite, and now i am thinking of dying my hair blond

raymi needs a change

and then i can say that i did it because my idol ashlee simpson dyed hers blond and everyone would believe it

because they are special

valerie said no way jose don't dye it blond keep it dark it suits you i will destroy the universe with my electronic pitchfork if your hair is blond and all the guys were like yeeeeh heeeeer doi blond hair droool swoon i like blooooooond

horny toad hang-out

> Dear Raymi

> I'm 18. I live in the Midwestern United States. I don't actually think that
> I am a headcase any more than anyone else, especially since I watched Oprah
> ce matin avec celebraties who were strapped down in mental institutions, and
> then there's good 'ol Anne Heche. But really, crazy celebs or not, I
> shouldn't set that as a standard. I just said that because I was being
> self-critical and I wanted you to realize that I realize these things about
> myself. I am, though, generally depressed or extremely unhappy, which
> watching commercials and things, I've gathered that I have manic-depression
> and also sociel anxiety disorder, although, I am well past that teeny-bopper
> stage in my life where one reads all about mental illnessess and frets over
> them and believes that they are so unique. I have never been to a therapist
> and never intend to, because (I don't know how it is in Canada) the United
> States drug companies are cruel pill-pushers who desire profits, and while I
> know that some people find manic depression unbearable, I quite like it. At
> times I am incredibly creative and do not ever stop writing. I feel that the
> manic state is well worth the later consequences of depression. I should
> wonder what the world would be like if Van Gough or someone wonderful was
> medicated. And besides, Sylvia Plath was treated, and it apparently did not
> serve her well. Do you ever wonder, dear internet friend and distant
> relative to Jack Kerouac, how many lost artists are out there, living day to
> day life as 'normal' zombies because of medication, all the while their gift
> of creativity is living an obscure, dorment existance because it is being
> repressed with prozac/paxil/zoloft? Sanity is not statistical.
>

this is a poem by raymi

you notice when people stop caring

and trying

when summer is over the food in the refridgerator is less happy

and there are less bottles of beer to smuggle

and everything is dark

earlier

and everyone gets fatter

women think about how fat they are every three minutes

men think about their penis and women's asses every three minutes

if i sit still for a very long time

and concentrate really, really hard

i can turn into stone

and then fizzle away into dust like kirsten dunst and that woman in Interview with the Vampire (awesome movie)



and it is only my fingers that are moving over the keyboard

and i can smell my armpits

and i hope that no one comes near to smell me

hannah came near and said are you wearing perfume and i said no i washed my hair today, i may look dirty but i am actually clean

it's 'cos i put so many toxins into my body i think

i just, turn all pungent?

i'm so friggin' wired. two coffees. all this talking and music-editting and website-maintenance and robot-tasks brings me back to the internship in days of yore 'cept this time i am smarter and bossman is like, impressed by simple things i do and i am all, look, i hyperlinked and he does a cartwheel.

basically.



because i am connected to the computer i have been putting off a cigarette since i got here and good for me.

jord emailed and said he is installing a card in sal's 'puter and i said well when you are finished with that dumb whore you should come to town and i can tell you about emails i get and maybe he will actually bring his unicycle this time.

hotmail finally upgraded my account to 3 quatrillion gb.

me!



my aunt has an art show tonite but we're going this weekend instead and i was all, dad, free booze will be at it the opening nite not three days later, doi, and he is all yeh whatever your uncle is coming to town for the weekend, that is when we all go and i am like fine then.

i think it is time for a smoke soon.

and a bowel-movement, perhaps, if i am lucky.

anyone who is reading this and turns to their friend and goes, woah, too much information raymi and then you do a hand-gesture that is all talk to the hand - you are old.



the late late show had that funny black dude on it last nite and i go, is that one of the wayans brothers and fil goes are you serious or joking and i said i was half-joking and i only asked that because i didn't know the comedian's name and so to cover for it i made a har har he looks like a wayans brother comment.

and now i just look racist.

TOP TEN LEAST POPULAR ATTRACTIONS AT DISNEY WORLD

10. The Raw Sewage Flume

9. Oprah Mountain

8. Moses Malone's Enchanted Laundry Hamper

7. Parade of short actors in stifling animal suits

6. Pegleg Pete's Prison Shower Room

5. Muggyland

4. Hall of Vice Presidents

3. Walt's Walk-in Freezer and Crypt

2. Turn the Hose on Lady and the Tramp

1. Peter Pan's All-Male Cinema




JOHN GOTTI'S TOP TEN TAX TIPS

10. You can deduct the entire piano even if you bought it just for the wire

9. Guys who escape from the trunk of your car may be considered business losses

8. No matter how much he relies on your business, a funeral director does not count as a dependent

7. Another write-off: long-distance calls to Pete Rose

6. You must actually kill someone in your home for it to qualify as "place of business"

5. Three simple words to the auditor: "How's your family?"

4. For a vacation to count as a business trip, return with 100 pounds of heroin

3. Smart-guy talk show hosts may end up with more medical expenses than they thought

2. When reporting income, be plausible. No pizzeria in the world takes in 3 billion dollars a day

1. What H&R Block can't do, cement blocks can




TOP TEN ELF PICKUP LINES

10. I'm down here

9. Just because I've got bells on my shoes doesn't mean I'm a sissy

8. I was once a lawn ornament for Jon Bon Jovi

7. I can get you off the naughty list

6. I have certain needs that can't be satisfied by working on toys

5. I'm a magical being. Take off your bra

4. No, no. I don't bake cookies. You're thinking of those dorks over at Keebler

3. I get a thimbleful of tequila in me and I turn into a wild man

2. You'd look great in a Raggedy Ann wig

1. I can eat my weight in cocktail wieners

i'm so tired of music videos with crazy girls jumping on their beds, screaming at the camera, wearing knickers and a tiny-tee.

why are they slacking so hard in the video-concept department?

i just saw a commercial for Great Big Sea - for you americans, Great Big Sea is this band that i've known about since i was a younger loudmouth, since the 90's, and everytime one of their videos would come on when i was laying there upside-down on the couch watching muchmusic i would have to change the channel 'cos they are so canadian it's like RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH i KNOW YOU ARE CANADIAN, STOP SINGING ON ROCKS NEAR A LAKE WITH A CABIN AND CUT YOUR STUPID HAIR TOO and then i am watching montel williams and forget i was trying to rock out to awesome day-time music videos because of Great big Sea.

fockers.



anyway, i guess for Great Big Sea's new video, yawn, because they are old and farty and boring and their music still sounds like tree branches and your mother making porridge someone said, yo Great Big Sea, let's have a crazy hot girl jumping around on a bed! and Great Big Sea went, TOTALLY!



look assholes, granted, every other girl you talk to in canada is cute and bored mental because she is a product of her environment, and the only thing bored cute girls know to do to not go crazy is rock out in their bedrooms pretending they are joan jett tho' this doesn't mean you have to stick it in every friggin' music video and cut to clips of your fat-ass playing a keyboard singing to a cow.



everytime i turn on the tv i turn into the opinionator and have to pace around the room until my laptop fires up and i can write down everything i think about the thing i saw on tv that turned me into the opinionator but it comes out in RAAHAHH rAHHHHHHHHH form and i throw a few pictures in there and hope that all four of you get what i am going RAHHHH RAH about.

and ps if you are a fan of great big sea don't get me wrong, i am proud of any canadian who has made it and continues to try to make it some more but, come on! Great Big Sea, more like, Gay Big Sea.

ok that was an obvious cheapo immature insult.

i'm just addicted to hurting myself.

mine is in my mind and hers is in her body, i guess.

she said she was pregnant and needed money but she was lying and you didn't tell me that that was the girl at the time and had i known i would have said something and you knew this so i am glad for the sake of humankind that you kept mum about it all because that wouldn't be very ladylike of me to completely flip-out in a plaza-parking lot of the food buffet place on a sunny sunday afternoon in front of my whole family.



so i revelled quietly that the guy she was was the biggest-looking loser of sorts and his outfit was all wrong and she looks like someone to slum it with.

i'm a people-addict.

i have to connect with everyone.

i really care about everything and i always have a story to tell that is somewhat relevant to what you are talking about and i will make it funny and after awhile you may get annoyed by my incessant-rambling and ADD so we take a break from each other and i spend my nites wandering around in the dark taking the same photographs until i bump into a familiar face and i smile at them and sometimes they don't want to be smiled at

and then you will call me and i will say oh right now i am looking at a tree and there are all these crinkly leaves around and people are weirded-out by me 'cos they are probably wondering why i am always there wearing flamboyant jackets

and you ask me if i am drunk and i say no, not yet, don't interrupt i am telling you about a lamp post now and something someone said to me at lunch that day and a one-liner i remembered from a simpson's episode a month ago and i ask you about your day and maybe we will rent a movie later on or meet up at a strip club and we'll find my mittens and you say maybe you should wear a dress and i say, perhaps



and maybe i will show you videos of me dancing around an apartment to beastie boys wearing that russian hat that i wear and i tell you that there was one of me doing a cartwheel into a poker table but i erased it and you were amused and seem to be entertained by it, maybe addicted, like how i am addicted, people-addicted

and so there i am walking again because i don't want to be alone in the house staring at the laundry i should be doing and the cat that is needy and the cigarettes that aren't there for me to smoke so i go into town and watch color of money with the boys and think maybe i won't drink today i have gotten this far so far but then we get a pitcher and i am playing the video games and eavesdropping on people's football conversations



and i leave to go to another bar and i think all the way there i have no money absolutely no money i am just going in to say hi and then a bunch of entertaining depressing stuff happens because sunday is when the real-lonelies come out and adan walks in and i am all hey focker where are my mittens and conky sez you set him up the other nite and i am trying to talk to shawn about marketing and james is being drunk argumentative and pathetic and my fone is just not working i am waiting for it to ring so i can go watch ali g with you and then i am in trouble



shawn was asking why i was so tough and i said it was a defense-mechanism and i waved my arm around the room and said because these are the people i know, the only ones i know where i am living right now and they are all drunk or drinking and they are all male and it has been the case forever

so i have grown-accustom to it

and i told bryce we have an appointment this thursday and that i was nervous and excited about it because i wanted to come across as smart and he bought me a beer and i didn't ask him to and i asked him how the smoking was coming along and he said great and i said great, thinking that he meant yes the quitting-smoking business and then he pulled out a pack of cigs and i clucked oh no and on and on and on.

some people may read this and shake their head and say their life is better, their party scene is less dark, happier, truthful, and the people in their circles are more real.

i call bullshit on that.

i love these people in this scene.

somebody's got to.

watched the second half of the color of money and i told thom that he should start being a pool hustler and then i wished i had some crazy weird talent of my own that i could demonstrate in bars and people would place bets on me to do this talent and amaze everybody but all i could think of was that dice game and honestly, i don't think that would go over so well in a pub, or that anyone would care to see some girl squatting down on the floor throwing dice and have people fall on top of her and so on. i just couldn't get past throwing dice as my new enterprise and i felt really bad for myself but in a haha i am such a moron type-way.

and then i got over it.



then i thought i could sit there and draw people manic drawings for five dollars or something but then i would be too polite and say here have it for free and they would end up writing on the back anyway and i always draw the same thing over and over and over and it's the same people and they will be like, we don't want another picture and then i'll draw them one anyway but it will be one of their face and a thought-bubble above their head and some immature insult in the thought-bubble like they are saying it about themself and i'll go here you are stupid, here is the picture you didn't want, shove it up your fookin' ass!



and they say wow that one is the best picture you ever drew for me i love it and i say give me my money and they go well you said i could have it in my fookin' ass and i say well i changed my mind i am selling it to your best friend instead to spite you and then i turn to the friend and the friend gives me a hug and a pity-look and i go home and beat someone with one of my journals.

nah.

i say look idjits i am an art-hustler, everyone over there was betting on me over this whole picture-nonsense, har har, get out of the bar.



i have the lamest fantasies.

oh and ps transmegacorp is getting all this raymitheminx traffic/business, dur, so everybody else who is smart and wants traffic too should be nice and email me and get me to advert your merch.

i need money so i can continue being a novelty.

double ps. i could beat anyone in megatouch 11up in any bar. that is my savante bar-talent.