oh yeh.

fil hung a tree from the ceiling upside down last nite. the tree is 3/4 the size of a football, however. you don't really notice it because of all the faggoty balloons that are still everywhere. i gave my dad that drawing of squee i did and he said who/what is this so i can tell everyone at work about my original raymitheminx art and i said he is the little boy neighbour to johnny the homicidal maniac and his name is squee and my dad said riiiiiiiight like i was a martian (which i am) but i knew that it made him feel all cool that he has a strange eccentric daughter who draws him crap and he has to put it up on his walls and treat it like it is gold.



and all the other kids draw pictures of rainbows and flowers.

gay.

though, they are 5 or something.

still, that's no excuse.

Dear Raymi,

I'm a big fan of yours. Thought you could put this on your site:

There I was just walking along Yonge Street on a blustery winter’s day.
Christmas shoppers everywhere running in hot pursuit of red tags like
squirrels fighting over nuts.
Only two blocks from home where warmth and a hot chocolate awaited when an
incident occurred that changed my city view.

Halfway across a major intersection, I stumbled on the ice and fell face
forward onto the frozen pavement, my left knee taking the brunt of the pain.
People all around me trudged on by ignoring my screams of agony. No one
stopped to ask if I was ok, no one offered a hand. As the flashing hand of
the streetlight began its blinking warning I brushed myself off and rose.
Limping my way toward the sidewalk I hit a crack in the ice and keeled over
again. This time a man was right beside me, and when I say right beside me
I mean within make-out distance, and when he saw me go down he averted his
eyes and scurried on his way. I made it to the sidewalk feeling like a
leper. I followed the man who had pretended not to see me slip. No I’m not
a stalker, but as it turns out he was heading to my building. Guess he read
that commandment: Help thy neighbour unless of course they have the
misfortune of being a stranger in need.



I related the story of my double fall to the security guard at the front
desk. She listened kindly, told me that she laughed when she saw someone
fall on the ice the other day, and wished me a happy holiday. I lived in
the burbs up until this past year where people actually say hello to each
other wen walking their dogs or picnicking in the park. What’s up 416?




that story makes me angry
toronto people are assholes
too bad yer legs were all messed up and u couldnt run after the guy
ill put this on le blog
happy holidays anyhow daniela
next time sue the city for not putting enough salt on the sidewalks
xo
raymi

fil adopted me a wolf for christmas!

holy cute! so one less wolf is going to be slaughtered and made into a teepee and now i own a wolf!

fucking cool!

also

i now own napoleon dynamite and a blythe wallet and slippers and a jacket and later i'm going to my nana's and she got me for kris kringle so this means i will prolly get a sweater that is fluorescent yellow with stop signs and tornadoes on it.

oh no wait. i told her to get me a gift certificate for chapters.

yay me.

i bought my cousin the new douglas coupland book and i forgot to read it first. meh. i also got him some book about all the evilest people in history.

very festive.



fil went over to his parents' and i am here with the cat and the cat just made a sigh. once my brother gets his crap together he's swinging by and then we go to nana's/papa's for hours of amusing dysfunction.

i swear if my nana calls me fat again i'm gonig to be not pleased.

for christmas i got my period.

!!!



happy festivus.

today is going to be a long and sober one.

df;gohfds;garheg"4ewgjes'jsdv

f to that. i'm starting now.

oh, aimee emailed and is homesick and the only time she feels not lonely is when everybody is asleep and she can be alone with the liquor cabinet.

we've all decided that after new year's we're not drinking.

my anorexia figure is all gone now.

i hate looking at my body again. i just want to wear blankets and dumpy sweaters and speak swedish, i dunno.



yesterday i met two lesbos after dinner, over dessert. one is alex's cousin. and i said, fil, the only thing i can think about is them doing it and he is like yah, me too. and i kept looking at one of them from across the table and everytime we made eye contact i thought, ok, she knows what i am thinking about, i have to get out of here. so i went to the bathroom with my wine and then stayed in the other room or on the porch smoking until they left.

im already annoyed and so over christmas and it's not even christmas.

i got some nice boots and other things i forget already.

gifts aren't the important part anyway.

it's the insults and being around one another and eating festive pizza from little caesar's and doing laundry and the cat going mental over catnip sockmice and the christmas cards falling into the gas fireplace off of the mantel and then trying to learn how to play backgammon again.

oh and making a popsicle stick ballerina that is suppose to be a puppet.

and then tomorrow you do it again at the place where there are other people that you are related to.



aimee come back we miss you.

happy holidays everybody.

when people run out of ways of getting attention, they start lying.

they make up these ridiculous stories all of the time and you sit there going ya, uh huh, yaaa, and you are like, yo guy, you know that i know that what you are saying is utter bullshit and not at all believable, right?

and then the guy gets super-ass defensive all scary angry at you and has to find someone in the room to back up his tall-tale so he brings someone back who heard the story a year ago and the guy goes see this is jack, jack knows, jack was there so it happened, yo! and jack nods his head all out of it and bored and disappears and because you don't want to make waves you act like you believe the fable and go back to thinking about lipstick and tennis rackets and then the fucker has to ruin your time all over again by saying another lie because his lie-o-meter is set to full now, thanks to jack.



and so Dr. liarface gets all into lying again and by now you have zero patience for the shit but it's ok because liar doesn't notice at all because he is so into fabricating this version of the same lie he always tells that it doesn't matter if you are listening or not so then because you are a callous asshole, you turn to liefuck and say, hey liefuck, maybe if you got a job, perhaps you wouldn't have to make up all this non-existant crap all of the time and then you would actually be interesting. how about that?

but because liar's entire life is one big fantasy it is not possible for him to change.

so you should probably avoid him.

'cept for when yer bored in the bar and feel like hearing about on-fire unicorns with machine guns duct-taped to their heads.

and i think we all agree that the BEST is when some guy tells a story that happened to him but it's actually a story that happened to you and you told him about it a year ago and then you get to see with your very own eyes that this douchebag rips you off MAJOR! and you think, fucker, he probably tells all of my stories. i am SO not ever telling a story to him EVER AGAIN and then you look around the room at everybody looking at douchebag standing up telling YOUR story to them and the looks on their faces are like, wow, he is FINALLY saying something interesting and some people are actually LAUGHING and SMILING and your blood starts to boil and the veins in your forehead begin to pulse and your eyes get all squinty-mad and douchebag story stealer makes eye-contact with you and he swallows loud, all nervous-like 'cos he forgot that you were at his social gathering and now he is FUCKING BUSTED and he is so scared that he stops telling the story, not altogether, he just kinda pauses.

and then dennis goes, come on, GO ON, what happens next?

and martha goes, ya! tell us!

and then you say, ya douchebag! tell us what happens next, please do go on, i can't possibly wait to hear all about your trip to China.

and then Sally says, hey, didn't YOU go to China too!?

and that's when shit hits the fan and lying douchebag is exposed and when you leave his shoddy apartment of lies, you help yourself to a couple unopened bags of potato chips and a knick-knack or two.









paige wants a party.

over-hearing young people's conversations fills me with rage.

it makes me want to smoke cigarettes and scowl from up in a tree and tape record everything i hear from a cute little microphone that i dangle inconspicuously from the branches and once the word like is used more than 30 times, i am allowed to make shit fall out of the tree on top of all the young people and i jump out like a superstar and exclaim THIS AMBUSH IS FOR THE WORD "LIKE" AND MAY YOU FROM HERE ON FORTH USE IT ONLY IF YOU ARE IN ENGLISH CLASS AND YOUR TEACHER IS TELLING YOU TO WRITE A SIMILE!!! BLAAAAAAAAAK!

and then all these cats that know how to walk on their hind legs show up and are all snotty to the young people and then the young people leave town forever except for little girls who are maybe 6 years old, they can stay because i like it when they look at my cat ears winter hat and roll their eyes and then go to school on monday and tell their best friend sarah that they saw a teenager wearing the dumbest hat ever and then sarah says, WHATEVER! MY BROTHER IS GAY! TOP THAT!

does anyone want to buy this? i am getting tired of looking at it.

Dear Raymi,

This is an early valentine for you cause you're probably the coolest chick
ever.
You have most dudes by the balls, most girls by the heart and fucking
everyone by their tongues.
Please don't stop writing.

Much love,
Maggie

thanks maggie. that was the best valentine because it was a picture of some nerdy guy on a hospital bed having his heart examined by a boring-looking nurse-woman and the expression on his face is like, sigh. i am too lazy/hungry to upload it so for now it is for me and me alone.



yo. i ordered some things from magic pony and they threw in a blythe doll for me for xmas and i called fil and i said i opened the package and they threw in a blythe and he is like WHY?! and i said BECAUSE THEY LOVE ME! fucking right!



i gave that other little blythe to my neice (once the big-sized one that wilheim got me arrived) who probably forgot all about her and she is in the garbage now, who knows, anyway, now i have a different-looking little sized blythe doll. she has short orange hair and orange eyes, kinda reminds me of melting dolls and also makes me want to cut off all of my hair. and she has all these hipster clothes and spectacles and has a pop-up world book where she is an artist and has a beret hipster hat and i feel like vomitting she is so cute.

VOMIT!



so get ready for more tiny-blythe pictures.

oh and for last minute xmas gifts walk your stupid ass on over to magic pony and say hi to kristin and steve and say raymi sent you and then you can all hug and stand around being socially awkward and then you buy something because you feel obligated and shy and then you go home and write about it in your journal and gush about how an inanimate object could possibly bring so much joy that you are keeping it for yourself and your cousin larry can just go fuck hisself this year.

that piss-ant.

rent king arthur if you haven't yet seen it. the lead dude is a hunk. and that chick what uses a bowstaff is hot city and she was only eighteen when they filmed the film but 'cos she has an accent she might pass for 23 24 25 whatever.

wait oh yeh it's christmas soon.

uh.

enjoy.

dear snow

hi, we got a lot of you last nite and when we were walking to the beer store i picked you up and threw you in fil's face and he couldn't do anything about it because he was carrying a 12-pack with both hands and the sidewalk was all slippery and i only did it because he kept tripping me the whole way to the movie store and back and so i finally snapped though too bad it wasn't packing snow because it just sprinkled all over his head instead of his face and he was wearing a hat even so it was like nothing.

ps. i taught myself the napoleon dynamite dance so this means i am 1 notch cooler or so.

bye snow.

I just got off the phone with my mom.
Did you know she reads my blog?

"I saw something on your blog," she said. "It's in the comments. I
don't know if it's a remnant of something...I don't know what it is,
but I don't think it belongs there. I think it's a mistake. I just
thought you should know. You might want to get rid of it."

When I finally figured out what she was talking about, it was this:

and they also have to realise you have an erection the entire time
because u are always talking to 18 years olds with fucked accents who
are babes
raymi | Email | Homepage | 12.19.04 - 11:17 pm | #

"Oh. no, ma, that's not a mistake. That's from raymi."

"I thought it was from raymi, but I couldn't be sure. (t freaks me out
that she even knows who you are) I just didn't know if you wanted that
on your site. It looks like a mistake. It didn't make any sense."



"Of course I want it on my site. Raymi's my friend. And it makes total
sense. You just don't understand her train of thought, that's all."

"I think she's in love with you."

"What are you talking about. Ma? She's not in love with me."

"Well, how do you know?"

"'Cause, I know. For one thing, she has a boyfriend, second of all, she
lives in Toronto. There are lots of reasons."

"Oh. Okay, well..."

"Maybe you shouldn't read my blog anymore."

"But I enjoy it."

Ooophffaaa

xo
Jamie

i got tony's book yesterday and i took it to my crazy doctor appointment and it sat there across from me on the other chair while i talked about things that made me angry and then i took it to the bar and showed it to adan and i went thru it to look at all the parts that had my name in it and i am like see THERE right THERE

ME!

fuck yeh.

thanks tony. you are a big pile of amazing.

and you know what? out of all the bloggers who suck your dick now, i found you first and linked you first, well after i emailed you a hundred years ago and then you linked me and now everyone knows about me/you.

i discovered your loser-ass and now i own you.

ps you are gay.

and everyone else should buy his book because it creates more blogger awareness and such and makes tony feel better about life and then more girls will crawl thru his back screen door and then he can write about it like he's bukowski forever and ever and ever.

hi Raymi,

when i started to read your blog, about 18 months ago, i only had found some anoying ones, writen by ugly people who didn't even know how to express themselves.
Your blog was a shock i'd say.
Right now, i'm writing from my job (it's 00h22 here, and i work as a receptionnist in a three star hotel).
I use to surf on the web, reading blogs and stuff every day, sometimes at night too, and, most of the time, this is quite boring grrrrrrrrrrrr...
I love to go out at night in some bars and night club i know, meet new people, and, as all my guests are foreigners, i learn a lot about other countries, and this is the most interesting part of it.
I've never been in USA or CANADA, but this will be my next trip.
sometimes, i'm so fuckin' lazy too...surfin' all day while drinkin' beers and smokin' weed. fucked up days, but not as useless as they seem to be.
Music is very important to me and i think i could'nt live without some.
i love rock, trip hop, electro, acid jazz, and a bit of hip hop (east or west coast i don't give a shit).
people i love and admire (for any reason): michael schumacher, iggy pop, edward norton, tricky, and YOU.

love,
fred

this is remy. remy is fucking awesome because her name is kind of like raymi. she's a crabby bitch that bosses around the three other dogs in the house and they are all like whatever, shut up. remy is the mom of sophie and ollie. max is the fourth dog but not the father of sophie and ollie. ollie is kind of retarded and sophie is a smaller version of ollie although they were born at the same time, ollie is bigger. and they look nothing like remy. sophie was my favorite at first because she is the littlest and cutest and if you throw her a tennis ball or a little rope-thing she comes back over and over and over and over again and you feel all special because this cute little thing is around you all the time and you think, man, all animals love me i am the ultimate animal super action hero but then after your fifth visit you are like OH MY GAWD HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU NEED ME TO THROW YOU YOUR TENNIS BALL!??!

#%@$#%@#@$%@%#$!

and you realise that everything that annoys you about the add dog is what annoys you about yourself so then you are not allowed to be annoyed but you still are because sophie is looking at you and nudging the ball at you and growls when you give her cut-eye so you take the tennis ball and try and chuck it far far far far away and hope that it lands in a closet or in someone's jacket and sophie disappears for a little while and you can get back to watching that pbs special but then

lo and behold, sophie comes back and you are like, ARG.

but because she is so cute you put up with it.



if she were one of those ugly dogs, suffice it to say, you'd be like, screw off, throw your own damn ball.

nah.

so yeh, sophie was my favorite but now it is a tie between her and remy because remy just sits in the same spot on the couch and acts like queen shit and everbody accomodates her and she has a shivery cute anxiety attack when it smells like burning from the kitchen because she thinks the fire alarm will go off and she is terrified of it and then everyone goes awwwwwwww and we all try and hug her at the same time and then we look around at each other and feel all gay over this dog.

and then we leave.

the end.

dear raymi

he fuckin shit it's been a long time since i fuckin whatever. so there.
hope you are doing well i can't tell from your website but then i am
just getting in touch with old friends because I LIKE BEER, and i am
allowed.

michael


michael who?



hey raymi whats up it's your old internet buddy from way back when oh five
months ago..

i went to philadelphia and buried my dad then went back to vancouver.. i was
there for two
months..now i'm back in vancouver and things are hellish and i'm
considerable pain and agony..

how do you manage to be such a static person? not meaning your not dynamic
but rather,
dynamicly static...it's a feature..

i was in toronto for a day..it was nice. i saw the city hall and thats about
it..



i went to NYC as well..hung out with a fellow who looked like busta rhymes
and called himself
cleavland..i was only there over night..stayed at a place called the
carter..my kind of place.

i'm away from work maybe permanantly..trying to sort out some EI and other
things having to
do with my also closet sized apartment packed with records and gear and
clothes..WELL..

i'm bored and lonely..i'm going out to see golden wedding band play tonight
..great jazz band..maybe the only one in canada..

i'm working on a nice mix cd when the time comes i can probably even drop in
in your gmail
account...

well drop me a line ..

did you ever find a raymi-job? ..i think i need one of those..

anyways bye for now.



i am able to remain dynamically static because i am a fucking drunk
and depressed and i have a dysfunctional life and maybe no one
wants to see/help me become not static because then i will be able to own
the cn tower and everyone will be afraid i will forget all about them,
this way i am attainable and controllable.

so when fil went to the bathroom on the train i say oh let's do something wacky like, not be here when he comes out and so because we are hyper and immature and drinking we do it and we start giggling like mental and fil comes out and gives us the majorest dirty look ever through the window of the other train car and he has on bunny ears and that pirate toque and decides for the sake of pride or something he has to stay in his spot over there and we are like ok which one of us is gonna go and smooth it over and since i am the sucky nancy boy all the time i go over and say all this sweet pussy shit and he still won't budge and then steve goes over and takes off his pants and me and aimee stay in the other car drinking and discussing deep heavy shit and then we are at union station and i am like dood i am totally going to CRAP!



and then we meet up with fil's grandparents on the subway and when aimee was standing up taking this foto some guy steals her seat and i start laughing at her as loud as i can.

then we go to this yuppiescum hang out and aimee accidentally knocks beer to the floor and a piddle of it gets on this loser's leather jacket. oh no. and he makes a big fuss over it and i scream yo aimee forget about it leave it all over the floor, not realising it had got on his jacket.

then on the roofpatiosmokingplace we scream DIE YUCKY CUM which means yuppie scum.



and then fil burns his finger on those heater things and his ears almost set on fire and we get all the yucky cum to sing happy birthday at him with us and i am like yo this is like oakvegas but ten times meaner/annoying because there are even more of these people hanging around.

like fuck, nyc use to be the uptight mean place, but it's not, it's totally toronto and these people have no right to be this way. they don't even get out of your way when you are like excuse me, all polite, but when you are EXCUSE ME in the rudest snob tone you can muster, they move and smile at you and say sorry and then you are YOU BETTER BE FUCKER they are all turned on by it.

fucking bay street fuck. and the four girls who think they are in sex in the city. just looking at you makes me sleepy.



every single person on the smokepatio was wearing spectacles.

um hello it's friday nite in yorkville what is this a library?

then i shoved aimee into the men's bathroom after fil and she was taking her pants off to moon him and then i held the door open for 5 boring sweater guys and me and steve are like RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW totally DOOD and other stupid crap i can't wait 'til we are kicked out of this house of boredom but as hard as we tried it just wouldn't happen.

so we left on our own accord and fil was getting annoyed a bit which made us up the ante and we are at the church for the show and sitting in pews trying to take pictures but we're all sloshed and some fat girl tried to tell off fil about his obnoxious bunny ears in her way and he's like shut up hussy i'll take them off when the show starts, man!

me aimee steve fell asleep during most of the show.

aimee cried 'cos she was all moved.



i went to use the bathroom and asked if i could slip out for a smoke but the dude was all universal soldier styles and official like the place is under attack and says that i am not allowed so i gave a bunch of attitude vibes and went back to the pews.

during the cabride back aimee and i started fighting with each other finally and i don't remember about what and everyone was annoyed and tired and cold and chainsmoking and that's the basics, right there.

wow, gmail said i could invite 10 friends to use the shit. does this mean i am gmail's favorite or what? does anyone want one? i can't think of anyone in particular who i should "surprise" with a gmail account so if you are one of these poor sods, email me and i will gmail you and then we can walk around correcting old people when they use the word email in conversations, we can go, no you uncool old person, the correct term these days is g-mail.

like, holy!



ok that wasn't very funny was it?

anyhow i just took a number two and i feel like the epitome of awesome right now and the cat is like, high 5.

that there is a picture of me and aimee on fil's birthday. we were at green room after a long full day of other birthday things and that emily haines show



and we started drinking e.a.r.l.y. quite so and by the time we were at green room we were very very obnoxious and this circle of older persons on the patio smoking and drinking tried to be all clever at us and we totally attacked them to the point that the one girl wearing a beret had to leave with her boring sensitive guy-friend and then aimee said i want that fucking pitcher so we started being nice.

i went over finally because my balls are bigger than aimee's and i said ok so since we are friends now, while i was filling up my empty pint glass with their pitcher and then the old stoner guy was like wow you guys are so real and other hippie shit and i was like, yah mon! real. always.

heh.

fil was filming the entire thing and after i saw it i felt like a big scarey meanie with an annoying smoker's voice who screams at all the children on her street from the veranda because they are all having fun and my hair is in a tight bitchy bun and i have spaghetti sauce stains on my apron.

yah, i felt like that.



when we got back, mefilsteve played the i am something game you have ten tries to guess what i am 'til 5 in the morning and they were totally taking it seriously, like, all the f.u.n. out of it, being all technical and i am like for f sakes i am a fucking simspon's character JUST FUCKING GUESS WHICH ONE I AM MY EYES ARE SQUINTING IN ON THEMSELVES JUST FUCKING BLOODY GUESS ALREADY WHAT ARE YOU SCIENTISTS!??!

and then i was angry that they guessed it correctly by the tenth question.

where is the challenge in that?

and they were too cool to play my survivor game, but not too cool to open it up and make fun of all the cards inside it.



when people make fun of survivor or reality shows i get real mad. ok, i get real mad at a lot of things, but i especially get real mad when they make fun of survivor because they always say the same thing, oh yah well i saw the first series like one episode and it was so gay, durdurudur.

and i'm like SHUT UP PISSANT, we're on series 8 or something now and you are still whining about the first one, get fucked! you don't see me making fun of you for watching that crappy cottage country show all the time.

urg.

survivor is great because it brings out the worst in everybody and you always want the one that gets picked on a lot to win but that never happens because it is always the deceiving jerkbag who wins and each series they get crabbier and crabbier and you are like YES SUFFERING!



and then when you are out some place and there is nothing to talk about you can start talking about survivor like it is the most important thing in the universe and then someone inevitably starts dissing it and you can turn into the incredible hulk and scream at them about some random immunity challenge and get all deep and insightful about the women's rights movement and the person totally shuts up and realises that all the opinions they've ever had since the beginning of time before ever having met you , are WRONG, and then they start soul-searching and come to the conclusion that their emotional needs weren't properly met as a child and they need to go find themself...

right.



arguing is what keeps me going.