i made a flickr account! raymilauren.

last nite after martin had his loudmouth tequila out of the blue he insults my toque.

toque.

anyway he was going off about how when i left the house i must have thought i was hot shit and looked really cool or whatever and in my head i thought ok should i make a big deal out of this or should i let it go, cos usually with martin little things easily turn to full-blown arguments and i was like fuck you dude, i didn't think shit about myself when i walked out the door, that's why i'm wearing this fucking hat.

that's the part that made me angry, when people assume shit about how you think of yourself and ESPECIALLY when they drop the cool bomb.

martin is a metrosexual, he likes expensive things and 200 dollar t-shirts so if i told him that my hat was worth 2 bills he'd be all over it.

turns out he had ulterior motives, he wanted the hat for himself so his tactic was to insult the shit out of me so i would be all OK here you go, take my fucking hat.

oh and then i walked into the big screen television at the pub.

the end.

someone took our foto in vancouver at the arts county fair.

anyway, last nite when i got home i tried to fuck fil but i was completely trashed and he had already passed out, it was pretty pathetic. i even took off my underwear and threw it at the wall to try and seal the deal but niente. fil was like you should have come with me but i was all DUFF GARDENS HURRAH and so on though i did say that i was going to have sex with him regardless when i got home.

then i had to decide whether i was going to have a suck-attack or not.

but then i got the major spins instead and had to lie down in the hang glider position until i fell asleep.

i just got back from the store where i said good morning to everyone although it was half past 1 in the afternoon and then i could barely stand up waiting in-line for 5 seconds. think i'm drunk still.

this post RULES! in your face!

ps. no horny comments being all I WOULD LET YOU HAVE SEX WITH ME and shit. thanks.

hey papa kerouac, how's it going? are you still sharing your orange juice every morning with those wasps that buzz around the ole backyard? that's nice.



oh hey nana (right) and auntie W. (left) you guys so totally do not dye your hair.

probably the scariest most craziest woman in the universe. scroll down a bit and watch the video. holy crap i have to watch it again.

and oh yes, it is tony's birthday this saturday. i say this now because i drink a lot and tend to space out on dates and stuff. so yeh. happy birthday you old pile of fuck.

Sometimes when you are depressed and a drunk you feel like every sentence you put down is the same sentence, every word is also the same and every paragraph too. When you don't work on the story for awhile and then eventually come back to it you have to skim through it all over again and be like did I write that part yet? Did I complain about such and such?

This is when you are like fuck it, it doesn't really matter because this entire thing is bullshit anyway.

Being insanely self-critical and somewhat of a perfectionist about your writing and your personal story in general combined with booze and sadness equals NEVER GOING TO GET PUBLISHED NEVER GOING TO FINISH IT NEVER GOING TO NEVER NEVER NEVER.

i'm getting sick.

of all one hundred thousand tea bags here, not one, contains caffeine.

this angers me.

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they'll find me there.
it's Cherub, they'll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.
then, I'll rise with a roar,
rant, rage -
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
lawn.
I'll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
pink
overfed whale.
some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.

i think i finally found my true calling in life.

email from my mum.

Did you and Phil say I need new winter tires. Will you all buy me some? I could die in a snow storm and then who would you have to torment?

my new obsession is spying on women who knit things and discuss knitting sweaters for their babies and tiny little knitted wombs.

ok well i think that i've done all my chores and obligations for today so now i'm going to hit that left over wine and watch closer and pretend that i am witty like clive owen. oh and i am also having a good hair day today.

and all the tattoo girls at the coffeeshop hate me because they are three feet tall and i am an amazon and i always pay in nickels and dimes and i always ALWAYS always look fucked up. and they all have crushes on fil and i am his evil witch girlfriend.

NYUH nyuh NYuHHHHHHHHHHHH!

ps. this is what the cover of my next book looks like. also that painting will be for sale at canzine.

genius!



revolutionary!

raymi says:

http://xiaxue.blogspot.com/ her site is redesigned now

Jamie says:

"everyone's reading it"

Jamie says:

i'm listening to her stupid podcast

Jamie says:

i stopped

Jamie says:

it was boring

raymi says:

"I write for TNPS, Maxim, and SNAG magazine as a columnist. I also give talks about blogging, because someone killed the oldest blogger and made me the ultimate expert. You can invite me to events as media, and if I liked it I will blog it! Tempt me with the latest products and invite me to the greatest parties!!"

raymi says:

i didnt know she wrote for maxim

Jamie says:

she can barely speak english

raymi:

i speak english and i don't write for maxim

Jamie says:

her writing is lame

Jamie says:

how the hell does she write for anybody??

Jamie says:

"I feel very poor thing coz I haven't eaten the whole day!! And there is nothing at home to eat except Maggi Mee, which, believe it or not, I feel too lazy too cook."

Jamie says:

genius

raymi says:

i know

raymi says:

fuck

Jamie says:

maybe she writes for Maxim-China or something

Jamie says:

that's the kind of garbage that makes me embarrassed to have a blog

raymi says:

i dont understand half the shit she is talking about

Jamie says:

i know

Jamie says:

it's gibberish

Jamie says:

broken engrish

Jamie says:

you should write a blog in Chinese

raymi says:

i already do

Jamie says:

hahahhahaHAHAHHAAHA

ok so october 30th is closely upon us and as you know i will have a table at this thing and so will noel. i will have some copies of dear raymi and some art and i will also be selling print-outs of my new book MARKETABLE DEPRESSION that's not yet published, and of course i'll sign shit if you want it.

it goes from 1-7pm.

last nite this fat scraggily-haired woman plunked herself down in front of the megatouch machine for hours and hours so i sat at the other end of the bar and tried to make her feel middle class by scowling at her the entire time but she didn't even notice so i drew moustaches and penises and cum stains on every person in the toronto sun and got sloshed on red wine.

and i was forced to make conversation with fil and martin but eventually i got over myself and babbled on and on but mostly made fun of fil and i pronounced ferrari like far-harrhi no matter how many times i said it i fucked it up.




tonite is band practise. people get annoyed when i call it that and then they say "one time, in band practise...." and i feel like punching them in the face, ha ha that's funny and original and no one has ever fucking said that before. dink. i guess it should be called jam? or rehearsal? whatever.

i read some of my blog in my friend's blackberry last nite and i found that without the photos and my text all scrunched together-like, man i am pretty retarded-sounding.

early in the morning when transport trucks go by the apartment they sound something like the titanic and i smile because i picture them smashing through buildings and parked cars and people and lamp posts.

i broke a glass in the sink while washing dishes and cut my knuckle. someone took aimee's shoe out of the mailbox and threw it down the alley and i had to go and get it.



there is a little man who works at the salon on the corner who i'm forced to say hi to everytime i walk past and it gets on my nerves cos most times i just want to stare at the ground when i walk so now it's all seinfeld when i'm getting a coffee and next we'll have to kiss each other hello and then i spaz out about it and no one will like me anymore.

last nite fil was plastercized and he destroyed one of my boots, the sole came right off it and i said man my feet fucking hurt and he said take off your shoes, i'll TAKE OFF MY SHOES!



the show was great. my dad and the drummer of our band came out also and it was obvious that neither had been been around so many women before in a long time, it was cute.

more photos to come.



bearstorm