ok so we have already seen this picture. however, i just watched the shining and i was disturbed to observe how similar i look in this picture to that of the freaky redRum boy in the shining. you be the judge.

i can’t believe i successfully carved my pumpkin without cutting off a finger or gouging the back of my hand. i baked the seeds too. they burned, of course. got my hair dyed/cut today. s’well as one of those manicure things and that hair that grows above my eyeballs – had that ripped outta my face too. they’re called eyebrows. after the lady tore off the cloths and the wax i asked her if i was bleeding.

“You no like the feeling of the pain?”

“Uhhh, not particularly on that part of my body.”

my mum insisted on the manicure and the wax torture session. not that i had a uni-brow, just cause, well, she’s a mother who likes to have hair yanked out of her body instead of shaving it off. i don’t care. the beautician lady told me that the hair of each eyebrow grows differently, like in different directions. great, i’m a freak. even when it comes to the directional growth of my eyebrow hairs.

“Your nails are so short. Do you bite them?”

No. liar

this is why I dye my hair, i do my own eyebrows and i don’t get manicures. it’s just not worth paying someone, to badmouth your beauty rituals for a couple hours. Although, the hand massage definitely felt good.

ok so i will admit, i do like how my nails look. and hair.

ok ok ok

so i didn’t have a heart attack, it was more like, eighteen searing chest pains and 3.5 anxiety attacks. that day sorta sucked until i left to go party downtown. we started out at this totally lame party, danced like robots to crappy bon jovi tunes, polished off the keg then left for zen lounge. zen lounge wouldn’t let us in so we went to velvet underground. this chick with a rainbow afro wig and glowing devil horns got in trouble from her boyfriend for dance-humping with me. he’s all, “I turn around for one minute and yer dyking it out on the floor!?” it was great. then back to zen lounge. we were nicer the second time around so they let us in. on our way outta the place this psychotic bouncer screamed at us for walking out the wrong door, then he slammed the door. i don’t like being screamed at very much.

long story short.

i was traumatized but no, there were no heart attacks.

here’s me after playing glow in the dark mini putt tonite. i am excited because i lost horribly. then we saw 13 ghosts.

i don’t think i will be seeing scarey movies anytime soon. my little gay heart can’t take it.

tomorrow i’ll post pics of what the inside of the place looks like. there’s one of me humping some of the orange glowing boulders. You know, basic poses.

i think i’m having a heart attack

Right now i am a big retard because this lemon NeoCitran stuff is kicking in. i am breathing like a big fat man, labored, all gross and heavy and through my mouth. everytime i bend over my nose starts running and my eyes get all teary. being sick sucks.

do u like people who are nervous all the time?

i don’t.

especially when they are talking to me. i know they are nervous and it’s my fault. because they are talking to me. that in turn, makes me a big nervous idiot. so the conversation between us, is something like, “oh yahhh, so i uhhm, i heard you’re back now, eh?” “yahh yahh i’m back. it uhh, feels kinda (insert ridiculously long, awkward silence) weird to be back. But it’s ok. i guess.” “yah, i saw your brother the other day. where is he living at uhh,(unnnnnnnnghhh…..) live now?” “Oh him, yah he lives near that old church. you know (dumb chuckle) the one that…….”

this is why i avoid people, looking at or talking to.

i think i should hide in my bedroom for the next few days. i keep getting more sick. yesterday i drank half a bottle of robitussin, had some weed and a few beers. that didn’t cure shit. rented that trash movie Heartbreakers with sigourney weaver and jennifer love hewitt. unnnngh. it is so bad and so long. neither actress was built to play a conniving little slut. luckily i was all looped-up, otherwise i’d be more pissed off. ah well.

last nite my friend and i were talking about dating and fucking and stuff. we both realised that there is no such thing as third base, or second. we go straight to fucking. weird. i wonder when that happened and how. don’t understand people who don’t want to have sex with me right away. if they’re all, “uhhhh, maybe we should slow down a little bit.” why the hell should we slow down? This is the guy who wants me to have his babies, buy a townhouse and minivan. gross.

I do understand that i’m the only one of my kind and not everyone is into the things i am into or comfortable with. But it’s gotten to a point where i can’t relate very well with those who won’t/can’t be outrageous. i get annoyed or irritated, confused even. Somewhere along the line, that normal, unpervy chunk of my brain, fell out of my head.

15 year old raymi

i have a sore throat

the sneezes

runny nose

i am drinking hot chocolate

my hair is a big gay mess

i am wearing weird black wool leggings

and a big grey sweater

i keep walking into things all over the house

i have not said a word all morning

it hurts to speak

i scared the mailman away

so right now, my current obsessions are origami, cute stationary, hello kitty crap (stickers and shit), more stickers. i am currently satisfied with 7 moosehead in the fridge (canadian beer) a few lame smirnoff ice things and a lil bit o’ weed. i’m back in canada for the time being. livin’ with me mum. it feels weird to be back here and no matter how hard i try, there is no coherent way for me to describe this feeling to someone. i notice that we canadians actullay Do say eh all the time. i think i am saying eh more, now that i am back. maybe cuz i knew all my yank friends were just waiting for it to slip outta my mouth so they could laugh, and subconsciously, i dunno, i just couldn’t say it around them.

but now……

every other sentence has an Eh at the end. i keep thinking an american will randomly appear or something and start laughing. then i realize i’m back in CaNAdA.

you can’t get poutine or ketchup chips in the states. no wonder they’re all, um, sensitive and uptight.

when i was 6 i stole three packs of gum from Dominion Supermarket. my mum found them in my room and told me that i would have to go back and admit to stealing, then return them. Though, we were leaving for the cottage the next day so i was to do it when we got back, 2 weeks later. so, i was petrified the whole two weeks, obsessing about the confrontation that would ensue. my whole summer vacation, ruined. fucked. so, we get back after the two weeks, i am all prepared for my mum to drag me back to Dominion. days and days go by and nothing. i think she’s forgotten about the whole thing. Eventually i forget about it too, until the time i was snoopnig thru her drawers for change when i come across, a bazillion gum wrappers – all of the same brand i had stolen. my mum had been eating away at them the whole time, all the while causing me to be unnecessarily scared and guilty about it.

so mean.

Interview with a prude……

Mr. John Tillison: So um, you want me to publish this story you wrote about you humping little girls on my christian website?

raymi:Yeh sure.

Mr. John Tillison: (Long pause) Ok, um, are you even a Christian?

raymi: I went to a catholic school, from kindergarden to grade 8. I went to a catholic highschool, but left after grade 9. To a public school, where you were not allowed to have any religious propaganda whatsoever.

Mr. John Tillison: Why did you leave?

raymi:well, i didn’t like taking religion classes and i had this teacher who encouraged me to question faith and to not take everything in the bible literally. he told me the bible was bullshit and all the stories in it were made-up. just so to prove that GOD is almighty and powerful and weird things like that.

Mr. John Tillison: That scoundrel ! Please tell me the school this man taught at and where I might reach him now.

raymi: Dude, no way. He was the best teacher i ever had.

Mr. John Tillison: I can tell you one thing Raymi, there is not a chance in high heaven that I would EVER feature stories of your calibre and subject my readers to. You, dear raymi, need discipline AND a new-found trust in your savior.

raymi: yah whatever, i’m bored of you already. i didn’t want to be on your psychotically christian, boring-as-fuck website in the first place. i am only using you as material for my slutty site. you should check it out someday.

Mr. John Tillison: No offense, but i am blocking you from contacting me on msn – ever again. goodbye.

i changed the name of the christian guy for his sake of privacy and yes, mr. john tillison is the name of all my teddy bears.