dear raymi in the mix


do you know i love you?

its true.

anti knows, so it’s cool.

and it’s not dirty love anyway, it’s sweet bloggy love. partially dirty. i cant lie. but not really cuz im olde.

i envy you rameee you and your man. you two can do anything

and everything you type is funny and cool and not as canadian as i thought it would be, except the weed.

in so many ways you are the epitome of canada.

you get away with murder. you parlez francios when you think we’re listening. you smoke. how youre not the biggest thing in rock is beyond me. you take off your clothes and write better than most of them and still theyre all oh shit my boss might see and they go back to being stupid.

when can we have our tv talk show?

when will you blog again?

when will canada forgive us?

what school will we send our kids to?

its people like you raymi, and anti, that make me want to go back to the suburbs.

i want you two to live next door and our kids to get in fights with each other and then make up as they build a halfpipe with wood they stole by the lake.

i want to tell my kids not to eat your brownies.

i want to enter a dozen failed businesses with anti

funded by our one real success

the strip club



magic store.

even after david blane and david copperfield got those hot chicks the kids still didnt learn their magic tricks

until the magic store showed up.

oh raymi.

this time last year you had four five blogs rolling.

is that a wedding band?

i hope so.

i miss you.

thanks for not bringing sars to hollywood but why am i coughing so much?

yours in Christ,


ray me + az anti + which rhymes with jay me

karisa tells me that connecticuit girls are crazy.

karisa, though, is one of the craziest girls i ever met.

Adrienne T. Samen (pictured) got married saturday night in South Windsor, Conn.

when the restaurant that she was having her reception in closed the bar, the 18 year old newly wed got beligerant and started throwing shit.

all sorts of shit.

vases, plates, glasses, even her own wedding cake.

i dont see any problem with that.

does that make me crazy?

i think that a woman on her wedding night, in her wedding dress, should be allowed to trash her reception area all she wants. especially if they cut her off from the pink champagne.

whats a cuter sight than a drunken teen in a strapless dress hurling a wedding cake across a bennigans?

two drunk teenage brides going rockstar on a reception.

weddings are so special that i would go as far as to say that if a bride wants to break everything in the place she should be allowed to, as long as the only person that she harms is herself.

everyone knows her old man is going to have to pay a bundle to get her hitched, why not keep the tab going?

and what sort of weasly establishment wouldnt want to get a few new vases and mirrors and lamps and mooseheads on account of the feisty young lady.

but more importantly, since when do you cut off the bridal party on her big night?!!?

booze should flow until the morning.

thats the america that i believe in.

adrienne, you can marry me anytime you want baby.

i want to be the name across your tattoed heart as soon as they let you out of the pokey.

love always,

marc brown

leah + seliot + oliver

i dont know why good things happen to me.

have we discussed this before? i think we have.

lets just say that good things happen to me and keep happening and then some bad things happen and then a lot of good things happen to make me forget about the bad things, and then other good things happen and then the ladies knock on the back door and then they come in and then they dont leave and then there they are in the morning and then more good things happen and then they drive me to the busstop.

before the busstop i was standing there naked dripping wet from a nice morning show. its hot in la and so my showers have toggled to the colder just so as to cool off. and a ridiculously well built girl was drying her hair with my snoopy towel and i was thinking how i wanted to just stand around my house dripping wet and naked for the rest of the day.

how could i call in sick and make this happen?

ive found that i think of a lot more things than i actually do these days.

i think about all the letters i want to write people, and all the things i want to fix up around my house.

i think about all the photo essays i want to write and all the cds i want to download and burn.

i think about all the jobs i want to have and all the traveling i want to do.

i think about how differently my life would be if i could only stop time and get unshackled from the responsibilities that i have and actually go do a study on the best taco in east la or the best place to get a burger on the beach.

ive never actually hiked to the hollywood sign.

ive never been to catalina.

or the playboy mansion.

theres so many things that i need to do here in hollywood.

and yet i could have stayed in my christmas light lit room all morning today, taken a nap with that hot girl, ordered in some chinese and drank sake with her until the sunset.

but that wouldnt ever happen.

my life is good, not perfect.

gastbook + knives out + perfect gallows