it's like killing a unicorn with, like, a bomb.

Story up later. I have to do some actual work.
 
[Incidentally, I based this set on yet more recent real-life experiences. I won't go into it, but suffice to say that nightlife photographers and their websites will strike fear into my heart until the day I die.]

[50 Muse Challenge - Taylor Momsen]
 
This is the first set I've done in AGES that doesn't have a soundtrack. I wanted "Jennifer's Body" by Hole but they don't have it, and I just couldn't think of anything else TayTay-appropriate. This might be because I've consumed so much energy drink in the last week that pretty soon I'm probably going to start [excuse the expression] peeing Red Bull.

[50 Muse Challenge - Lindsay Lohan]
 
I like her and I ain't give a fuuuuck. I used to get told I looked like her when she was younger, red-haired and less frightening; one time in about 2005 my friend texted me to say my picture was in the paper and it ended up being her. It was a good day.

http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/group.show?id=80508. JOIN.
 
[2/50 - Blake Lively]
 
I think I've finally remembered how to make decent sets after my absence, even if it means totally swagger-jacking "Marie Antoinette". I couldn't decide which song to have as the soundtrack, so there are two. Both are amazing. Yes, one is from the soundtrack of the aforementioned "Marie Antoinette". Haters gon' hate.

My first DRC set in ages!

Hi! I'm back from my holiday [even though I'm planning to move to NYC next year, yes it's really that good] so here's a set! I'ma do some RP ones when I get some ideas for stories.
 
Oh and I changed my Twitter name: http://twitter.com/__charmlessgirl. Lez be fraaaanz.
 
This is one of my favourite songs ever.

HEY GUYS. I'm so sorry for disappearing unexpectedly, I'd like to say it was because I was busy being the meat in a Levi Johnston/Adam Brody sandwich but unfortunately it was only because my computer decided to exercise its right to explode.
 
BUT ANYWAY. I'm currently in New York and have very sporadic internet. You should all totally be my Facebook friends [the link is on my profile] because I can get that on my iPod and everyone I know is deleting theirs so it's really boring.
 
I'm about to go to a party after spending all day trying to replace my ghetto-ass black ballet flats in which I've managed to wear holes in just over a month, with no luck. I wish I was one of my RP characters - Amanda Hillman would never have this problem. So I have this amazing new outfit until you look down and see crappy black flats. Fail. But when I get home or tomorrow, I'll read my messages and catch up [as far as possible] on all your sets! I can't wait to see them!
 
Oh, and if you like, tell me what's been going on in the roleplays I'm in!
 
<3 <3 <3

If you know the song that the title came from, I think I love you. AND I'm really really really tired, so I'll respond to messages/fave sets tomorrow night! Sorry! <3
 
Story:
 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 
I slam down another Miller Lite and look at the band on stage, wondering exactly what the hell makes them so special that 350 kids will cram in here on a Tuesday night and bang their shaggy, spiked or mohawked heads to every song like they’re witnessing the second coming of Jesus. Fu.ck homework, right?
 
So do they have a gorgeous lead singer like The Stranglers or Regina and the Reddies? No, they have a six-foot-six beanpole who looks like Mr Potato Head in drag. Do they have a cool stage show like GWAR? Nah, they rarely even face the audience. Are they innovative like the Talking Heads? Yeah, right. They write three-minute, three-chord blasts of noise about school and cars.
 
But in spite of [or perhaps because of] all that, we love them. The crowd goes apeshit as Johnny Ramone bangs out the last chord in “I Wanna Be Sedated” and Mr Potato Head clears his throat.
 
“So guys?” The crowd cheers. See, this kid only has to say “so guys?” and it’s like he’s promised to buy them all a new car. “You may be aware that Tommy’s not with us tonight. He had something, um, come up.”
 
“Yeah, that something probably just came up Rita Skyy’s poop chute,” says Regina, draining her beer. “Like we don’t all know why he’s not here. Seriously, that guy’s such a manwho.re.”
 
It’s true. And God only knows how he manages it - while he might be a step or 10 up from Joey in the looks department, he still has a fair way to go before he catches up to, say, Paul Simonon. Hell, Paul SIMON’s got a better chance at doing the Blitzkrieg Bop in my lady parts than Tommy. But clearly he – and the dozens of girls he scores – feel differently.
 
“So, uh, we got a replacement, just for tonight. I’d like you guys to meet… Elvis Ramone!” He gestures toward the drumkit and a guy with shorter hair than the rest and wearing black shades steps forward.
 
“Hey guys, how ya doin’ tonight?” We give the new guy a loud welcome. “Wow, thanks, that’s really cool of you. So this is gonna be our last song, we hope you’ve enjoyed the show!”
 
He takes his shades off and wipes his forehead.
 
Oh my God.
 
“Sh.it!” I grab Sammie and Regina’s arms and point. “That’s him!”
 
“Who?” asks Sammie, more concerned with the progress Sid’s hand is making up her skirt.
 
“That Burke guy! He’s drumming for the Ramones.”
 
“What the fu.ck? Man, I wish I hadn’t said no when they asked me,” says Jim Reddie. “Look at all the love he’s getting.”
 
“Well, jackass, maybe that’ll teach you to have shot-drinking contests with Bators and Chrome,” replies his brother. “Those guys fu.cking BREATHE alcohol.” He walks behind Sid and flaps Sid’s arms. “IIIIII am the porcelain goooooddd!” he howls. “Repent before meeee!”
 
Jim looks like he’s about to repent all over his clothes. He runs to the bathroom, just as the last song ends.
 
“Hey, guys? I’m gonna go backstage and see if I can find out more about this Burke kid. See you round.”
 
I walk backstage, where the Ramones [and the one sham-one] are packing up their stuff. I did some speed before the show, so I’m feeling pretty confident. I walk up to Burke and squeeze his buttocks.
 
“Hey kid, you feel like being my hunk o’ burning love?”
 
I have to point out that when I’m not, um, under the influence, the likelihood of me ever a) going up behind a guy I’ve never met and groping him, and b) using a line like that is similar to the likelihood of me getting off with Jim Morrison. And he’s been dead for eight years. But right now I’m flying high.
 
He turns around and smiles. “Hey, you’re that chick who sang with the Reddies last week, right? I remember you.”
 
Wow. Cool. He actually remembers me. “Yeah, that was me. Was I so bad it left a lasting imprint on your memory?”
 
He smirks. “Yeah, you were terrible. Actually, I have no idea what you sounded like, ‘cause I was too busy being distracted by those blue hotpants. Our singer’s got the same ones, but I gotta tell you, I think you look better in ‘em. But don’t tell her that, she’d kill me.”
 
That’s right, he’s in that blonde girl’s band. “I’ll try not to. Although right now I don’t know who she is, so you have nothing to worry about.”
 
“Oh. I’m in Queenie and the Kings. I’m a King.”
 
Yes, you sure are. And I’ll polish your sceptre any time. “Hey, I went to school with that chick. But she wasn’t called that then. Her name was Deborah – guess that wasn’t very rock ‘n’ roll.”
 
He laughs. “You’re not wrong. But my name’s a thousand times worse. I’m Clement. Or Clem.”
 
“Hey, that’s a cool name. I don’t know anyone else called that. And I’m Kristal, but most people call me Kris.”
 
“Oh, I know. I remember Regina introducing you, I’d been hanging out to find out your name all night.”
 
I can feel myself blushing.
 
“So anyway,” he says, “Me and the guys have gotta jet. But can I call you sometime?”
 
Wow. It’s been quite the few days for guys asking me that – first David Robinson from the Cars, then David Johansen [he was high, but still], now Burke. I’ve got a date with one David tomorrow night and I’m hanging out with the other one the next day, but after that my week’s pretty much free. And this guy is attractive.
 
“Sure.” I write down my number on the back of a matchbook and hand it to him. “Are you coming to the Talking Heads show on Friday night?” [After which I had originally planned to add another David – Byrne – to my collection, but maybe that’ll have to wait].
 
“Yeah. Actually, we’re supporting them. So I guess I’ll see you there? Come backstage whenever you want.”
 
He smiles and walks off. Oh baby, you better believe I’ll come backstage. And I’ll talk so much to *your* head [the smaller one] that “come” might be the operative word.
 
Now, where did I put my emergency supply of plaster…

I made this really really quickly while procrastinating on going out and buying bleach. I've never bleached my own hair before and I'm quite nervous. This may not end well.
 
[ps - I know I still have two stories to do for my RPs, I'm having another dry spell when it comes to creativity. It sucks. But I will do them!]

I don't know what to call this. But you should go to the soundtrack and skip to "I Dig You" because it's awesome.