2011 is drawing to a close and what a year it’s been! This year, I helped Machinima launch several hit shows, livestream All The Things, and reach 1.1 Billion monthly views. (Plus, I was a pretty awesome vampire.) And now… I’m saying goodbye.

As some of you know, I’ll be moving on from Machinima to a company called the theAudience. It’s been no secret that my passion is music and it’s intersection with social media. theAudience will allow me to marry those passions and work with some incredible artists and people! It will also test Spellcheck’s ability to start sentences without a capital letter without totally freaking out.

Speaking of people, I want to take the time to really highlight the amazing people at Machinima. I don’t think the fans realize just how many truly talented, creative, passionate, driven, and phenomenal people work there. I literally walk around my office telling people how wonderful they are – and I mean it every time. The staff at Machinima is made up of some of the kindest, most gifted people I have ever had the pleasure of working with. As incredible as you think these people are, you are wrong because they are better than even your wildest dreams.

I want to give a shoutout to my amazing team. I’ve had the difficult task of building our Online Marketing department from the ground up and my team made it easy as pie. I’m lucky to have a group of talented individuals to support and grow our department, lending their unparalleled skills to our communal vision. As sad as I am to leave them, I know that they are going to rise to the occasion and exceed even my wildest expectations of them! The department has been left in the best hands possible to take it to the next level.

The amount of epic win in Machinima’s staff made it a difficult decision to leave. As you can see from my hastily constructed banners, these folks are a big part of my life. They aren’t just coworkers – they are friends. They are people that I hope I will know for the rest of my life.

With a staff like that, Machinima will continue to be a wild (and well-deserved) success. Every person there loves the company, and the gaming industry, and (most of all) the fans. I cannot tell you how much agonizing goes into trying to do what we believe is right for our fans every day. Machinima is a company that believes in it’s fanbase. I don’t think I’ve ever seen another company that cares more about it’s fans. It’s hard to find the balance between being a “company” and being a “community” but I think Machinima does an amazing job of that. The amount of love that the staff feels for what we do and the people who watch us do it is simply staggering.

I’ll be staying on with Machinima through the end of the year (because Santa would put coal in my stocking if I left my team to work over the holidays). But even after I leave, I hope to always be a part of the Machinima family.

As I said, leaving Machinima was a hard decision to make. But it’s also the right one for me, personally. One of the amazing things that Machinima is doing is (to use some totally new-age corporate speak) disrupting the TV model. Machinima and other online video makers are literally changing the way that we, as a culture, experience and consume video. It’s like what cable did to broadcast TV.

I want to disrupt music. I want to change the way artists, labels, management companies… the entire music industry interfaces with their fans and consumers. Music has had a hell of a time adapting to a post-Napster world. Even with Napster officially dead, the music industry is still struggling to adapt to the digital world. Things like iTunes and Spotify have made revolutionary changes but I think there is more work to be done. And I want to be a part of that. With theAudience, I believe I can be. I truly believe in the power of social media to radically change business and culture. It already has. And it will only continue.

I love music. I truly, truly love music. And I love social media. Billboard charts and EdgeRank are things that keep me up at night. Music is what I know. It’s what I went to school for. It’s what I’ve worked on and in since I was 15 years old. I’ve made some big career jumps before; from pro-audio to touring, touring to gaming. Working at Machinima has given me an amazing new skillset and some new eyes to apply to what I love most. I’m stoked to apply both skill and passion to my new position at theAudience. I’m hoping that I’m going to find a bunch of coworkers who are just as driven, talented, and phenomenal as my soon-to-be-former coworkers at Machinima. Knowing a few people over there already, I’m certain this will be the case. And since our offices are so close, hopefully I can just introduce everyone and we can have some of the best post-work dinner hangs ever known to mankind!

So thank you Machinima – from company to coworkers, fans to friends. It’s been an amazing two years. I grew from answering YouTube mail and QAing applications that didn’t exist to heading a department and contributing to top level strategy. It’s been great watching the company grow and exceed almost everyone’s expectations. It’s been so fun being able to talk to the fans every day and help to make sure their voice is a part of everything we do. I’m excited to see what you are all going to do next. Thank you for all the opportunities, the awesome times, and the ability to be a vampire on a bi-monthly basis!

To theAudience, I’m excited for this! 2012 might be the end of the world so, before the apocalypse, let’s bring the noise and change the world! I have a mark a mission a brand a scar to bring music back to the fans and fans back to the music. Together, I really believe that we can change the landscape of music and it’s digital space. Rev up the engines, I’m ready to rock and roll!

We could change things back. If we dreamed. We are dreams of the carrion kind, they say, and perhaps it is so. But if enough of us dream… if a bare thousand of us dream… we can change the world. We can dream it anew. - Neil Gaiman, ‘Dream of a Thousand Cats’   

“I don’t know how you manage to be SO nice and SO evil at the same time!”

Look trashy, act classy

“We’re at the point now where we’re beating the vultures that have been perched on the dead horse. #cainwreck“

And that sound you heard was that of a million political reporters hitting “send” on the story they wrote a month ago. #cainwreck

“I was really disappointed when I found out it was a printer ink cartridge and not a light saber.” #ThingsIActuallySayAtTheOffice

“Shut up, wind. You are a jerk. Stop blowing around LA for attention. We have groupies here for that already.”

“Deleting your facebook is like running away from home. Your just doing it for attention and you’ll be back in an hour.”

“Sometimes, you just want to hit other people in the mouth with a stapler.”

My first thought when I woke up this morning was ‘I need a walrus-to-English dictionary.’ WTF brain. A solid WTF

“They should remake The Breakfast Club where all the characters sit silently engrossed in their iPhones for eight hours.”

when i was young, i imagined that i’d skip my 10 year high school reunion & everyone would speculate that i’d died. thanks a lot Facebook.

“I’m actually a little insulted that Google thought I’d care enough about Wave being cancelled to send me an email”

“Toreadors. The sexiest of frenzies.”
“It’s not so much ‘sexy’ as ‘sassy’.”

Pondering #Occupying Something for fresh air.

Kiss my dementors!

Blood is the new black

This is not a protest. This is a process. #OccupyWallStreet

Late to work because I couldn’t find my fake fangs. #ElissaProblems

Have to wash the fake blood off my jewelry before I can wear it. #ElissaProblems

“Is a metric fuckton an official unit of measurement?”

“I can’t decided if Twitter is more or less effective than scrawling my thoughts inside a bathroom stall…”

“Well, shit. Apparently, I’m joining the Sabbat tomorrow. Gotta read up on all those rules and regulations about killing people…”

“I like Nine Inch Nails because they won a Grammy for a song with the phrase ‘fist fuck’ in it.”

“I’m a little sick, Kat’s a little slammed, and Elissa’s a little angry so… we’re all here.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m not gonna pretend every day is awesome. I’m a human being. Some days can suck my dick.”

“I didn’t know being a vampire required quite so many PowerPoint presentations.”
“Page 127 of the Book of Nod – ‘Thou shalt make a slide.’”

“Technically, the PowerPoint is for Werewolf. ‘When will you Rage’ isn’t just a tag line. Gaia needs a timeline and estimates.”

“I… I… don’t know how to say this… I’m watching Twilight.”
“Stay there. Don’t move. I’m calling 911.”

“IM GOING TO NEED YOU TO GET IAN SOMERHALDER TO LOVE ME KTHNXBAI”
“I don’t even know who that is. Is he gay? Because, if not, I don’t care.”

“Apparently, I have to start watching Dr Who and Battlestar Galactica or my nerd card is getting revoked. And I need that for tax breaks!”

“They need a WILF. They’ve had a MILF but they need a WILF.”
“What’s that? A ‘Werewolf I’d Like To Fuck’?”

“Can you tell your pet robot to stop yelling at us?”

California – a sunny place for shady people

“I’m boooooored. Can we go kill somebody?”
“I have homework. I can’t kill now.”
“You’re useless to me.”

OCCUPY WALL STREET!!!! WITH MY BALLS

“I wish Colonel Sanders would come over and make my kids some supper.”

“Hitler may have killed 3million people but he sure as hell saved the history channel” -possibly the most ridiculous tweet I’ve seen all day

“Not only do we not have teleporters or hoverboards, we don’t have a gun that shoots bagels. Future, you have failed me!”

“Did… did you just meow the Transformers theme?”
“Actually, I think it was the Jetsons.”

“Breaking news from the Internetz: Everyone hates everything.”

“I do believe it is time to dance. Let me check my watch and… yup. Yup. Time to dance. Bring your stompy boots and meet me in the alley.”

I’m sooooooo tired. I need meth or a nap. Either/or, really.

“Its like the Trojan him and her lube.”
“Which is amazing, btw”
“We don’t need a product review. This is a sign the meeting is almost over.”

“Hi. I’m Emily Jones. I’m an Architect by trade.”
“And a prostitute by choice.”
“No. I don’t charge.”

“Do you like to eat…. people?”
“I like a pint ‘o blood.”
“Where can I get people. In bulk?”
“Um…”
“Vampire Costco?”

“That man is a criminal.”
“We’re all criminals! You shot a room full of people!”
“No. I shot a boat full of people. That’s different.”

“So where would somebody go to get a box full of people around here?” – William, trying to be subtle.

Dear Walking Dead, I watch your show for zombies. If I wanted to watch a show about cheating whores getting pregnant, I’d watch Jersey Shore

Welp, Kim Kardashian officially has more followers than the President of the United States. Excuse me while I unfollow the human race.

“Women should come with one of those Sims style emotional state displays that lets you know if they are PMSing or not.”

“Here. Let me hold that grudge for you. I promise, I won’t ever let it go.”

Name: Evelyn Storm
Player: Elissa
Clan: Tzimisce
Generation: 11th
Nature: Dark Poet
Demeanor: Creep Show
Morality: Humanity
Attributes:
Physical: Brutal, Deadly, Dexterous, Fierce, Nimble, Steady, Tenacious, Tireless, Tough, Vicious, Wiry
Social: Callous, Cruel, Intense
Mental: Attentive, Clever, Creative, Depraved, Inhumane
Negative Mental: Unstable
Abilities:
Body Crafts X3, Brawl X2, Dodge X2, Occult, Stealth, Torture
Disciplines:
Visscisitude: Malleable Vissage, Fleshcraft, Bonecraft, Horrid Form
Auspex: Heightened Senses, Aura Perception
Blood: 12
Willpower: 4
Virtue:
Conscience: 2
Self-Control:  5
Courage:  3
Humanity: 3
Derangements: Manic-Depression
Flaws: Addiction (Alcohol), Prey Exclusion (Medical Profession)
XP: 5
(Humanity sold down by 1. I fully intend to go for Path of Metamorphosis as we play. Free traits plus derangement, flaws, negative traits, and humanity additions spent on 2 levels of advanced Visscisitude, 4 traits of Abilities, 4 traits of attributes.)

(I wanted to play this character as more on the bi-polar end so I added Unstable to reflect the truly intense nature of her derangement. Her flaws are explained in further detail in her background [below].)

There is a cultural ‘fact’, almost a running joke about serial killers – they are always the ‘good neighbor’ or the ‘nice but quiet guy next door’. The one that no one ever suspects. When the news crew shows up, the neighbors all say “Oh my word, I never would have thought! Why, he was always so polite!“

That’s not Evelyn.

The fact is, most female serial killers prey on those that they know. Some are ‘black widows’. They use their feminine assets and wiles to lure in men and deprive them of their wealth and lives. Some are ‘angels of death’, silently racking up massive kill counts in hospitals and asylums. Some are part of a team, commanded by another, more dominant predator. Some just kill for profit or revenge and end up portrayed by Uma Thurman.

None of these descriptions are Evelyn either.

Of course, she doesn’t think of herself as cruel and inhuman. She doesn’t think of herself as a killer. She is an artist, dealing in a medium that should mean more to the world then toxic paints or lifeless marble. What is more compelling than a canvas of flesh? What color is more beautiful than the carmine spray of fresh blood? The human body is a wonder and it is an insult not to wonder at it – inside and out. Art should be transcendental and, at its best, transform both the artist, subject, and viewer. Every artist wants you to walk a mile in their shoes, to see the world as they see it. But Evelyn wants more. She wants to walk in your shoes, crawl inside your skin, and stare out from your eyes. Then you can see the world together and oh! How much she can learn then! To see the world from a thousand pairs of eyes, to don the skin and soul of a thousand different lives… that is true art and transcendence. That is truly becoming something ‘more’.

The quiet nondescript neighbor, she is not.

While other little girls played house, she was dismembering her Barbies. While other children asked Santa for tin race cars and plastic ponies and big red firetrucks, she asked for a needle, some thread, and ‘the Art of Hand-Sewing Leather’. In school, when the playground bullies bloodied her, she used her own leaking fluids to fingerpaint. When concerned parents and horrified teachers sent her to therapy, she could only ask “why“?

They were always kind to her, that ever revolving column of doctors. They didn’t yell or cry about her rocketing moods. If black depression claimed her at her inability to get a painting or a garment just right, they would encourage her to ‘express’ her feelings. They always wanted to talk about her art and her visions. They encouraged her to try different mediums and artistic endeavors. Sweet doctors, they encouraged her to hone her body (“It’s a temple!“) and turn her energy into physical action. They taught her that she saw the world differently from others. All those loving, patient doctors… they taught her so much.

But they couldn’t help her stave off the depression. And they couldn’t hold in check the manic rage that often swept in behind it. They tried endless parades of drugs and treatments but Evelyn already knew the secret. Alcohol could blot out the worst of it, make her numb. The awful vice made her clumsy, some times. But it dulled the agony when her latest subject didn’t turn out just the way he needed to be.

The best thing about the crumbling state of the American medical system is that they often toss the criminally insane back out amongst society.

Never able to hold down a job for long, always hanging crudely taxidermied rat carcasses (and god knows what else) from the trees in her yard, Evelyn was anything but the quiet neighbor everyone liked. She was the one the locals loudly whispered was probably killing hobos in her basement. And when the police arrived to arrest her for all the hobos she had been killing down in that basement, there was a line two blocks long of neighbors wanting to get in front of a tv camera and say “I knew it! I knew she was crazy! She’s evil! She killed my cat!” Oh and the quotes the media got out of her! The lunatic in a leather jacket made of a plump mother of two, babbling about becoming ‘something more than human’? The ratings were through the roof!

She should have gone to the electric chair (although she wanted a hanging).

No one is sure what happened, really. One of those great miscarriages of justice, another awful bungling of an inept court system that proponents of criminal reform like to point to while their shaking their heads and asking for money for their charity. Honestly, who gives a woman held suspicion of mass murder bail? Is that even legal?!? How could our court system be so idiotic? Of course she was a flight risk! Of course she would disappear! It’s like Satan himself showed up and manipulated a judge or something! Like the Devil just waived his hand like a Jedi and said “this is not the serial killer you are looking for.” This just goes to show, we need reform in this country…

Jedi? Satan? Jedi Satan. Huh. Sounds like a good nickname for the Sabbat pack who sprung her free. Jedi Satan. That’s a good one!

It was remarkably easy for her sire to whisk her away from the tender clutches of the justice system and make her into a new little monster with a cute new face and nice new name. Evelyn is interested to see with even sharper eyes, to realize that there is something ‘more than more’. She’s set about trying to uncover how far this transcendental spiral goes. If she’s too much in her own head sometimes, well that is okay. So long as she doesn’t get under her pack’s skin (literally), it should be alright. Like her dear, sweet doctors, they have so much to teach her about this new state of being. And once she understands more, she can help open their eyes to what more they can all become. She’ll just need to touch them. Craft them. Just a little.

Name: Mad Hatter (aka Madeline Hatter)
Player: Elissa
Clan: Brujah
CENSORING STATS

My parents were real jokers. Lovers of puns (hence my name) but not to good on that whole “foresight” thing. They were always messing around, hamming it up, playing practical jokes and pulling stupid pranks. Dad the Director and Mom the Actress even took their pranks to the set. Yeah, the crew just loved their wacky hijinks… until they got too ‘hilarious’ near the explosive rigging and… well, I’m sure you read about it in the papers a few years ago. I nominated them for a Darwin Award in their memory. My sense of humor was always somewhat darker than theirs.

Inheriting a massive pile of money right around puberty isn’t as fun as it sounds. Mostly, it’s “long lost relatives” and their lawyers showing up every week trying to wrestle their way into your bank vault. And the media does love a good tragedy. But when even your miserly trust fund allowance has more zeros on it than their paychecks, it’s easy to just buy thick drapes and keep them closed. Eventually, someone else’s parents will blow themselves up in the middle of filming ‘Harder To Die 2: Explosive Vengeance’ and the camera vultures go nest outside their house instead. They still write articles about me every now and again. Hey, fame is good for free stuff… not that I need free anything.

Some would think the combination of loss and isolation would make me bitter and cruel but… hell, you’re never alone when you have the internet! Sites like 4chan were right up my alley. I dunno what it is about online anarchy that brings the lulz but it just does it for me. Anon is legion so you’re never alone. And, what’s better, Anon is anonymous so it doesn’t matter who you are or what bullshit happened to you. If I ever had a moment where I started to get sad about my personal doldrums, I just logged on. Fuck paying for a shrink, I have my own brand of head shrinkage, thanks. I think I’m perfectly well-adjusted.

Well, except for this latest twist. I’m still working on adjusting to that. See, when chan went from being havoc and mayhem just for fun and started to become hacktivist and anti-sec for real, I thought I had found my calling. I’m not a hacker by any means (but I love the movie). I’m a skiddie at best. But I still thought maybe I could do some good by going to a frou-frou East Coast college with all the bells and whistles. I’d get a good education, maybe a degree in psychology-journalism-political science-music-law-philosophy and make the world a better place. I’m smart, I like school, whatever, sure! A 2000-something on my SATs and a fat check later and I was a college gal. Yeah, that one. The famous one. I didn’t really fit in but whatever, hey, I was gonna learn me some learnins!

Learnin’ some learnins sucked. There’s not a lot of lulz to be had in PhilosoPsychJournoMusicLawPoliSci-ism. But where there are college kids, there are protests! And where there are protests there are signs to be waived around, people to talk to, and some craziness to be had! I took up with the #Occupy movement. I believed in it, kind of. I mean, I’m not 100% on what the motives are but I’m all for more people having what they need and taxing the rich and whatever. I am the 1% and I don’t give a fuck about my money. I stand with the 99% for heath care and ending the war and long cat is long! Okay, just kidding about that last one but you get the idea. I was into the spectacle more than the cause but I also like people. Sometimes, I get to talking and I get caught up in what I’m saying (not that I necessarily believe it but it’s fun to run with it sometimes) and… well… they must have thought I was a rebel’s rebel because they made me one of the Rabble.

So I’m a vampire now. No sparkles, lots of fangs, sucking yum-yum blood, all of that. It’s not bad, I guess. My companions were a liiiiiiiittle much in the ranting and raving department but they were okay-ish. They tried to teach me some shit about the Clans and the way of the world and how I could really fight for change.

Mostly, they just fought themselves.

One by one, our coterie dropped off horror movie style. Most wanted to go to New York and take up with the main #Occupy movement. Some wanted to take up down South or go to California where some anarchist vampire shit was going down. We downsized from 7 to 0 in about two weeks. When the last two gathered up some cash (did I mention they spanged?) to take a bus to NYC, I graciously ducked out. I was booking an overnight flight back to my home in Orange County. “Something something Anarch Free States yeah bro!” and I was outta there.  I was not spending my unlife with these loud, angry whiners who accomplished nothing. They were cancer, I’m chemo.

So now I’m here and getting slightly bored. Hunting hobos since I don’t know the lay of the undead land isn’t really that fun. So it’s time to find some of “my kind” and see if they are slightly less… loud than their East Coast counter parts. I think I found some OC Fangers so… tonight should be interesting.

“I wish it was snowing Starbursts”

“Didn’t you take math?”
“No. I misread. I thought it said ‘meth’ so…. My meth skills are great but I don’t know how to add.”

“I really want the award to be a pair of boobs. On fire. And I want the fire to spell out ‘first’. It’s representative of our audience.”

“Whatever. That’s my power word.”
“Mantra.”
“Whatever.”

“That’s more emo than goth. Emo works too, you just have to wear more neon but in a sad way.”

“If you had sex with Siamese twins with 2 heads, 2 brains, 2 personalities but 1 body, does it count as sleeping with 1 person or 2? If the Siamese Twins have 1 vajayjay but 2 heads, does it still count as a threesome? Do both orgasm? Does it count as a multiple orgasm? SOMEONE BRING ME SIAMESE TWINS! OR TWO GIRLS, A NEEDLE, AND SOME FLOSS! EITHER WAY, WE WILL HAVE ANSWERS!”

“Can we just skip early 90s shitty grunge retro and go straight to nu metal? These huge jeans aren’t gonna wear themselves…”

“Having the Machinima password is like having the password to God’s YouTube channel.”
“God wouldn’t say ‘fuck’ in his vids as much as we do”

“All books should come bound in black leather.”
“All women should come bound in black leather.”

“I don’t think so.”
“Well, I don’t pay you to think. Which is why you’re so good at your job.”

“None of those are even words!”
“YOU’RE A WORD!”
“YOUR MOM’S A WORD! Word to ya motha.”

“Want to get dinner tonight?”
“I can’t. I botched my ‘able to leave work on time’ roll.”
“Seriously. Stop playing Vampire D&D in real life.”

“Put it this way… if we were a Sabbat Pack, my vinculum for that entire email chain would be -14.”
“Your nerdiness is exceptional today.”

“The Sabbat are like ‘Ring ring. Ring ring. Sab-BatPhone.’”

“Does anyone have a flash drive I can use?”
“WE’RE BEING VAMPIRES RIGHT NOW!”
“……………Dost any of thou have a flash drive I can useth?”

“This actress gets to roll around in a sex cave with Kit Harington? Nothing in life is fair. She is the 1%. Occupy Rose Lesile.”

“I thought you were gay but I guess you’re just a vampire.”

Evening folks. MaxXx here. I don’t think I’ve ever done a “personal” blog post before. Usually, I talk about the POISON-FREE lifestyle that we all believe in. But… this one time… I want to dive a little deeper into my own poisoned well. Maybe this will kick off some more self-reflection. Maybe this will be as boring and masturbatory as when other bloggers do it. I dunno. But let’s try it.

No one likes to feel young. Feeling childish or uninformed or ill-prepared… no one seeks that out. We look to our parents, our teachers, our icons for guidance. Some look to television, some to books, some to blogs… so where do you turn when the knowledge you need is not available or given? When your ‘parent’ gives you no tools with which to tackle the night’s challenges? When that parent gives you an addiction that burns in your blood? When the only friends you can trust know nothing more than you do?

You fucking stand up. You pull yourself together, find that core that informs your beliefs, and you do what you have to.

I was born with an addiction. And I have to face it every night. It makes me angry, sometimes. It makes me feel cheated that I was forced to have this clawing, itching THING inside me that tries to control my actions, to smash the things I believe in to sate it’s thirst. I believe in self-denial. I believe that our addictions do not, shall not, must not, cannot control us.

But I also admit it’s easier to deny a vice you’ve never sampled than face something that is waiting to consume you from within. I face it every night. Some nights are worse than others. Some nights are consumed by this poison. Imagine cocaine painted all the way up the walls. A house made of meth. Floors of heroin. Windows of liquor. Stairs of sex. A whole witch’s gingerbread house of vice. Now imagine going inside.

That was this night. The night that kicked off this self-reflection. I had to go into my own personal brand of crackhouse to protect those that mean the world to me. There was a small little worm that said ‘Don’t. Don’t, it’s too hard. Don’t tempt yourself with the cravings. Just hide.’

But that is not the way. Not my way, not your way, not any way to live. Because the fear of failure is almost as bad as failing. The fear of the poison is almost as bad as the poison itself. Standing up for what we believe in means just that – standing up. Not cowering, not hiding, not avoiding the hard things.

There was another voice. A voice that said ‘Give in. Give IN to the temptation.’ But I denied that demon too. It’s an old demon. It’s voice is familiar. I know to never listen. Even when it rages and screams so loud I can’t hear anything else. Deaf and blind, I shut it out.

But there was another voice in the night… a real voice, this time. Not one in my head. The voice of that poisoned parent, the one who passed his addiction on to me. He was a shitty parent and there is a pun there most people won’t get. He gave me toxicity instead of tools, addiction instead of advice. And then he disappeared. There is a part of me that is mad about that. But, really, I’m so full of anger about other things that I have little room for faux-daddy issues. At first, I wasted nights looking for him when I needed advice – when I realized I was a little girl in a big bad world who could do with some advice on how to get around. But he trained in the 36 Shaolin Chambers of Not Being Around When I Need Him so I got over it. ‘Fuck it,’ I said to myself. ‘It’s just a Big Bad World. I’ll take it on myself.’ And I am just starting to learn a little. To get my sea-legs, if you will. Maybe my big-bad-world legs.

I hear a rumor that he’s looking for me. That he has something to ‘prove’ to me. Little does he know, he already proved everything I needed him to. He proved that I have to count on myself. He proved that an addict is only defined by his addiction if he lets himself be. He proved that I have to draw on values from within and extend those to those around me that I choose to make my family. He proved that “family” is a term that I define.

But there is still a part of me that can be childish. That can, for a moment, wish I had a textbook with some answers. It would be nice to not have to glad-hand monsters, ball dance around landmines, and sail the seas of subterfuge all without tutelage. I had thought I was doing a great job dancing, glad-handing, sailing. But I have been rather forcibly reminded that I am still learning, still young. And some lessons kill.

I could retreat. I could hide. I could abandon the little nest I’ve carved out for myself and hide from the scary monsters that wait outside it. But I’m not the kind of girl who hides from the dark. When I was a little girl, I never waited for my parents to come turn on the light and save me for the monsters under my bed. I would screw up my courage and jump off the bed, darting underneath and yelling as loud as I could to scare the monsters away. I don’t need a faux-parent, newly returned and filled with addiction. I need that little courageous girl who scared away the monsters. I need myself.

No one likes feeling young. No one likes not knowing all the answers. No one likes realizing that behind all of those smiling faces are fangs. But this is what I have to work with. And you all have your own dramas and dilemmas. Your own faux-fathers, your own evil addictions. Sometimes, these problems paint your world. Sometimes, you go deaf and blind when the animal inside you screams and scratches. But the pain that evil animal leaves in it’s wake when it’s denied that lets you know you’re alive (or close to it). When it’s sated and glutted – it’s addictions fed – you’re numb to life.

That is the root of why I am straight-edge. I want to feel the clean, clear edges of the world – even if they are sharp enough to cut me. I don’t want anything dulled by addiction, even the pain. And if that means that I have to muddle through alone instead of wallowing and following in the footsteps of an addict, I’m okay with that. Thus resolved, I can face them both – the addiction and the person who gave it to me. To hide from what he has to say to me is as cowardly as hiding from that villa of vice I forced myself to go into.

And so I stand up – alone in my resolve, aside from the animal inside that gnaws away at it. This biting thing inside me – it does not control me. It is within me but it is not me. And this man who made me is not me. I read George Orwell. What the author creates, he does not control. He may be an addict but that does not mean I must be. The family he gave me holds little comfort either. It is comprised of wolves and worse. And I am but a child…

Romulus and Remus. Little Red Riding Hood. That is the child among the wolves I seek to be.

So I’m putting on my red cloak. Fuck yeah, I’m a child. Fuck yeah, I don’t know my ass from an ant hill some times. But I got me some big sharp knives and a picnic basket with ‘fuck you’ on the side. I’m going to bring this lunch to grandma and if she is big and furry when I get there, I will just have to deal with it. This big, dark forest filled with monsters? Fuck it. I can’t stay home and hide. I gotta go over the hill and through the woods. Even if no one told me the way, I have to at least keep walking. The one sure way to not get anywhere is to not move.

I’m moving.

And I’m ready to see what I walk into.

“Your cat called and she told me she changed her name. She wants to be referred to as ‘The Artist Formerly Known as Meow.’ Soooooooooo…. get it right.”

ANAL BLEEDING and SORRY JESUS trending? When did a bunch of Catholic priests get twitter accounts?

Et tu, Hot Pockets?

It seems that the biggest confusion about #NewFacebook is most people have mistaken the News Feed for the Facebook complaints department

Here’s to our country finally turning “don’t ask, don’t tell” into “don’t care”.

Bring only violence. Leave only silence.

“Do you have anybody dressed as a cop?”
“We have a sailor and an Indian but…”

“Everything was fine until someone said ‘all we have to do is kill a 10 year old.’”
“Oh don’t worry. We’re going way younger than that.”

“Are we going to kill each other BEFORE we kill the vampire?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

I like it when people fix my spelling in a retweet… it’s like peer review

“There were so many vampires on that plane.”

“You’re less like a fuck buddy and more like an endurance trainer.”

“I’m a professional Lady Gaga impersonator.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not a man!”

Twitter suggested I unfollow my dreams.

I wish I lived in a haunted house. I’d never be lonely.

Do you think Borgin and Burke’s is hiring?

“I couldn’t give a fuck about it even if I was hooked up to a fuck-giving machine.”

“When is mercury out of retrograde?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Oh. So it’s just actually broken.”

“I wish I could fire rockets from my eyes. Or lasers. Or bears. Or laser rocket bears.”

“I once put chocolate chips into a Hot Pocket so I can tell you a thing or two about dying alone.”

“Dear couple holding hands in the narrow aisles at Target: we get it. You’re in love. Now go single file or I’ll run you down from behind.”

Clerk at my local game store: “I can tell you play White Wolf. Not because of the d10s. Because of the eyeliner.”

Kanye security has a counter for Wristband Pro. He was armed. I raged quit.

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Better Than Ezra #rockandrollproductintegration

If it’s a Belieber World, I’m glad the world is ending next year.

“The hurricane is going to be great! Your apartment isn’t flooded—it’s half full!”

“Wait. KMFDM is a drug against war? We should probably alert the government. That could get us out of Afghanistan really fast!”

Random lady: “What’s your tattoo of?”
Me: “Milton’s Paradise Lost.”
RL: *disappointed* “Oh. I thought it was something historic.”

I hate A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K , L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, and T #ButIStillLoveU #IAmAmbivalentAboutVWXYandZ

“We are spearheading…”
“No you’re not…”
“Spearshafting.”
“Please keep your shafts out of this meeting.”
“It’s very Forward Planning.”

Whenever an #Earthquake happens, Twitter transforms into the Weather Channel.

“If hating hippies was a paying job, I’d have a pretty reliable part-time income…”

“You have to have good orgasms to have more good orgasms? That’s like Facebook’s EdgeRanking!”
“…..I hate you so much.”

Laundry Day is the worst day of the week.

“She wrote me an email…”
“No she didn’t! She’s a cat!”
“…..with her paws.”

“Can you imagine how horrible the world would be if spiders could fly?”

“It’s everything shitty about a porno and nothing good about a porno.”

“No, I can’t do that right now. Someone on the Internet is wrong.”

Wait, WHAT? Fucking Tarantulas are native to California?!?!?! What the shit is this, Los Angeles! This was not in the brochure!!!!

Twitter is like text messaging with a million people you’d never give your phone number to. FB is like “emails with enemies”.

I put the ‘spooky’ in ‘spooky’.

“If the shoe fits, fuck it.”

“They are custom fangs. They won’t fit you. Sorry.”

“I have fake fangs in my wallet right now.”

“I’m glad I found a job that allows me to make money off the fact that I talk too much about nothing at all.”

“I should offer to rub my chin on people’s balls for money.”

“We’re watching #SharkWeek. You can think of it as a bunch of show about humans fighting sharks and losing.”

Date night tonight. You’re asking yourself if the date involves vampires but, really, this question should answer itself.

“Hey, check out my Portal.” #nerdypickuplines

How come no one has made a zombie dinosaur game?????? Undead velociraptors, people! It sells itself!

“The solution to the problem was the problem? E, I’m worried that our government might be ineffective.” – Lester, on the debt crisis

“I love Harry Potter. I really do. But seriously, he could have ended everything about 3 books early if he just bought a fucking gun.”

“Have to stop masturbating at 11:59 though cuz I don’t work on the Sabbath.”

“Where can I vote to lower the salary and deflate the benefits of all the douchebags in Washington DC?”

Looking forward to watching Discovery Channel’s week-long series on the merits of American capitalism. #sharkweek

#dearyoungself if you think those JUNCO jeans with the 72 inch bottoms are stupid now, just WAIT and see what you’ll be wearing in 2004!

“I wish I could put some of the stuff I do in my dreams on my resume.”

“Eric said he found a spell that will change your name to ‘RavenKrow Neversmiles’.”
“That already is my name.”
“Then… the spell worked?”

“you know that scene in the romantic comedy where the lead female love interest has an absurdly “bad day”? that’s me all the time. forever”

“It was the Jurassic Park of griefers, except velociraptors were more welcoming because their little hands can’t type ‘FAG’ on a keyboard.”

“Someone please explain WTF Silent Library is and why it isn’t Silent Hill?”

I want to run a Harry Potter-themed brothel called “The Whorecrux”.

“Watching the Borgias makes me want to run around with a cape and a sword, murdering people. Of course, so does Spongebob Squarepants.”

“Google+ is like the random high school party you show up to and no one you know is there.”

“CNN is doing breaking news updates every 10 minutes about an imaginary traffic jam in LA.”

Business speak 101: “I’m not clear” really means a) “I’m totally fucking confused” or b) “you’re an idiot and what you’re asking is stupid.”

“I watched Insidious. It wasn’t insidious. It was insipid, irritating, idiotic, illogical, incomprehensible, inconsistent, and infantile.”

Aggravated Mayhem = Best Crime Ever. They should also have Attempted Shenanigans and Creating a Brouhaha. http://bit.ly/r4Zi7F

“I can’t decide what is worse: Michelle Bachmann starting to pull ahead in the polls or Limp Bizkit coming out with a new album.”

Dr Strangelove or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bomb in My Pants #improvemovietitlesbyaddinginmypants

“Golf shirts belong on the golf course. Where I never have to look at them.”

“I’m trying to drag ‘n drop these files but I can’t find the dragon icon!” – my mother, the computer wizard

“Statistically somewhere in the world right now someone is pooping, someone is drinking, and Tom Cruise is fantasizing about sex with men.”

Using archive.org to look at sites loved in 1998 is like getting hit in the face with a bat made from animated blood gifs & shockwave games.

“If I had a dime for every time I’ve been hit by wings tonight, I’d have .30 cents. Just letting you know, I’m keeping track.”

“So, did we ever establish what happens in the middle of a gunfight?” “Call Gerard.”

working hard this morning recreating Lady Gaga’s meat dress out of little Lunchables baloney slices

“Your dad asked me why you liked Charles Manson. I told him he was thinking of Marilyn Manson. He said he thought that was his daughter.”

“I would try to shoot her but the evil bitch would probably just raise her arms and transform into a column of rats and then scurry away.”

“My hands hurt inexplicably, as though I actually punched everyone I had thought about punching this month.”

“Dinner: it’s what’s for dinner.”

“Is it better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven? What if you were a PA in Heaven?”

“I want to go to the gun range today but I’m feeling lazy. Think I’ll just shoot at my tv instead.”

Impossible? I’m possible

“Do you think it’s a trap?”
“Seeing as I’m planning on shooting everyone in the bar, I’ll feel bad if it’s not.”

“Ho ho ho! What’s your name, little girl?”
“Tessi!”
“Santa got you a bottle of Scotch.”
“But it’s empty…”
“FUCK YOU!”

If you watch NASA backwards, it’s about a space agency that has no spaceflight capability, then does low-orbit flights, then lands on moon.

oh ok. a 3.5 earthquake hit the compton area… it musta got scared and went back home after he realized where he was.

Migraine finally gone. The cure? Complaining for 5 straight hours.

“Hufflegriff! Slitherclaw! Emopuff! Angrydor!”
“I am going to slap you SO hard tomorrow…”

First things first: if you’ve never heard of Vampire: the Masquerade or World of Darkness, do yourself a favor and stop reading my drivel right now. Go here and buy the V:tM corebook. It’s a PDF and it will download immediately. Even if you never intend to play it, buy it and read it. Its immaculately put together, its exceedingly well written, its filled with amazing art, and it will change your life. How do I know? Because it changed mine.

That sounds superlative but it is very true. For every person who has ever looked up to me and thought ‘I wonder where she learned it all?’, there is an answer; my parents and White Wolf games. And since you can’t digitally download my parents, you’re going to have to go with the games. These books were so foundational for me that I have almost forgotten the impact that they made on me. I am proudly a V:tM lifer. I picked up the first book in my local hobby store just based on the cover and the art work. I brought it home and read it cover to cover. I didn’t actually start playing it until second edition rolled around and from there…. forget it, I was hooked. I used to carry the core book in my backpack at all times. I read it so much, I went through 2 copies by the end of high school.

Vampire (and all the other World of Darkness books) are immaculately written and constructed. They don’t pull pull punches. They use big words without apologies, reference historical record without pausing to explain, and include quotes from music and literature from across the world. I used to use my 2nd edition corebook as a guide to pick out tapes (yes, it was that long ago) when I would go to my local Strawberries (it was a record store, for those of you who never had one. And no, it didn’t smell like strawberries). For a kid like me who was aggressively smart, relentlessly curious, and fucking dark in my outlook, it was the magic combination. It’s set in our own world and didn’t seem like such a stretch to dream about 13 clans of vampires prowling in the dark, relentlessly manipulating human culture to suit their own insidious plots.

The best example, for me, is the story of Clan Brujah. When I first read the books, they were characterized as the hot-headed rebels (with or without a cause). Being a tweenager just discovering angst, this was just my speed and I really took to the clan. When I read the clanbook and discovered the Brujah started out as warrior-poets, intellectuals who rebelled against stasis and injustice… well, that was up my alley too as an intellectual rebel myself. When I read that their Clan founder founded Carthage… well, the real history is that Queen Elissa founded Carthage. She is my namesake and my great-great-great-great some-odd grand aunt. I have artifacts from the excavation of the Carthaginian Bay sitting on my mantle. I am – in real life – a descendant of Carthage and very proud of that. It seemed like the stars had aligned and I had found something… perfectly fitted to me. I even got the clan symbol tattoed on me.

There is something so compelling about Vampire: the Masquerade. The more of the books you read, the more you discover this overarching metaplot that spans mortal history. Its deep, detailed, and subtle. It prompted me to go read about the real history that the books were warping. White Wolf books inspired me to study the Borgias, the Avignon Papacy, and shadow propagation speed. They contributed more to my desire to learn than all 16 years of my “best education money can buy” schooling. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the Louisiana Purchase until I read about Napoleon being a Sabbat pawn! Then I wanted to know everything about that whole period of history.

I wasn’t crazy. I knew that the World of Darkness history was an alternative history. I didn’t think vampires or Mages were really behind the events of the War of the Roses, or whatever. (Although that would be totally awesome!) But because the books referenced these historical events so casually, without pausing to explain the history they were basing their events on, it made me want to learn the real history so I could understand the ramifications of the plotlines. My obsession with Vampire and the other franchises quite literally made me a smarter, more well educated person.

But it wasn’t just that. It also made me a better person, a stronger person. Sure, you can make a correlation about playing a game where you are trying to outwit other players translating into why I’m so cunning. You can make a correlation between playing a self-reliant, strong vampire in my foundational years translating into me growing up to be a strong, self-reliant woman. And all these things are true. But how did a game about a blood-thirsty, ruthless, stab-you-in-the-back-with-a-stake-and-drink-your-blood bunch of vampires help make me into a kinder, more generous person?

Because it did.

And I didn’t realize this until going to the Grand Masquerade but it did that to the entire community who played these games. I’ve been to what can only be described as a “metric fuckton” of conventions. DragonCon, GenCon, E3, PAX, SDCC… you name it, I’ve been there. Nerds, Geeks, and Dorks are pretty universally nice people so understand how much nicer the World of Darkness community has to be to merit this being so notable. The people that we met at the Grand Masquerade were several orders of magnitude nicer than the people I’ve met at other conventions. And not just a few people – not just the White Wolf and CCP staff. Every. Single. Person. There was not a soul that I met at the Grand Masquerade who was anything less than welcoming and kind in the way that made me think of Mrs Weasley from Harry Potter. Sure, I was there as media and people wanted to impress, right? Wrong. They were all this nice to each other. I think the bulk of the convention took place in the lobby, where people stood around and shot the shit with each other all day and all night.

Most people had no idea who I was and would just strike up conversations with me, excited to talk about shared interests. When they found out Joel and Ian had been playing for 2 days, they didn’t shun them. Instead, they all fell over themselves telling them cool things to check out, giving them information they could use, asking them if they needed any help, wanting to make sure they were having a good time. I met so many people, I quickly lost track of all of the names. But, without fail, they would always stop when they saw me to ask how I was, how my latest game was, to tell me tales. And, upon leaving our conversation, they would stop five people behind me to greet some new friend with the same unfailing joy. People that I met in the elevator for 5 minutes became as life long friends, stopping by games just to get a quick hug. All around me, people dressed in incredible costumes were sitting down to chat as if they really were cohorts for the past three centuries. Even the man who sat next to me on the plane ride to and from LA, who happened to be going to the Masquerade, was unfailingly polite, soft-spoken, and a proper gentleman.

I have to note how completely weird it is for me to strike up conversations with people I don’t know. As much as I am Miss Social, I don’t usually just start talking to people I don’t know. It makes me very uncomfortable. I’m outgoing yet shy. When I do talk to people, the conversations are superficial; the weather, my shoes, the Red Sox. Falling so naturally into meaningful conversations with every person I met never happens to me. Never. Not at goth clubs, not at rock shows, not at poetry slams, not at fucking knitting circles. Even sitting in my own living room, it takes a while for me to warm to a person enough to just… talk.

Maybe it was the New Orleans heat but I warmed up fast. Usually, when I’m out and about with a lot of people, I will say something polite about a stranger’s outfit just to get into and out of the expected conversation quickly and painlessly. It’s a good social gambit; it eases an introduction and the conversation is usually short, light, and complimentary. It’s almost a habit. Say something nice, chat for three minutes, and leave. Everyone feels good, hurrah. But, at the Masquerade, my polite overtures all instantly turned into long, deep conversations. I don’t think I managed a conversation under 20 minutes with any person there. A simple “hi, how are you doing?” to a group of slightly-intoxicated LARPers ended up with me sharing a chair with one of them, laughing loudly as they tried to teach us how to LARP (and debated with Joel about 4th edition D&D) For the rest of the con, every time we saw them, they would always wave hello or come running over for a hug and a chat.

And I have to say, too, how much I hate being hit on. I hate it. I hate it! Some dude going up to me and telling me how “hot” and “fuckable” I look. Yeah, no. Please die. I’ve gotten prickly to the point where I can barely take a compliment on my appearance from anyone without getting offended. Luckily, I live in Los Angeles, where such things don’t happen to girls that aren’t 5’9″ and 100 lbs.

Yet again, the folks at the Grand Masquerade showed chivalry and civility. They didn’t “hit on” me. They paid me gracious compliments, stopping to comment about my poise and elegance instead of noting ‘you got some tasty tits’ like your average bar brute. They showered me with compliments in a way I’m not used to… and they were so humble and sweet about it that I fairly glowed. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been told by strangers that I look “stunning” and not gotten pissed off about it. Instead, it made me happy, made me feel good about myself, made me calm and comfortable instead of instantly threatened. I don’t think anyone realizes what an accomplishment that is. For me to be genuinely flattered and pleased by a compliment from a near-stranger is nigh-unto unheard of! Yet it happened, night after night. It even got me to act (sort of) like a lady; letting people take me by the hand, open doors for me, push my chair in. It made me realize how much of my energy can be “keep away” and when I was comfortable and reigned that in, people were right there to be as gracious and kind to me as I could hope for. I let my guard down and, for the first time, I was rewarded with the best in people instead of the worst.

The unfailing kindness of the community was certainly reflected in the CCP/White Wolf staff and their volunteers working the event. The security staff was unfailingly polite and made sure everyone was safe without feeling at all imposing – in fact, they were like big teddybears filled with positive energy. No one would even want to cause trouble with them around! The exuded such calm and serenity that it was almost like meditating. The storytellers bent over backwards to accommodate us, to make sure that Joel and Ian understood what was going on and were having a good time… all without calling attention to it or sacrificing the fun for the other players. I want to say a special thank you to Dave M and Jason C, who went out of their way to make sure we could play in whatever games our (er…. mostly my) little hearts desired. Every storyteller we had was amazing, the games incredible, the players sublime. My first experience LARPing I had expected to be terrifying and overwhleming – and it was. But as soon as I crossed my fingers and said “Out of Character, I have never LARPed before and I’m a little lost,” everyone stopped to help me out. No judgements, no looking-down-the-nose… just happy to share what they loved with someone new.

I need to back up for a second and talk about Shane and the CCP/WhiteWolf staff. I met Shane a few months ago, when we interviewed him for MachinimaRealm. (Well… Joel interviewed him. I just sat there because I am afraid of the cameras.) Afterwards, we had lunch and talked about Vampire. It helped me remember how much it had meant to me. Not playing since college, not being around people who played, had made me forget what an impact it had on me. Shane helped wake that up, get me excited, helped me recover a part of me I’d lost. He’s like a Vampire Santa, showing up with jackets and ball tickets and (best of all!) great conversation. He and his girlfriend Elizabeth are charming, intelligent, and considerate – the type of people that you look at and think “wow, I’m lucky to know people like this.” They are people who just ‘get’ you.

I say all of this to put my next statement in context.

The CCP/White Wolf staff as so nice they could almost make Shane look mean. Okay, not really but you get my point. I thought Shane (and also Elizabeth) were anomalies – those rare people you run into in life who are smart, kind, and all of these words that I’m going to have to start going to a thesaurus in a minute to not overuse. But they are representative of the entire White Wolf staff. They are all those rare people who are that nice and that smart and that kind. It’s unreal!

I really have to thank each and every one of the CCP/White Wolf staff too. Shane, Greg, Mike R, Stacey, Eddy, Russell, Mike T, the other Mike T, Rich… I know I’m going to forget someone if I keep listing names so I’ll just say the whole staff. They went above and beyond to make sure that not only we but every person at the Masquerade was having the time of their (un)lives. They spoke so highly of their community and they really worked to provide a great experience for that community. I have never met a staff that was that enthused and in love with their community. It was, literally, all they could talk about – and they glowed like newlyweds when they did! They took such fierce pride in what the community was doing, in what it stands for, in what it means to each other. Honestly, you are all some of the most incredible, charitable, giving, and honest people I’ve ever met… even the Lasombras.

And it was an experience. Every place we went was like stepping into the World of Darkness. The set dressings, the costumes, the city – it felt like I really was in the books I’d read for so long. If you wanted total suspension of disbelief, it was there for you. Or, if you needed a break, you could just… breathe and not be in it. You were never forced to be in the moment. Even in the deepest LARPs, no one pushed you to go past your comfort zone. Some people might think that “oh these crazy people think they are vampires all the time.” Nope. Not at all. Everyone was very aware that this was a game and just wanted to have a good time.

I don’t really know where I am going with this. I don’t think it’s possible to get across in words how much this game meant to me or how much discovering how incredible the community is means to me. It’s woken up the part of me that connected with these games; the smart, curious, considerate, and generous part of me. The best part of me. I’m excited to get more involved in this community; to try LARPing, to play in the office and introduce my coworkers to the World of Darkness, to play in Better Off Dying. The people that I played World of Darkness games with growing up are some of the best people I’ve met. If the Grand Masquerade is indicative of the overall community, the people that I will play with in the future will become some of the best people I will ever meet.

So thank you; to the staff, the storytellers, the fans, and the friends. I can feel this indescribable something traveling through me once again. Maybe its passion or excitement or curiosity. Maybe it’s coming out of Torpor. I don’t know what it is but thank you for it. I’m excited to be coming back to all of you, to get to know all of you, to share blood not in a literal sense but in a metaphorical sense as we become family. To people who have never played, I’ll say it again. Pick it up. There is no game, no book, no experience like it.

Oh, and one last thing. Play a Brujah. Seriously. We’re the best clan.

“Something about Marlon Brando.”
“He’s old. And fat.” – Me
“Isn’t he dead?”
“And dead.”
“Well. Now no one can see California.”
“………….?”
“What? ‘Can’t see California without Marlon Brando’s eyes.’”
“…………..I hate you.”
“It’s all in your head.”

“More like ‘Nineteen Eighty Four-Loko’!”

Sometimes, I get really angry that there will never be a zombie apocalypse.

I spend at least three hours of every day imagining how much better everyone would look if they were covered in fake blood.

“We’re gonna go from awake to sharks in 30 minutes.”

It’s barely Mother’s Day and MILFs is trending. You stay classy, Internet.

I kinda want to change my gamertag to “NeedsMoreKanye”.

“So they finally killed Bin Laden…” “Amazing what the Americans can do when the Playstation Network is down.”

“I wish she spoke English. And took me seriously.” – #LesterAboutTheCat

When life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade. Make life take back the lemons back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn lemons! What the hell are these?! Demand to see life’s manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give you lemons! Do you know who I am? I’m the man who’s gonna burn your house down! WITH THE LEMONS! I’m gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that BURNS YOUR HOUSE DOWN!”

Store advertising a 70% off sale has a bike originally $216 now $196. Umm maybe your shitty math skills are why you’re going out of business

Forget running for President. I’m running for Evil Overlord! And when I say “running” I mean “marching in front of my Unstoppable Doom Legion”.

I resolved to clean my house today. So far, I have sat on the couch and Googled “maid service los angeles”. Progress!

Just spent 2 hours trying to explain “drag and drop” to my mother at dinner. This is worse than explaining emails don’t need stamps.

Suitcase is currently 1/2 bright colored scene clothes & 1/2 black lace goth-as-fuck gear. Gonna have to decide if I plan to mope or murder.

My options right now: commit murder or do laundry. Hmm…..

Booked a car service to take me to LAX and another one to get me in Paris. The nice thing about getting older is a +10 to my ballin skillz 

‎”What’s your name?” “Vincent Van Gogh-fuck-yourself.”

Went to buy some warm clothing for Paris. Bought 7 pairs of capri-length leggings. I wish I was kidding.

“Where’s Frankie?” “Oh. Frankie? He’s on the ceiling. We can’t get him down.”