I received my provisional driving license in the post today. This means that I shall no longer have to carry my precious, precious passport on my person when desiring to be served cigarettes or alcohol, or get into a Venue, or to vote in elections I haven't yet registered for. Fuck you, Votes for Women. Fuck you.


Pankhurst hatred based digression aside, I received my laminated piece of magic, and immediately lamented the potentially ruined careers of many a counterfeiter. This thing is one massive hologram. It's very advanced for an example of government production. It's embossed. I felt like Christian Bale in American Psycho. Whenever I see someone's driving license my immediate reaction is that it must be fake, because my mental age is still about 14. Having The Real Thing just isn't as fun. And also, The Real Thing looks pretty difficult to fake now. So my heart goes out to everyone who has to stop encouraging fraud. Hopefully I will never have to.


I only used my fake one once, at Koko when I was about 15. It didn't work. It's in my room somewhere. I may use it in order to get turned away from somewhere. For nostalgia's sake. Also to be socially awkward. It might be funny.

...

I bulletin on a regular basis. My my my my my my myspace page has become less of a social experiment and more of a soapbox. For poor puns and sarcastic quizzes. And now with everyone more or less racing away from spaces to faces, I don't want my outlet to change. I like writing. I like writing on the internet, and thinking that people might read it. I love the sound of my own typing. So here I am.

Despite my position as an artist (read: art student; big fish little pond; ideas above her station), I believe that words can be stronger than pictures. Your own words in the place of something generically indie and black and white. Couple... kissing... haute... couture... Chanel... vodka... cigarettes... France... birds... tattoos... 1940s... it's so me!
It is painfully easy to take a good black and white picture. You've only got two complementary colours to fuck with. It's even easier to set up a Photobucket account. And really, who needs html when you got words?