Theater geek. Collector of strange music. Cursed with two left feet and a vendetta against rhythm. I was born in ink and bound in vellum. You'll find me in NYC, probably dripping in black leather and red lipstick, a cup of coffee in hand.
[catwalks slowly across street as 90 cars pile up behind each other trying to turn; throws modelesque glance backwards over designer shades] [car inches into crosswalk] HOW DARE YOU COME WITHIN FIVE FEET OF ME!? I HAVE THE FUCKING RIGHT OF WAY??? SEE YOU IN COURT YOU CAPITALIST, PLANET-DESTROYING SCUM
She stared up at him, her eyes luminous and catlike, challenging him to deny it outright. There were many things he ought to have said, but in the end he kept his tongue and both walked away dissatisfied.