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About Deviant Artist Veronica EllisFemale/Australia Recent Activity
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Literature
DFC 2011 - 5, Lai Nouveau
The night's masquerade,
The music still played
Through this –
The bone-chilling gaze,
The eyes that displayed
No bliss –
The flash like the blade,
The lights worn and frayed
The curtain's brocade,
The way they cascade
And kiss –
In night's breezy shade
The deadly nightshade
On lips –
The music still played
The night's masquerade
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Literature
DFC 2011 - 4, Glosa
Life, it seems, will fade away
Drifting farther every day
Getting lost within myself
Nothing matters, no-one else
Life, it seems, will fade away,
Nothing you can do or say
Will help me feel what can't be true;
You can't stop what I have to do.
Drifting farther every day,
Colours blur and fade to grey.
What is left? An empty shell;
What awaits me? Time will tell.
Getting lost within myself,
Dust still sits on every shelf,
Lie in bed through all my days,
Staring forward, an empty gaze.
Nothing matters, no-one else,
In my mind I hear the bells,
Tolling, tolling as I sleep,
And into darkness further creep.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 0 0
Literature
DFC 2011 - 3, Rispetto
And so begins my great downfall;
These walls of chaos circle me,
Surrounding, closing in my soul,
And you will never set me free.
There's no way out; I'm dead to you,
Tomorrow you'll forget me, too.
So leave me here, but don't forget,
Deliverance is coming yet.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 0 0
Literature
DFC 2011 - 2, Kyrielle
O mother god, we hold the blade,
We serve you through this dim crusade.
We are your sons and daughters true;
Have mercy, lord; we live for you.
We toast the night's magnificence
And give our lives in her defence.
We are your children, through and through:
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
In midnight skies we rise again,
Your servants black, your hordes of Cain.
We search for life in red and blue;
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
We keep the Bible in our hearts
O father war, we never part.
Our way of life is born anew;
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
The human wine is on our lips;
The incense at our fingertips.
Our suffering is yet undue;
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
Some call us ghouls; they may be right,
For we all breathe and stalk the night.
We seek the blood their veins still brew;
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
We pray to you, our father dear,
We keep your words and blessings near.
We know what you would have us do;
Have mercy, lord, for we serve you.
We are
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:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 0 0
Literature
DFC 2011 - 1, alliterisen
Rusty writings, tapping tales,
Typing, trying to recover, write
Something simple – 'tis true;
Harried head, my fingers fleeting,
I invest my mind
To tricky lines. Write, rewrite;
Hope for help to find my form.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 2 0
Literature
DFC 09 - One, Two, Three, Four
We're counting down the time to go
Before the day on which we stand
For hours long to watch the show,
To scream, to shove, to watch the band.
We stand before the soundchecked stage;
We're counting down the time to go
Before the music can engage
And reap the energy that's sown.
The time arrives at last - and so,
Amid the screams, insanity,
We're counting down the time to go
To end enforced brutality.
At last it's over - satisfied
For now we leave, but always know
The next one looms. There's days to bide;
We're counting down the time to go.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 1 1
Literature
DFC 09 - Light and Shadow
We are missing halves
Balancing the darker sides
Of the other's soul
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:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 1 0
Literature
DFC 09 - Beneath the Skin
A landscape perfect lies beneath your skin,
A beauty you could never think to see
In just yourself - you can't believe it's true,
The fairest beauty comes from deep within.
The teeth that show when two lips part to grin,
The tan lines on your arms, your pefect hair -
Yet you refuse to see that I believe
A landscape perfect lies beneath your skin.
And while you're awkward, lanky, tall and thin,
I care not, for I long to trace the veins
That twist and roadmap, line your ribs with lips -
The fairest beauty comes from deep within.
A landscape perfect lies beneath your skin,
And in your heart. I wish that you could see
The fairest beauty comes from deep within.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 0 0
Literature
DFC 09 - Full Moon
Within his corner, all alone,
   His soul eats from within.
The window shines the light of home;
   It itches in his skin.
He sees the light of gleaming night,
A fearful, bold, enpowering sight.
   He sees the light,
   He sees the light,
And knows the time has come to fight.
The moon, she shines, a perfect ball,
   A softly shimmering sphere.
He shuts his ears against the call,
   Pretends he cannot hear.
He feels the rage in him engage;
His body's now his only cage.
   He feels the rage,
   He feels the rage -
It eats him blank, an empty page.
He loves and fears and loathes these nights
   For reasons never known -
He knows not of his cause to fright;
   He's always on his own.
He never sees the grim release,
The grisly transformation ease.
   He never sees,
   He never sees,
For he is lost by inky trees.
:iconXburiedinblackX:XburiedinblackX
:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 6 2
Literature
DFC 09 - Love Autopsy
The knife blade glimmers in fluorescent light,
A silver slice of steel so silent cold,
And hisses through the air of autumn night
Before the night's begun to turn to gold
And severs life - without a chance to fight,
Two lovers lie, and never to grow old.
She was his love, had been from days of old,
His own, his candle in the swallowed light -
With roses, diamonds, cherished rings of gold,
He made her his. He held her through the night,
He gave her warmth when summer turned to cold -
Yet all can change with just one fatal fight.
It was a silly thing - some petty fight
That's troubled lovers since the times of old,
But still enough to make him see the light.
He couldn't stand to lose her heart of gold,
But oh - misfortune strikes in fated nights!
His love, another man... his heart grew cold.
He never meant to be so ruthless, cold
And unforgiving - he put up a fight
Against his mind, the nagging thoughts of old.
But jealousy had crept to snuff the light.
He acted not for wealth, for gain,
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Literature
DFC 09 - Thunder Rolled
Young girl on the porch
Sees the gum trees bend,
Crows wheeling away,
Charcoal clouds, ink sky.
Raindrops drum the roof
As the thunder rolls.
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:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 1 2
Literature
DFC 09 - Mystery
Hidden far
In plainest sight,
Enigmatic
In the light.
Many search
And never find,
Many do
Who never mind.
You can find it
On a whim,
Externally or
From within.
You will find it
If you're true,
Or, just maybe,
It finds you.
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Literature
DFC 09 - And Nero Fiddled
You built this empire, moulded it to form
And gained perfection, momentarily -
You raised your minions; loyalty was sworn
To you, the ruler, for eternity.
Yet not all ages pass so perfectly -
One cracked foundation's all the work can take,
Before your efforts pass where none can see
And all is gone, for pointless terror's sake,
For just one flaw's required for a world to break.
You birthed a tyrant from your very soul
And terror reigned supreme throughout your land -
Your people quivered fearfully, consoled
Not by your promises to fight, to stand,
To win them back - you could not understand
That this was all your doing. Yet you stayed,
And so perfection crumbled at your hands,
You fiddled, so content that through the days
Your work would die, and others, yet you'd live and play.
I was your empire, you my ruler strong;
You shaped me, moulded me to your ideal,
But cracked stone's never meant to last for long
And now your perfect world's no longer real.
And now comes pain I never hoped to
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:iconxburiedinblackx:XburiedinblackX 1 2
Literature
DFC 09 - Emote
Your voice
Trembles, quivers
As you whisper to me
Confessions of past events, of
Your pain.
Your arms
Covered, hiding
Such painful memories
Of times now gone but not so long
Ago.
Despair,
Anger, sorrow,
Destruction, self-loathing,
Disappointment, anguish, such fear
And pain.
Your eyes
Fall to the ground,
Or to the skin that peeks
From your long sleeves - quickly hide, for
You fear.
But now
Fear not their thoughts
Because you have someone
Who will love you, press their lips to
Your scars.
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Literature
DFC 09 - Demented
Always held in bondage,
Calling for help - or death,
Even - anything to be free.
Grieving lost thoughts, hurried
Into grey matter, fearing jealous
Keepers may attempt to lobotomize -
My thoughts! My nerves!
Often they take, probe,
Quest for knowledge, ravenous
Soldiers bent on destruction, tantalizing
Usurpers of sanity, vanity -
Welcome to my extermination;
You'll see nothing but a zombie.
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Literature
DFC 09 - Insatiable
When moonlight crawls along the street
Chasing away the summer heat
Footsteps outside somewhere below
The world revolves, I let it go

My world is one of silver nights,
Of heart tattoos in pounding beats
That sound in deadly shrieks of fright
When moonlight crawls along the street.
The darkness is the realm I walk,
I am the fate that you must meet.
The road is chilled by where I stalk,
Chasing away the summer heat.
The hunger burns, a steady pain -
I haunt high corners, watch them go
Until I thirst and hear again
Footsteps outside, somewhere below.
I sieze one in my fatal kiss
And drink until it fails to flow;
In this unmatched, this primal bliss,
The world revolves - I let it go.
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This is fairly self-explanatory - my newest works. Take your time to browse through them. Enjoy.

Random Favourites

Damascus Fangs and Claws :iconrajala:Rajala 15 25
Journal
Photograms: When Collage meets Chemistry
A photograph made without a camera?  The idea seems almost impossible to most of us (unless you've had the chance to play around in a darkroom).  A photogram is by placing objects directly onto the surface of a light sensitive material (like photo paper) and then exposing it to light. The result is a negative image of the items. Areas of the paper that have received no light appear white; those exposed through transparent or semi-transparent objects appear gray.
One might remember the school day experiments of placing random leaves, keys, etc. as relatively simplistic.  However, amazing works of art have been created using this technique.  
Here we have a small example of images created that deserve recognition in this under appreciated photographic technique.
              
:iconperefalc:perefalc
:iconperefalc:perefalc 14 11
Literature
The Lady Of The Lake
In the flickering dusk of the cold forest’s keep
Midst the leaves and the brush where the river runs deep
A rivulet barren as all the world’s sands
Branches off and expands
In ribands and bands
To a lake wherein which a pale maid lies asleep.
Soft gold is the hair that so limpidly flows
Round in circles that dip and as quickly compose
Into icy-tight locks by the white, leaden tips
Of her fingers and lips
And her slim, girlish hips
Bound in sodden silk swaths of frost-coloured bows.
A garland of blooms—wilted snow in her grasp—
Tries in vain—inch by inch—to withdraw from her clasp
And struggles and strains till on frigid mouth plants
A slight kiss by mischance
And continues entranced
In so forward a fashion she surely ought gasp—
But nothing escapes from those lips—not a sound—
Not the cry of offense that she ought to expound
As only befits a fair maiden subdued
By a blossom imbued
With a lover’s bright food—
Though her lover she le
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:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 41 53
Gothica :iconbigbad-red:BigBad-Red 527 99
Literature
And The Clock Ticks On . . .
And the clock ticks on…
As a man like silk and ash sits contemplating the ornate linen of his table, tracing the patterns of an ivory napkin with his butter knife. Back and forth and round about, the swish of cloth and silver echoes between the chairs, frolicking with the oscillation of candlelight on knife and chair-back, while the man’s face glows in the dim like polished alabaster.
Across the empty expanse of the table sits a woman, bent rapt upon the inspection of her empty china. She has the look of a mannequin posed for photography, hands folded tidily upon her lap, lips more silent than dust in an empty attic.
They are utterly alone.
“Satine, love,” says the man, shattering the heavy silence into near-tangible fragments. “Should you fancy the opera tonight?”
There is no response from the woman, though a glimpse through the shroud of her parted gold hair shows a look of unwavering contempt.
“You cannot still be mad, love?” entreats the man
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:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 13 42
Literature
The Players' Epilogue
SUPERFLUOUS CHARACTER X: That was all very well, of course; exceedingly tragic, you know, positively heart-wrenching—
SUPERFLUOUS CHARACTER Y: I wouldn’t go that far.
X: —But what about us? I mean, what are we, pond scum or something?
Y: I do believe we’re the comic relief.
X: No farewell speech, no rending cry of pain at the end of life—nothing but a snicker from that brat of a protagonist in celebration of his infinite cleverness at having our poor heads whacked off instead of his own. He, of course, gets two pages of script on which to elaborate. And what do we get? Diddly. As usual.
Y: I would have been happy with a short monologue. You know, earlier on.
X: (Sighing.) But, alas, it could only have been a dialogue of sorts. For we are but Siamese twins in this grand play of life. Where one goes, the other must follow closely on. What one says, the other must echo in due fashion.
Y: Siamese twins? But we’re—
X: I was being metaphorical
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:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 94 146
Literature
By The Side Of The Stones
The stones saw it all in a circle of trees
How a young maiden met with her tall lover sweet
And the latter the former did ardently seize
And clasped to his breast on the green forest seat
The look in his eyes made her tender heart beat
And he vowed that he’d always be true to his dear
But she missed in his words the pale note of deceit
Like the edge of a veil so transparent ‘twas sheer
And with dark eyes fixed close on her gold hair so near
He withdrew from its sheath a scintillant knife
And kissing her neck with a touch that could sear
He promised her softly she’d soon be his wife
She smiled at him then and laughed bold as a fife
Disregarding the hand creeping close to her side
Till with one subtle movement he tore out her life
And she realized at last that her lover had lied
She murmured she loved him as even she died
(But her faltering lips made him mind more the cost)
And he hid her corpse deep in a tree hollow wide
And covered her limbs with a blanket of frost
He le
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:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 27 49
Literature
Christmas Dinner With Dmitri
“Now, now, Margaret. That’s hardly polite. You really ought to wait your turn. The gravy will come round soon enough.”
Margaret stares blankly back with all the enthusiasm her shiny button eyes can muster. Which is the normal amount.
“And you, Jeremy, stop that! You’ve almost knocked over the candle! Do you want to set us all on fire?”
The candle in question lets out a faint sputtering sound of remonstrance.
Dmitri sits placidly carving a lump of pinkish flesh on a large blue platter, his arms akimbo as he simultaneously attempts to watch his guests and slice the meat into tidy strips. He is a tall man and thin, with a look of pale Silly Putty, as though he could be stretched to any length one might desire, and then postured, jointless, in some awkward fashion upon his seat. His eyes are dark and twitchy, his hair straggly, supplanted spider legs on caterpillar brows, and his clothes have the weighted, fuliginous look of something that has been dragged thr
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 9 46
Literature
Angeles
They sent an angel, of course. They did every year, and the angels fluttered back with broken wings, pearlescent skin chipped like old porcelain. It was easy enough to repair the cracks that leaked blood like quicksilver, to mend the fingers bound in strips of cloth where sections had gone missing. But the angels were never quite the same again. Their eyes darker, warier, like pearls dipped in ink. Their golden hearts a pale dying amber within their translucent chests.
(Sometimes at night, you can pass a clump of the ones that have been sent down, clinging together, their sleep interspersed with screams, wordless sounds like the child-cry of a wounded panther. They toss and turn like maggots writhing in a fetid corpse, clawing at nothing.)
If all had gone as planned, the angels would return each year in full regalia to kneel at the Maker’s throne and offer a precise report of the progress of Man. It was not expected that Man should be perfect—heavens, no—but it would be
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 34 77
Literature
Morphine And Thorns
Morphine & Thorns:
An Edwardian Fairytale

November 20
He came again last night.
That strange creature with the eyes like melted opals, waifish, pale. With an outstretched hand, an impish grin like Peter Pan from the children’s bedtime stories.
She had been taking the chloral hydrate and morphine concoctions diligently—just what the doctor prescribed—for a week now. The first night it had seemed peculiar, unnatural; she was never one for medication of any sort, and it had frightened her when the doctor made such a strict point of precise dosage, somehow excluding to mention what exactly would happen if she failed to exercise caution. She had protested, indeed, when her husband dragged her there, exasperated by her nervous outbreaks, her incessant insomnia. But what else was to be done? She was driving herself mad with the constant fidgeting, staring at the ceiling as the night passed, thinking of nothing, not daring to think. And so she had agreed to
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 26 78
Literature
Song Of The Crossroads
Beware the crossroads, mortal fair,
For we are always watching there;
But who, indeed, thou ask, are we?
Hecate, not one, but three—
Thrice the fury and the spite,
Thrice the everlasting night
That fast shall cling like specks of coal,
Or like the sand upon a shoal,
Unto the edges of thy soul—
Thy bond to us complete.
Beware the crossroads, mortal fair,
For suicides are buried there,
And their ghastly voices sound
In the darkness all around—
Listen not! lest they entice
Thy fickle hand thy own throat slice,
And join in their fetid ranks
Beneath a cross of crooked planks—
Meander not into their flanks,
Pale mortal, we entreat.
Beware the crossroads, mortal fair,
For cold Lost-Hope is lurking there;
He will catch thee in thy sleep,
Betwixt the dawn and endless deep,
And turn thy thoughts to bleak despair,
Twist every dream beyond repair,
And though we love thee, in our way,
And wish thy fragile hope to stay,
We cannot help thee on that day—
We cannot Fate
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 24 37
Literature
The Poet's Dream
Last night I dreamt that life was sleeping,
And a man held in his keeping
All the souls of all the dying,
Cold and crying, lost and lying,
Harvest of the reaper’s reaping
And God’s vacant sighing.
With troubled mind I paused his pacing,
Asked him, though my heart was racing,
“Will I, sir, end here someday
With all these souls like pallid clay?
Tell me what it is I’m facing
And whether I will end this way?”
The man just laughed and turned aside,
But still the truth he could not hide;
Said, “When you wake upon the morrow,
One day hence will fall your sorrow,
For nothing pushes Death aside
That you can beg or borrow.”
I cried out then and cursed my fate,
“Can I not my own Death abate?
A poet I, and think while living
What fair gifts I have been giving
To this world of fear and hate
With poems that breed forgiving.”
“If that is so, my child,” he said,
“Death may not be your lot when dead,
For though you soon must pass away
Your na
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 56 64
Where is the Heart? :iconbigbad-red:BigBad-Red 201 43 Pisces Fae :iconambercrystalelf:AmberCrystalElf 142 0
Literature
Forever In A Day
‘It was forever in a day,
One moment in a lifetime,
Such times are overwhelming,
I won’t survive the night’

In the message that she threw away,
Her soul spoken in her tears,
The ink in places running,
Her heart is loudly pounding,
As her mind caves to her fears,
It was forever in a day.
The bells forever chimed,
That day was filled with rapture,
Such love she’d never found,
With peace and joy abound,
Her heart he’d had to capture,
One moment in a lifetime.
Yet lost in seas a-swelling,
Her man- she’d never find,
With burdened mind she waited,
As her teeth she slowly grated,
Her last words to all mankind,
Such times are overwhelming.
Her poor and tragic plight,
Death won’t take her soon,
She’ll live for many days,
Till she can’t take the pain,
And under mocking moon,
(says) I won’t survive the night.
:iconkiwi-damnation:kiwi-damnation
:iconkiwi-damnation:kiwi-damnation 26 22
When I see an artwork, or read a piece of literature, that speaks to me, reflects me, or just amazes me in the technical skill, I fave it. It's that simple.

Take your time to browse through these artworks - I'm sure you'll find something you like, as well.

Critiques


Well, Red, you have once again created a masterpiece. From the casual stare of the artist to the strands of hair coming from the portra...

Journal History

Activity


deviantID

XburiedinblackX
Veronica Ellis
Artist
Australia
Name: Veronica
Nicknames: Ronnie, Ron, Ronald, Ronveld, Von, Buried, Vampyre Amaranth, Macabre Mistress
Age: 18
Height: 182 cm / 5'10"
Eyes: Green.
Occupation: Student
Education: Year 12, Bachelor of Visual Arts (current)
Likes: Coffee, peanut butter, concerts, heavy metal, gothic culture, ravens, bats, snakes, puppies, poetry, dead poets, Tarot, classic literature, GOOD literature, chocolate.
Dislikes: Tea, owning cats, sisterly annoyances, prejudice, bigotry, homophobia, racism, dArama, Twilight, badly-written books and poetry, most of herself.

Can be found on: Myspace, Facebook, DeviantART, blogspot.
Blog: Amaranthine - of music and melancholia.

Current Residence: South Australia. Yay, me. The state most good bands skip.
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium in men's/unisex.
Print preference: Free?
Favourite genre of music: Metal, industrial, gothic, horror punk, dark ambient, and anything dark, heavy or both!
Favourite style of art: Manga-style. Or anything gothic and macabre. Gothic manga? Yes please!
Operating System: Windows XP Home.
MP3 player of choice: 5th gen 160GB black iPod classic. His name is Orpheus, and I cannot live without him.
Wallpaper of choice: My bedroom walls are blue, but plastered with band posters if that counts.
Skin of choice: The one I'm stuck with - acne-ridden.
Favourite cartoon character: Marvin the Martian, Wile E Coyote, Roadrunner, and Ryuk from Death Note.
Personal Quote: "I am a walking contradiction."
Interests
  • Listening to: German power metal, FUCK YEAH.
  • Reading: about the Surrealist movement.
  • Watching: Black Books.
  • Playing: Children of Mana (DS).
  • Eating: Vegemite on toast.
  • Drinking: Diet lemonade.
Well well well... it has been a long time. Unfortunately, I have been most busy, as my uncle has been moving in with us, and getting everything set up for an extra person takes quite some time.

So, I no longer have my studio, as it has been converted back to its original function - a bedroom. However, I do have a spiffy new workspace, with a funky new desk, enough space to work on, and a storage tower for my ever-growing CD collection, courtesy of JB Hi-Fi, home of $10 Iron Maiden CDs. Can't go wrong.

I've been to a couple of gigs since, too. First up was 4D Metal Mania, with Deafening Silence, one of Adelaide's best bands. While I was there, I fell in love with another band - don'tcha just love that snowball effect? - from Melbourne, called Desecrator. I was one of three people headbanging, and certainly the one getting into it the most. Poor guys, driving all the way down - about a ten-hour drive - and only three people seemed to enjoy it.

Grabbed the guitarist on the way out the door, and he gave me their EP for free. Well, after that, what can you do? You feel bad if you don't buy something. The T-shirt was worth twenty bucks, and pushes my collection over the 25-shirt mark. Add the Paul Dianno tour shirt I got a week later, and I'm well on my way...

Speaking of which, Paul Dianno was disappointing. =( At least the tickets were only about $40 AU, and I'll admit, the main appeal was seeing Universum and Skintilla together again... but still, you expect only the best from headliners. He played the songs strictly "by the book", adding no extra pizzaz or flair, and his accompanying musicians were similarly lacklustre. Bought a T-shirt though, just 'cos that's what you do, and it's now the only thing I own with Eddie the 'Ead on it. Would have liked another patch for my jacket, but there were none - though they were selling Killrazer CDs, which I found odd, since they weren't even playing on the night. Ah well, what the hell.

Jacob's kid brother's birthday was yesterday, so we took the kid to Hog's Breath Cafe for an eight-scoop ice-cream sundae that also bosated marshmallows and a bed of hot chocolate fudge. He claimed to be able to eat the whole thing, but neither of us were surprised when he couldn't. Then it was time for ear piercings - one for the boy, two each for Jacob and myself - followed by laser skirmish, which was... way more fun than I expected.

My boyfriend is a lousy wingman. -_- "Cover me!" I say. "Sure!" he says. Then he splits.

Ah, well. I won the last round, so I was pretty damn happy with that. Though the kid brother actually threatened me with death. He'll never follow through with it... I know where he keeps his pocketknife, and he's genuinely afraid of me.

My birthday September 28th, and Jacob's and my one-year on September 20th. Eeeeeeeeee!

Nothing else to report on, unless asked.

Ronnie out.

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:iconllaren:
Llaren Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you kindly for the watch! : >
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:iconrandolfo:
randolfo Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2015  Professional General Artist
thanks for watching, Veronica! :)
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:iconsevenluck:
sevenluck Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2015  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch, it's much appreciated! :>
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:iconcomatose-comet:
comatose-comet Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave :D
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:iconchristopherburdett:
christopherburdett Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks so much for the Watch! All the best!
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:iconxynode:
xynode Featured By Owner Jul 5, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
thank you for the watch:)
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:iconjamesjkrause:
JamesJKrause Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for watching!
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:iconnaruto-fan1:
naruto-fan1 Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2011
THanks for the lama
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:iconhellscomingwithme:
HellsComingWithMe Featured By Owner Jul 31, 2010
I was put up to it, it's not my fault, really. I had to pass the germs on to someone else to keep the voices at bay.

*BITE*

RULES:
1- You can bite the person who bit you!
2- You -MUST- bite 6 other people, at least!
3- You should bite them in public! Paste it on their user page!
4- Random bites are perfectly okay! (and scary)
5- You should most definitely get started right away!

Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am one (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!) If You Get 7 Back You Are Powerful creature!

1-3: you're a ghoul
4-6: you're a were-cat
7-9: you're a were-wolf
10-& Up: you're a vampire
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:iconxburiedinblackx:
XburiedinblackX Featured By Owner Jul 31, 2010
Haha, no worries. At least my inbox didn't look so lonely for a moment there...
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