Post by cellophane on Nov 8, 2010 7:17:21 GMT -5
[/color][/center]EVAN ALEXANDRA VON STETTIN EIGHTEEN COLLEGE FRESHMAN
played by cellophane
"So babe, lets get comfortable. You got a nickname I can call you by?"[/font]
Call me by my fucking name, OK? It's EVAN, for the record— not Evie.
"Well, can't say it doesn't fit you. From the looks of you, I could think of just a few better. I'm just gonna call you babe for this interview. You mind? Great. Has anyone ever told you you look like.."[/font]
Camille L.? Yeah, a lot.
".. Yeah, actually. You must get that a lot. You're kind of hot, I gotta say. But for the ears out there listening, you wanna explain what's cooking?"[/font]
No, I don't not wanna explain what's cooking. What, I don't have a choice? Fine. Well, for the hordes blind folk out there, I'm not that much to look at, sorry. Brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin. I'm skinny because my last meal was probably a cup of coffee or a cigarette. That coffee drinking habit of mine also contributed to my height- or lack thereof. At five foot two, I'm the shortest in my family! Can you believe that shit?
"You are too cute. You wear this kind of stuff often, or is this just for me?"[/font]
What, this ol' thing? Heh, yeah. It's a t-shirt that's seen better days, a pair of jeans, and some shoes.
"Ohh. Are you hitting on me? Haha. No, seriously, what are you? Gay or straight? You look kinda like a swinger, if you don't mind me saying..."[/font]
Not a chance, homie. I go both ways.
"Damn. GET SOME! Hah. You wanna smoke? Drink? I got some drugs in the back if you want. -winks-"[/font]
You just don't give up, do you? I'd much sooner drink by myself than hang with the likes of you! I do smoke, like a chimney, in fact. As for drugs... Well, I'm no angel, but I'm not high right now, catch my drift?
"... Oh, so you must be a virgin, huh?"[/font]
I love sarcasm, too.
"Knew it. So, you got any secrets? Come on, you can tell me. Promise this interview won't leak anywhere."[/font]
Hah, right, but I don't care, I'll tell you. I'm jealous of my younger brother— and I hate him.
"..Ouch. Okay, don't be so cold kid. There's always a way out of shit like that. Got any ambitions, babe?"[/font]
Well, when I was a kid, I started drawing, but my mom dismissed it as "peasant scrawlings" even though I was quite good and told me to quit. I now make my living off of my peasant scrawlings.
"Okay, okay. Don't get too excited. Half of those weren't even real questions.. Okay let's see. Oh, here's a good one. Describe yourself in five or more words. Easy, right? You could go more into detail if you want, I don't mind one bit."[/font]
I don't like talking about my personality, or appearance. It annoys me, bothers me, irks me, rubs me the wrong way... Whatever. I'll just keep this short and sweet, k? I am loyal: I will be by your side until you do something that's unforgivable. I don't believe in the good of humankind. Um.... I'm sarcastic and witty. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do enjoy the company of people... Well, select people who I deem deserving of my friendship.
"Couldn't agree more babe. Alright. Um.. Oh, here's another. Five likes and dislikes?[/font]
I like: cigarettes and alcohol (whoever gets that reference gets a cookie!); drinking coffee, painting, sketching, girls, guys, animals, singing, playing guitar, pomegranate ice cream made with coconut milk, finding someone to "connect" with, being alone, the small amount of friends I have.
Guaranteed to piss me off: hipsters (if you tell me that's ironic, I'll castrate you), posers, my family, dance classes, kids that need to realize that scene is dead, black polka metal, ketchup bottles, cereal without milk, bad drivers, daycare, little kids, daycare & little kids at the same time, national treasure, songs that are annoying & repetitive, when you're singing a song and your friends join in and the don't know the words, telemarketers, drive-thru people that don't speak human.
".. Kinky! So last question. Gimme the details, how'd you get to where you are today?"[/font]
These are a bunch of experts from diaries as a kid up until... I don't know when. Please excuse the awful grammar and spelling— at least I'm coherent now!
"deer diary,
today i went to the grocry stor with mom. i saw a man who smelled bad wanted money. mom said not to give him mony so i didnt.
Love, Evan."
Age 6. My two cents: I can't believe I ever even... Like, I can't even read this.
"dear diary,
my mom is a bitch! hehehe i just said the b-word! BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!! i hope my parents don't find this. anyways, mom's pregnant. she's having a boy. there naming it brandon. i'm angry cuz no one will pay attenton to me anymore...... no one pays attenton 2 me anyways!!!!!!! :( :( :( :(
Love, Evan."
Age 10 and a half. My two cents: LOL.
"Dear Diary,
My life is spiraling downward. I couldn't get enough money to go to the Bloodred Romance concert, it sucks 'cause they played some of my favorite songs like "STAB MY HEART BECAUSE I LOVE YOU" and "RIP APART MY SOUL" and of course "STABBY RIP STAB STAB". And what's worse is that I couldn't get my hair into that flippy thingy like that guy from that band can do.... Some days.... My life is just a black abyss, you know... It's so dark and it's suffocating me. Grabbing hold of me and strangling me tighter than a pair of my skinny jeans, which look great on me by the way! My parents don't get me, y'know... They think I'm a lesbian because I like girls TOO. TOO. TOO. NOT EXCLUSIVELY. But, I mean, this isn't the 1800s. Can't two, or four chicks make out with each other without being called gay? I mean, dude's dig that sort of thing anyway! I don't know, diary, sometimes I think you're my best friend....... I feel like tacos.
Love, Evan"
Age 14. My two cents: Good God! I don't even know what to say about this... I'm so glad I'm not an emo kid anymore, haha! I thought I was so philosophical.
"Dear Diary,
OMFG I HATE PAULIE!!!!!! FOR REAL! He's like.... ten now or something. I don't know. Anyways, today he invaded my territory A.K.A my room and tore a bunch of shit up...... and shit. mom didn't even do anything! and bailey's probably out pulling a train right now, so i don't know what to do.
Love, Evan"
Age 15. My two cents: Not much has changed. Paulie's still a bitch and Bailey's probably having sex right now as we speak.
"Dear Diary,
I LOVE U SOO
Love, Evan."
Age 17. My two cents: Judging by the puke stain and cigarette burn mark on this, I'm guessing I was drunk. Or at a party.
There are a bunch of random drawings here, too. See? They're pretty cool.... Huh? That one? Oh... Um, it looks like it's of my mom... On fire... Let's move on, shall we?
"Awe, well. Least you're still alive. Got yourself, right? That's the spirit. We'll look at your interview and give you the results, so sit tight for a few minutes, okay? And don't you dare think about leaving. I'll find you and interview you again. Don't get pissy with me, I'm just the goddamn interviewer."[/font]
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