Belles, Stars and Boulevards

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. [laughs] Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me "V".

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I hate talking to people and feeling alone

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Alas, I stand before you as a humble veteran, both a victim and a villain by the natural fluctuations of fate. My mask, but a reminder of a long gone past. As the visual representative of a bygone era, I stand here to rid the world of those vice and those who seek to violate freedom, as well as those who support them. They deserve nothing but vengeance, and it is not one that is selfish, because one day the value of such vengeance will profit the righteous.

Indeed I speak much and perhaps too much, it is my pleasure to meet you. You may call me V.

(Rough translation, its disturbing how many V words I still put in there.)

Labels: fragments, V for Vendetta

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I hate talking to people and feeling alone

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Indeed I speak much and perhaps too much, it is my pleasure to meet you. You may call me V.

(Rough translation, its disturbing how many V words I still put in there.)

Labels: fragments, V for Vendetta

Hi, I'm Ian.

Just another starstruck (see above for evidence*) wanderer trying to find his way in this horribly confusing and sometimes messed up world.

This space as you might have realised is for my own venting. It's where I talk, to myself. To the universe. It's where I don't lie. Much. Chances are you won't get more truth out of me than these few billion pages of angst.

My life isn't that bad. Sometimes. The good parts just usually end up being the blank dates in between the posts you see. So yes, just to practice my math and to cheer myself up a little, the number of posts is inversely proportional to my mental wellbeing. Yes that counts as math with me.

And despite the wry smile on my face and the grin I can imagine on yours, I'm still rather sombre.

I promise you I'm sunny somedays. Stick around. You never know what you may learn.

*hint may or may not be in big black font at the top of the page.

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Starstruck
Because Cute, Smart, and Funny don't mean a thing The above was supposed to be the real title, but trust me the blogskin screwed up on me Living life to the fullest And I won't say anything at all. To all the lovely bitches like you Get your boots on
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