This week I went straight-edge.
Of course, it’s a thin simulation: my “refusal” of alcohol has nothing to do with the usual, dubious subcultural refusals that always seem to have everything to do with certain luxurious subjectivities in the first place. The point is, I can’t actually drink anymore, and the X will remind me of that fact. Plus, I think it looks cool. And I could resist turning it into an Omega Gang symbol.
Now, the problem with this Omega Gang thing is that while I’m back to my Quentin Quire-ish haircut again, my hair still refuses to part like his, not even with gallons of product. So I’ve been perversely making do with something more reminiscent of Gary Oldman’s Fifth Element hairstyle. Bwa-ha-ha.
the symbol is newsworthy (is that black texta?) but i really, really dig the nail polish. looks like three coats at least. for the unconditional defence of flawless nailjobs on insurrectionists.
no-one really
4 Oct 03 at 2:21 am