Polyvore Brag Blog

Today I was shifting through some of my old sets, when I found one I'd done nearly eight months ago. It was supposed to be Queen Titania from Midsummer Night's Dream, though I'd failed badly. I decided I'd just fix the head, that's all, and then be on my merry way. Instead, five hours later, I'd completely changed it. Now there are only two items that were used in both the sets, but I'm much happier with the new one.
Because I'm so proud of how it turned out, I thought it be a brilliant idea to post them here for comparison.

Before

After :D

If you don't know what Polyvore is, I suggest you check it out.

The Story of the Bald Frog and the Wig

Once upon a time there was a handsome mid-40s man named Prince Coco of the Birdcages. Throughout the lands Prince Coco was loved, idolised even. Some would say he was the head of a cult. A cult about colts. And bolts.

One day, Prince Coco was journeying through the countryside that his father owned, watching as the poor workers waddled through radioactive mud and not giving a flying fck about it. As Prince Coco sauntered by on his trusty steed, he noticed a young woman, bending down to pick out the radishes that grew in her plot. Her long luxurious locks of hair fell over her shoulder as she moved, causing the Prince’s heart to race.

‘Damn!’ He said to himself and his steed. Mostly himself, but a little to the steed. ‘That gurl is fiiine.’

It was at that moment the mysterious beauty stood up and turned around, giving the prince a cheeky little wink. As it turns out, she was not a she, and was in fact a he. The man wolf whistled and called after the Prince; ‘see something you like, honey?’

Prince Coco tried to push his steed into a gallop, but the horse didn’t move. There was a flash of magenta light, followed by a bang. Once the mist had gone back to where it’d come from, only one figure stood in the fields; the steed. Where had Coco gone? And the Sheman, where was s/he? Surprise! The Prince was actually still on his steed; you just couldn’t see him because he was so small. As small as a frog. Because he was a frog. A bald frog.

Prince Coco let out a shriek and jumped down from the horse to look at himself in a puddle. He grabbed at his hairless head, muttering to himself about shampoos and coconut oil.

He started hopping back to the castle as quickly as his little edible legs could take him, stopping only to smell the roses. After a harrowing journey that took the poor thing half an hour, Prince Coco arrived at the gates and after a lengthy explanation, was allowed into the castle and quickly rushed up to his rooms.

As he lay in a bowl of water, munching on crispy fried flies, there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in.’ He croaked, not at all concerned as to who it might be.

Through the door stepped/pranced a large woman with a beard, swathered in lengths of sparkly fabric in all colours. ‘Your majesty, your cowardly father sent me to help with your problem.’ She said, making a provocative gesture. What that gesture was, we’ll never know.

‘Oh goodie.’ Said the Prince, picking up his foot to show her the large, puss oozing boil. ‘I’ve had this for a few weeks now. I’ve been meaning to see someone about it.’

‘No, no, no!’ She stamped her foot with frustration, sending up a cloud of white… dust. ‘I’m here to help with the lack of hair upon thy head.’

‘Oh! Don’t remind me of that. I was just forgetting.’

‘For a king to have no hair upon thy head, thy not good. Thy will only know of thy predicament from a prophecy from thy talking lime green badger that shoots laser beams from its eyes. That would be awesome. But because thy has none lime green talking badger that shots laser beams from its eyes, I’m here to help thy. Thy thy, thy thy-thy. Thy.’ The woman looked down at Prince Coco with eyes the colour of a newly born unicorn’s mane, after it has just taken its first steps into the flower dotted Meadow of Rainbows, and a kind of lust. Though it was mostly just unicorn legs and pity. ‘I have fashioned thy a miniature wig.’ She knelt down in front of Prince Coco’s bowl and reached into her beard, pulling out the perfect toupee. The wig was a beautiful thing, as red as the Rolling Stones logo and as wonderful as a drag queen on opening night.

‘For me? Gee! Danke, random beard lady, danke indeed.’ He reached out for the toupee and fitted it on his head, brushing down the sides. ‘It looks natural, doesn’t it? I knew it would.’

 The woman straightened up the toupee and sprinkled glitter over the hairline. ‘Whenever there is a person confused about their new haircut, I’ll be there. Whenever someone needs advice on what conditioner to get, I’ll be there. Wherever a bald frog is worrying about his hair loss, I’ll be by its side, offering magical toupees.’ She stood up; her creaking bones sounding like primary school kids trying to play Green Sleeves on their recorders. With one hand on her wide, multiple belt clad hip, and the other stroking that magnificent beard of hers, she stared out at the kingdom, a convenient ray of sun lighting her up like a Christmas tree. ‘For my name if Magical HairyLady, and I fight for those who go through bad hair days.’ In a cloud of rainbow coloured glitter and hairless moles, Magical HairyLady disappeared.

Unfortunately, Prince Coco hadn’t been listening to a word of that fcking fantastic speech, because he’d been staring at his reflection between two nobly knees. ‘I am a handsome bugger.’

Read me!
This was supposed to be for the 'Random Question' thing on my profile, but it was a bit too big. So I posted it here instead, not wanting it to go to waste [after spending hours of sweat and blood over it].

So what do you want to do after you leave school?

It seems as though ever adult I’ve met or talked to since Year Ten has asked me the question. I know they meant well. Or they might even be genuinely curious. But most of the time it’s just them making conversation. Bastards. I hate conversation. If I could have it my way, I’d be living happily in a cave in the mountains. Possibly with monks, but I hear they throw wild parties and that might keep me up at night. Unfortunately, that is not an answer I can give the adult who hath asked.

 I used to just reply with; ‘I don’t know.’ But that usually resulted in them thinking they could sort of my problems in one lengthy, three hour long discussion. It never worked. They’d tell me I have plenty of options, and that I could do pretty much anything I wanted while I was still young. But that conversation usually ended with them going on about all the regrets and mistakes they’d made. The second option was them giving me options and asking about my hobbies, like; ‘Well what do you do in your spare time?’ or ‘Is there any field in particular you want to study at university?’ Because apparently it was a crime not to attend the strictly religious uni around the corner.

For a while I told them I wanted to study nursing or history, but then they’d make me chose which one. After a while I decided it was probably best to just agree with everything they said to get the conversation over and done with. Nodding and smiling was the best way to go. If it was really dragging on, I’d say something along the lines of; ‘You’ve made me see the light, I must go sign up for the history of magic right away!’ And dash off into the sunset. It didn’t always turn out like that however.

Recently I’ve decided I’ll give them a definite answer. I’ll tell them I’m going to study badgers in the rainforest and under the sea for three and two quarters of years, and then go study how to make top hats for really small people at a Uni they’ve never heard of. After I’ve gotten my Top Hat degree I’ll take it to a third world country like England or something, and I’ll set up a charity for really small people by providing them with top hats (it’s a service the world needs). Once I’ve provided the world’s population of really small people with top hats, I’ll go and live in a cave in the mountains with a few monks to keep me happy.

Life. Planned.

Sup?

If someone explained to me in excruciating detail how to start a blog, I still wouldn't know how. This will possibly be one of the sketchiest posts you've ever read.


My name is Lily, I'm currently 16 unless I was adopted and my "parents" stole me from Wonderland and no one actually knows my age, and I live in Australia, unfortunately not Wonderland, though the animals here look like they could be from another planet. I have family and friends like most people, and a pet faerie called Winklebottom. That would be cool. I wish I had a pet faerie called Winklebottom. Instead I have two loving albeit slightly "slow" dogs named Dog and Dogs. I don't think you need to know much more about me, other than the fact I don't know how active this will be. Let's hope its active. And maybe even popular, but I wouldn't bet on it.


Oh wait! I remembered something I needed to add; you know the "total profile views' thingo on profiles? The 26 is just me. I haven't been viewed. That's what she didn't say because it was lame.