The Anarchy Pancake
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Wed, 29 Oct 2008 00:10:46 +0000
They call me Trixie, Trixie Pixie..
'I guess I just lost my husband, I dont know where he went. So I'm gonna drink my money, I'm not gonna pay his rent. I got a brand new attitude that I'm gonna wear tonight..I wanna get in trouble I wanna start a fight.' Music, the thing that gave her life. Her soul, her fuel. Her. The sound played from the tiny earphones in the girls ears. Her ruby red eyes moved to view a building "Golden Rose.." she murmured "Sounds interesting." she made her way over to the place, her gait a secret dance, graceful and energetic. Trixie pushed open the door to the place and blinked twice, taking in her surroundings. Begrudgingly, she turned off her little iPod and stuffed it into her red messenger bag. No music.... she pushed the thought away and approached the bar. Her boots clicked softly against the wooden floor. She wore a short red plaid skirt, knee-high pink and black socks, A long sleeved tight black and pink striped shirt, with a loose, pink Blondie T-shirt over it. Her nails tapped along the counter, forming tunes only she understood.
Rock 'n' Rolla'