NORMAN MANNEQUIN [315-849-1827]

Hi, I'm Norman.
I'm a one piece fashion show.
For all the resons god hates you, he loves me.
There is nothing left to prove because there was nothing to prove in the first place.
understand?
I'm NOT a blogger, a myspacer, or a whore. It may look like it, but sorry NO. I'm a Hairstylist and a head tripping attention whore to society beyond oblivion and everything corporate america fears today. I know how you all want me to SHUT THE FUCK UP and TAKE A FUCKING SEAT seat but this game has started and now I'm going to fucking finish it.
It's pretty much a guarantee that any profile containing small, black, Arial font mixed in with random purple boldness is going to contain a long, winding trail of incoherent babbling, the likes of which could even make a confused Hannibal Lecter look up from his his latest platter of OH MY FUCKING GOD HE'S EATING PEOPLE!
I'm what happens when glam culture goes on a two week coke binge with paris hilton and watches nothing but Party Monster for 12 hours straight and like so many other personality-deficient assholes, I babble abstractly about absolutely everything to create an air of mystery among my confused fans. I however, unlike you, have become a myspace Must-Add and can retract up to over 300,000 hits and 7-something thousand people padding my friends list and comments.
Myspace has become a massive network of over 200 million profiles and is the most contraversial site known to man. While 90% of it's friends' consist of kids adding every profile that comes accross their browser window and trying to gain desprate attention with black hair and a lip piercing claimng to be "different" it all sounds too typical right? Hate to say it but I'M NOT ONE OF THEM people. I'm the other 10% who dosen't care what you have to say and has more hits than a whores pussy. I don't have the time THEY do and I have nothing in common with you. I'm not easily entertained, unless it's DKNY or Addictive I'm probally not going to like it.
Come to my profile and take a dose of REALITY. Get away from the photos from the party titled "omg random" and jack off to something with more class. NO scene kids here spamming the fuck out of anything they can get their hands on and NO shitty bands screaming into the microphone. Here I don't care what you have to say MY hit's refresh your memory and remind you who's running the show. It's different here, it's better here, it's quiet, hush hush, over there..the one with the purple hair.
United States Natioal Security said no more public appearences because last time my fans torched a cop car and TMZ started beating people just to get at me. The pentagon has me on radar just so they can call it a no fly zone and get their helocopters in the air and swarm me with strobes faster than CNN. Scratching and screaming my porcelain skin against the rhinestones just to get every last word out of my mouth of talking shit. God didn't give me a smile for the mouth but a voice for the thoughts. Lights, camera, action, all empty eyes on me.
I'm walking a runway show in Paris. I'm on a stripper pole with Lidsay Lohan. I'm making out with Pete Wentz on MTV. I'm student of the week at beauty school. I'm french scripted on Tommy Lee's ass. I'm crownd winner of the worldwide Olympbitchics. I'm laughing in the backseat of the limo. I'm just that bad of a person.
Call me Moses but I'm parting the sea of fans just to get through the day.
Short of the term Attention Whore I have found other ways of gaining attention other than taking my clothes off. Instead of fucking people, I fuck concepts and reality. Hate to break it to you, but I'm a real person.
Haters scream war "oh lord jesus christ" when I walk down the street or all in a protest outside my doorstep. I don't even pay attention, You all can't help but contradict. I'll SAY and DO everything you wanted to do but didn't, because I have to voice and power to do so.
The partys over and My eyelids are so fucking heavy that blinking sends a shiver of lashes thru the air. Dropped jawed Angels scream while the dead come back alive and Saitan's children pump my gas. The devils in disguise, secretly smiling inside. God fordid if the holy angels above actually had something on me, yeah right.
FUCK the game, I win. FUCK this. FUCK myspace. FUCK you. FUCK me. FUCK my roots that come in every two weeks. FUCK the flat iron because it dosen't get hot enough. FUCK the kid over there in the conrner half baked. FUCK the system that they said no one could ever beat. Internet celebrity? gag me.
[Friends are people you like, Fans are people who like you]
Everywhere I go I seem to draw attention, it's almost as you didn't expect me to be a real person. I must have missed the memmo where it states being human is the new in thing.
.. Photos by Normanmannequin on Buzznet
"Call me a bitch because I'm honest, call me ugly because you're insecure, call me stupid because you don't understand, call me different because you're the same, call me concited because I'm popular, call me materilistic because you're cheap, hate me because you hate yourself"
saynow.com/normanmannequin