In case you haven't heard my name being whispered in your bedroom at night...

[Yuki Damon: Miss Lipstick Nazi]

I'm a MAKEUP ARTIST. I'm a PRINCESS. AND I'm the BADDEST bitch in this game. [Life]

Yuki Damon wasn't born beautiful. I scratched, screamed and screwed out an existence from the back woods of Deliverance amidst the farmers and tan Californian wannabe hookers of rural Edmonton in Alberta. In a city where everyone looks the same, talks the same, an dresses the same, I never felt like I belonged there.

It almost hurts to be too beautiful for heaven, but I can't frown as much as I can't smile so we'll have to say that such feelings are below royalty like me. [our]Father couldn't stand to look at my porcelain fucking skin and the angels were screaming war so he threw me to earth in fresh dead seal coats, soft and warm with the blood on the inside to keep my cheeks a rosy blush.

I know you all want me to stand around and look pretty, but I'm actually a real person. Barely.

[notso]sorry, but I look better than all of his androgynous angels[whomodelforcalvinkleinsparetime] with my skirt as the only shield to hide my cold dead doll[scouldneverbesoperfect] eyes.

They stopped giving me badboybodyguards because every one couldn't help but fuck me and plastic mannequins can't say no when the college boys drill holes in them for fun. My hair only stays so perfect from all the Cristal bigblackdick rappers pour in it at all the wet pussy contests I get dragged to.

This that is perfect. This that is beautiful. This that is everything you wish you were [YukiDamon] and this that is the strength to go through with everything to get it. You can stand and scream like other so called saints about my flaws but fact is that you wish while I AM.

I am the ONLY star of Edmonton that the paparazzi has an emergency speed dial number for simply so that they can band together to fight through MY fans to get my picture. Call me Auntie Moses, because when I step out my front door the red sea of screaming YOU seem to greet me daily and they've set up reserved parking across the street to camp out at my doorstep. I don't even need to go to Japan to be surrounded by yellow skin and eyes too slanted to see sun. Walking down the street becomes a gauntlet as little Asian schoolgirls do a woodwork pop out. After all, it's called Yuki-pop for a reason.

Runways are the same as rape are the same as photo shoots while you stick those fingers so deep down my [god help me it's throat isn't it?] and pry open those lips for a smile you never built me for. Flickers from cameras sum up to some memories and every pose has to be a sick joke but I'll do it because even with skinned knees to a linoleum floor among dope fiend whores.

I'm a sick fucking twist [Chris Brown?] and I don't suggest humoring and/or enjoying me. Despite all my love and loyalty I like to bite heads off passers by. I have a sweet tooth for scene boys and naive girls, and it's as much an issue for I as it is they.

I'm the head of the Makeup Mafia. Look but don't touch.

I'm a bad, bad person [Jesus] I'm red alert and high risk. Your life can't be anywhere near that boring. There must be something safer you can do. If you want to alter your perception then just shoot or sniff, you'll be doing far less damage than conversing with me. Spending time with me. Because I seem to have an addictive personality and I'm surrounded by grindstone snobs that don't seem to notice nor care the effect I have on them.

Perfect and Plastic, it's just natural.

http://www.Yukidamon.com