| Just a little update |
[01 Oct 2005|09:48am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
H.I.M. - Heartache Every Moment |
] |
I’ve found that I get distracted rather easily. I know it’s no excuse, but I blame it entirely on Crabbe and Goyle. One of them, I’m not sure which one, bought this thing called a Playstation. Needless to say we’ve been behind on everything because I can’t get them away from the bloody machine for five seconds. I sometimes wonder why I even bother with them.
Pansy has a new boyfriend. She’s developed a love for long haired, tattooed muscians. The bloke is nice, just looks like a real-life canvas. His music is decent enough, though. Very hard, very fast. Pansy is just overjoyed that I approve, although I’m not sure why I wouldn’t. I thought at first she had brought him to meet us just to scare me into action, (i.e. defend her against this person and prove that I really do love her like she wants me to), but that’s not the case, thankfully. She really seems batty over this guy.
I’ve been writing and laying down vocals on some of our new songs, to be released very soon. It takes a lot of tweaking, and I’m a hard person to please. So, be patient and remember that good things come to those who don’t complain all the time because it’s taking so long.
( ”Payback” )
|
|
| I'm Back... |
[09 Apr 2005|09:35pm] |
I’m aware how long it’s been since I’ve been here. I’ve neglected my devoted fans, and for that I’m sorry. However, it took losing what I had to realize how much I love what I do.
First off, I never thought of the Countess as anything other than another one of my fans. I wouldn’t go after a married woman, much less a Muggle one at that. Her husband should keep more of an eye on her male friends instead of the lead singer of a band that has no intention of sticking around to muck up his marriage to his wife.
This little problem caused Serpensortia to get dropped from EMI. Admittedly, I was rather hacked off when I found out. First, they didn’t ask me if it was true, and second, there was no warning. Just a call telling me that the band was no longer under the management of EMI, they wanted to avoid a hit to their other bands under employment. Those other bands can sod off. They weren’t lied about by a jealous old fool.
I did what any person does when they get the stuffing kicked out of them by life. I went home. Mother was off shopping, father was, well, I don’t really know where he was, but he wasn’t home often. Pansy and the rest of the group had gone back to life as normal. They returned to their old jobs, but I didn’t have that luxury. I couldn’t go back. I’d had a taste of something great. Being adored agrees with me, and I hate that I had lost it because of a stupid misunderstanding.
But you know, you often find encouragement in the strangest of places.
( A very strange place )
So, here I am. The band is back together. The only problem was that when we reformed, because of the rumors, we couldn’t find anyone to sign us. Apparently the scandal was bigger than we thought. Greg, Pansy, and Vin were ready and willing to come back, but were disheartened that we couldn’t get signed again.
It was a month after looking for a label that I decided to start my own. They won’t sign me, sod them all. I’ll get the profits we make from the record sales. So, I present to you Scandalous Studios, might as well get a bit of fun in at the people that put us out of business in the first place. I assigned Pansy as our publicist, because besides Pansy, who is better at pretending they’re someone important? Serpensortia is back, and better than ever.
The problem was convincing the people that owned the radio stations that we were worth playing. They weren’t willing to just overlook what happened, but I was too stubborn to back down. One station has finally given in and has agreed to play our newest single during the morning rush. The song is called “Slither” written by yours truly! I honestly think it’s one of my best.
We, my band mates and I, hope to see you at one of our upcoming shows and download the new single!
Slither (Right click and Save Target As)
|
|
| hiatus |
[11 Apr 2004|01:27pm] |
This journal has been made private by the Management
until Draco starts returning our calls. Which might be anytime between tommorrow and Christmas.
We express our deepest regrets to Draco's fans ... would you like free T-shirts? :)
|
|
| they say any publicity is good publicity ... |
[10 Apr 2004|02:56am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 cranky |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Draco's annoying ringtone |
] |
Hullo, everyone … if you came here, expecting to see a charming little entry about Draco Malfoy’s latest excursion in the music industry (involving copious amounts of mascara and several bottles of gin, of course), then you should probably find something else to do.
You see, this is Pansy Parkinson here. Draco has been missing for the past month, probably sulking in some unplottable bit of land where we can’t find him, writing something angsty and depressing and full of unjust woe.
How typical of the bastard.
( Precise reasons why he’s missing, and why we should all worry. )
|
|
| V-day single. Why do I even bother? |
[16 Feb 2004|01:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 accomplished |
] |
CD sleeve designed by Abra
Well, it’s done: I’ve finally released that bloody single that they’ve been harping at me to write, and all in time for Valentine’s Day, too. Considering the fact that I loathe Valentine’s Day with an undying passion and that I do not work well when I’m being pressured by whiny record label interns and an equally irritaing manager, I consider this single release as quite an accomplishment.
( Though the inspiration behind the song came from a most perculiar source. )
David just rushed in with the latest UK Top 20 charts. Apparently the newly-released single had debuted at number 19, and it’s expected to climb to 3 by the end of this week. Crabbe tells me that the top single is a song called ‘Coldplay’ by a band named ‘Clocks’, though I’m not entirely sure about his accuracy in names.
|
|
| not the best way to start the New Year, if it's any way at all: |
[08 Feb 2004|07:10pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 drained |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Brita Spears' music |
] |
Well, if this is the new year, it can damned well sod off! I need chocolate, I need fan letters from adoring women, and I need Rita Skeeter and the press to curl up into fragile husks and die. But have my needs ever been met? NO, people insist on making my glittering existance as miserable as possible. Maybe Mother could send me a Dark Arts care package to help out ...
Anyway ... ( various reasons why I'm vaguely unpleasant this evening ... )
Oh, bollocks! As if this day couldn’t get any worse! David Foster (not that David Foster), the Manager From Hell, has just told me that I have to come out with a new single for Valentines Day! How can any artist be expected to work during a crisis like this? I don’t have any sodding inspiration for a Valentines song at the moment. (And no, Pansy, the day that you tried teaching Goyle to tie his shoes by letting him tie your bikini top and how it nearly came off because the idiot got the “bunny-ears” backwards does not count as inspiration.)
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) hayfa, caliginess, I know you're out there. Kimberly, Alex: you too. As well as a few million other adoring fans. At least one of you may have something I could scribble a few verses about ...
|
|
| Merry Christmas, Darling Minions. |
[24 Dec 2003|12:13am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 exhausted |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
obscene techno music on constant repeat. |
] |
It's been awhile since I last updated. No doubt you've missed me, as I have missed you. I have a great many reasons to why I have been gone, and hopefully you'll be so dazzled by them you'll readily forgive me:
1) I have been on tour, and was too exhausted after each performance to think of anything coherent to say. Running from hordes of screaming fans (demanding autographs, photographs, free merchandise, among other unmentionable things) can be quite exhausting. Let's not even mention trying to perform fast-paced songs on a stage littered with frilly pink undergarments. (Twisted and ankle after tripped over leopard-print thong. Don't want to talk about it.)
2) People have been running off with my laptop. Laptops, you see, are these fascinating and horribly unattractive Muggle devices that can be brought absolutely everywhere, including the loo. So many people have been using it to check this strange thing called 'e-mail', which is something like owl mail, except it comes without a hell of a lot of feathers but isn't as elegant, of course. I have been looking everywhere for the missing laptop, and eventually found it. In the loo.
3) Press conference after press conference. Meeting and greeting fans is more tiring than expected. My hand has been permanently stuck in a repetitive spasm which signs my autograph over and over once you insert a pen.
As you can see, my days have been sublime and beautiful torture. Haven't destroyed any hotel rooms yet, but I'm really looking forward to it.
This might not be as fascinating as my amazing list of Reasons Why My LiveJournal Has Fallen Into Neglect, but my opening act is this charming little band called Neville & The Toads. It's a charming little group with a peculiar name, and I haven't the faintest idea why they seem so familiar.
Anyway. The eve of Christmas is drawing near, and I expect a great many gifts to be waiting for me. (Father won't talk to me even since I embarked on my noble musial crusade, so that sterling silver lizard dagger I've been eyeing would obviously be out of the picture this year, unfortunately.) You could go and give my Fanclub a visit, for starters. *wink*
|
|
| this is your divine rockstar, on national television ... |
[17 Nov 2003|01:32am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 mellow |
] |
Such a mundane, mindless and fascinating contraption the Muggle television is. You can effectively and efficiently broadcast news from far-off places, offer interesting advice to a distant audience, and rot the brains of teenagers worldwide with mind-numbing music videos and pointless media.
If the Dark Lord were still alive to see this now, he'd definitely try to take over the Muggle world by launching his own TV channel, mark my words.
Anyway ...
( The Day That Started Off Ugly, Tumbled Into Bad, and Ended Good. No, Not The Other Way Around. )
Oh yes, another thing: While I enjoy sorting through my fanmail, seeing ongoing conversations whereby I'm not the centre of attention leaves me quite stunned.
Yes, darlings, I'm sure you have a lot to say -- but let's concentrate on what really matters here (i.e, me). *wink*
|
|
| what now? |
[26 Oct 2003|01:02am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 confused |
] |
Time seem to be passing by excruitiatingly slowly nowadays.
The upcoming television interview will be in a number of days, and in the meantime, I must bear with A) constant phone calls from that Talbolt person who insists I meet him at 8.00 in his apartment for 'coffee', and B) David, the Manager from the Deepest Bowels of Hades constantly reminding me that our tour around the British Isles starts two weeks from now, and it promises to be very, very tiring.
Oh yes: the fangirls will have a gloriously exhausted Draco to fawn over by the time the tour is over.
And ahem. I met her again today.
( Hermione Granger -- Like The Black Plague, Only Prettier And More Persistant )
|
|
|
[10 Sep 2003|06:12pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
calm |
] |
The photographs taken in our previous photoshoot ended up in some famous Muggle magazine called, Vanity Fair.
I haven't heard of such a magazine. According to David, it's quite a good step for us, but were't even on the front cover. I felt scandalized. I tried to find Pansy to complain to, but she was out shopping with David so I complained to Crabbe and Goyle instead. They didn't understand a word I was saying. I called them both twits and asked them to practice their guitar playing. They shambled dejectedly from the hotel room, leaving me utterly alone and utterly idle.
Smart, Draco. Smart.
( Later That Night )
|
|
| my, my ... |
[26 Aug 2003|08:14pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 good |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Crabbe and Goyle humming 'Weasley is Our King' |
] |
I was such in a hurry to prove to Pansy that I am, quite frankly, quite adept at this typing-keyboard-thingy, that I completely forgot to introduce myself (Mother would be so proud. What a fine-mannered boy she's raised).
For those that already know me for who I am, completely skip this entry. For those who don't, read on. I this to be the beginning of a beautiful obsession.
My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'm a rockstar (or I will be). I have dozens of adoring fans and people chanting my name before they go to sleep (or will have), and have toured all around the world to six different continents (or will travel, someday). You can say I'm the pagan god of the electric guitar. I'm blonde, wintry, rich and all rather handsomely so. I'm rated NC-17 and not to be used as a floatation device. I'm also a wizard.
So if anyone is curious to why I'm here, what I'm doing, or where the hell am I going, then check back often at this ... what's it called again? LiveJournal-thing, and I shall keep you updated. Because I'm going to make my mark on this world. And I'm not just saying that because I have Elvis as my mentor (don't ask, go here) or because I have a good feeling about this, it's because I'm Draco Malfoy.
Thank you for listening.
|
|
| My First Entry. Aren't You Supposed To Be Rejoicing Now? |
[25 Aug 2003|12:36am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 pensive |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Heartbreak Hotel - Elvis Presley |
] |
I haven't the faintest clue why I'm prattling away at this infernal machine, painstakingly finding each tiny black key and punching it in to form little words on the screen.
Apparently, while we were idly mulling about our hotel room, utterly bored, Pansy decided to muck around with our complimentary laptop computer. It's a devious, twisted little Muggle artifact -- I trust it to serve me about as much as I trust Blaise Zabini to figure out his/her correct gender.
But Pansy insisted I do something with it.
So here I am, prattling away at something called 'LiveJournal', with Crabbe and Goyle looking intently over my shoulder in a very uncomfortable fashion.
STOP LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER YOU BABOON-FACED IDIOTS.
They seemed to have taken the hint. They're raiding the room service tray now.
David F. on the other line, and I must answer the phone. I was hoping to tell you about how Pansy nearly lost her bikini top in the pool yesterday, but time doesn't seem to favour me very much.
I feel like a song ...
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
nauseated
apathetic