(Lift. Westin. Pittsburgh. Ouch.)

NME’s annual cool list has Alice Glass from Crystal Castles at number one.

I’d wanted to shoot her for ages, and finally did last week for Prefix at the HARD Haunted Mansion crazed hallowe’en rave of doom at the Shrine Auditorium. Really difficult, really fun.

(For more, go to Prefix.)

A screenshot from my upcoming melodramumentary, When Air Conditioning Attacks!

Outside, SoCal Hallowe’ens are actually warm enough that all the girls at the HARD Haunted Mansion rave costumed as Sexy Girl In Lingerie and Sexy Girl In A Bikini (and the one brave boy dressed as Sexy Michael Phelps, with little more than eight gold medals to keep him warm) almost looked like they were dressed appropriately.

Your intrepid Non-Sexy Eskimo Photographer sweated more than is ladylike. I always forget where I am and wear English levels of layers. (Photos will be on Prefix soon.)

For your viewing pleasure while I edit the rest of the Jay-Z Hollywood Palladium show/red carpet shots. (And by “edit” I of course mean “sleep and pack suitcases and *then* edit”.)

They worked the red carpet for far longer than anyone else and were much funnier, of course.

More about my long night of sitting around on Sunset Boulevard punctuated by brief moments of frantic picture taking, total confusion and surreal chaos—I mean, my red carpet debut—tomorrow. Or the next day, or something.

I don’t have a telly any more, so I’m going through old pictures that I never posted. Seems the logical thing to do, in lieu of the usual Law & Order marathon.

(High Places at The Smell last night were really good.)

…who is basically the best dad ever, and I’m a rubbish daughter who took herself off to live on the other side of the world and then sends bad Photoshop jobs in lieu of proper presents.

That was years ago, and how times’ve changed.

(And hair. A lot of hair.) They’re playing on top of a dumpster, no less. It was pretty caved in afterwards. Sorry, Hangar 1018.

The night before they played (yeah, the whole band) held aloft by the crowd, almost getting me kicked out of the venue in the process.

It wasn’t the standing on the stage along with twenty other people taking pictures that got me in trouble, more like the taking a picture of the face of the security guard who felt it necessary to jab me repeatedly in the arm because his mother never taught him to tap someone on the shoulder like a normal person. I moved immediately, of course, but he kept at it even when I yelled at him to stop. Seriously, this bloke was a foot taller than me and at least double my weight, probably more.

I meet a lot of security guards and most seem entirely professional and human and sometimes even really nice, but then there are always those insecure few who apparently relish the opportunity to bruise people half their size. This one must’ve not got enough hugs as a child, poor idiot. (For much worse, I refer you to the Great Fuck Yeah Fest VideoThing Hollywood Bowl Melee of 2008.)

Anyway, all was fun and my bruises are fading.

Kids, there’s a really easy way to not get videotaped beating people up, and that’s to just NOT BEAT PEOPLE UP. Bloody hell.

Read all about it from the LA Weekly here: blogs.laweekly.com.