Alt Derangement Syndrome

I have an alt. I never bring him out, though. But I have an alt.

Somewhat recently I was loitering around a conversation involving distrust of alts. Not entirely out of order, this distrust, but it's still a chin tapper.

Simply having an avatar in Second Life makes one an alt. Second Life. If you're concerned that someone you meet is being inauthentic due to having or being an alt, then perhaps you should take a sharp survey of your own avatar.

Does it look just like you? Behave just like you? Shop just like you?

No. Well, sometimes close. But overall, no.

We're only afraid of being conned because we're all already cons. It's a dry pill. It may get stuck in your esophagus. Be patient, drink more water. It'll dissolve in a moment.

Barrio

Last night was a fine night for la Vida Segunda. I hung out with these two lassies for a spell on Hallelujah Azul. It's been a while since I've seen Angie. She was drenched with sass and class. So perfectly Angie.

Cat is always a sunny treat. She's my SL cousin. One cannot overdose on Ms. Catalina Mistwallow. She's like cabbage, or something healthier.

We didn't seem to do a whole lot, other than loiter like chulos. But that's how it goes. No need for setting mixes when your company supercedes the landscape.

Later on Ariel poofed in, others showed, madness ensued. As recalled, there were neck bolts, floating brains, brain-laced ice cream, cracked skulls seeping brains, cannons shooting brains, and other brain related tomfoolery.

I must admit, I get a little distracted when too much craziness erupts. It's not a bad thing, I just have a simple mind. But, in zoning out I befriended Samantha, who seems to be a safe bet on decent personality. So, bounus there.

As we wind this post down it feels as if it lacks the proper hit of cynicism and wit.

The sharp edges aren't dull, just covered in plush sheath.

Fingers Tapping

See, this is why I don't go keeping blogs all willy-nilly. It's really hard to think of anything interesting on which to dispatch regularly.

This could be a blog about a good friend that recently disappeared. She must be having a less than lovely time, and best wishes are sailed her way. Hopefully a pleasantry will drip into her coffee this morning, and she can sip it, swallow, and be merry... at least until the mug dries.

What else? Yeah. Compelling. Just try to look the other way.

Hey! That was a joke, don't actually do it!

Too late. Guess I'll just go watch The Price is Right.

Captain Studly

You know who you are. You're that avie with a super thick, muscular build, probably tribal tattoos, long, flowing locks of black hair. You're that dude with the profile that brags about how "Dominant" you are and how you like your women to submit wholly to you. You turn them into your little pixelated sex slaves. You get off hard on this.

Now, just imagine, 9 times out of 10 that chick is another dude.

Have fun with that, stud.

And... Go!

Where's my red, velvet carpet? Where are the adoring throngs showering me with the decapitated blooms of rosebushes? Where is my Gatorade bath?

Yeah, whatever. I don't need you.

But wait...

Okay, I do need you, otherwise I'm just wasting even MORE time typing to the moths that live in my modern computing robomachine. It has a DVD player, RIGHT INSIDE!!!

So I flit about this digital metaverse thingy, and for some reason feel the need to document experiences, notions, situations, and/or the ridiculous things witnessed on a daily basis. We're such an advanced race of animal, yet you'd rarely know it by watching some of the keyboard clicking simians running around Second Life.

So um... I'll talk about some of that stuff. I'll talk about other stuff, too. And neither stuff. And wither stuff. And I have no idea where this is going. Stuff.

Enjoy.