Madelyn and Mirsha: Coming to a Sim Near You

I have a mate in-world named Mirsha. She's just one of those people I clicked with almost instantly, and now we are prone to having very silly and very funny chats in the middle of masses of people who are simply trying to have a good time. For Christmas, I thought I'd do the copy-and-paste trick and give you perhaps a gift of a giggle or two.

This took place when I visited her at the place she works, which naturally enough, is all about dancing and sex.

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Mirsha Loudwater: what'cha looking at?
Madelyn Writer: taking a short tour of the upstairs with my camera
Mirsha Loudwater: ooh, I see
Madelyn Writer: oh good, you have a 'fisting' option on Bed One.
Madelyn Writer: nothing i like more than five fingers up my cooch.
Mirsha Loudwater: I've never been into that...
Madelyn Writer: i prefer footing. same principle. you just have a bloke bury his leg up to the knee.
Mirsha Loudwater laughs
Madelyn Writer: if you get a small enough bloke, you can have a reverse birth
Mirsha Loudwater: tried that once... Took a while and one of his friends to get him out again
Madelyn Writer: oh dear. did they have to use a cro bar?
Mirsha Loudwater: no, they attached hooks and stretched so he could climb back out.
Madelyn Writer: good. at least it wasn't painful.
Mirsha Loudwater: now, if only he hadn't been a reporter, I wouldn't have to hear from it
Madelyn Writer: reporters are lousy lovers. i had this one fellow who would NOT put down his microphone. "this is chuck stevers, live from Madelyn's bed" etc.
Mirsha Loudwater: better than weathermen. oh, I hate weathermen
Mirsha Loudwater: the term 'looks like it's going to be wet and slippery' gets real old, real quick
Mirsha Loudwater: then he started bitching about dry seasons. i'll never sleep with my dad's friends again.
Madelyn Writer: i got lucky. i had one once and he went on about a high pressure zone moving in from the south. of course, he was 50/50 when it came to predicting.
Mirsha Loudwater: oh, I had this traffic reporter once, he ended up blocking both exits
Madelyn Writer: better than having a restaurant critic, though. those fellows are never happy. kept stopping to write notes.
Madelyn Writer: kept talking about ambiance. jeez. talk about pressure.
Mirsha Loudwater: you should try a wine taster
Mirsha Loudwater: 'this one has a big upper body, but weak legs and a shallow lower body'
Madelyn Writer: i did once, i think. showed up, had a sip, left. i was put off.
Madelyn Writer: that's why i'm off your dad's friends, too.
Mirsha Loudwater: dad himself is pretty good, though...
Madelyn Writer: i'll say
Mirsha Loudwater: he's unemployed, so he can focus, at least...
Madelyn Writer: he is? he told me i gave him a good job.


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SL / RL Parallel

Whether used as escapism or exploration, Second Life proves that old addage from that terrible movie 'The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai': wherever you go, there you are.

While continuing my Never-Ending Aimless Tour, in which I plonk a random word in SL's search engine and go wherever it tells me, I met a nice guy. Good attention to his clothes and appearance (even the eyes appeared to be the result of shopping, not stumbling a box of free eyes in the middle of a cornfield). An astute sense of humour - including fairly enjoyable bad-joke exchanges regarding angles (involving "obtuse questions" and "acute avatar" - groannn) and actuarials being the only people on Earth who could make accounting interesting to the regular world. A willingness to be lured away from a couple of stumbling noobs for a short dance with no chance of it going further than that.

And my first thought, as it is in RL, is: OK, what's wrong with this guy?

UPDATE -- I later found this fellow in real life - the hows and whys I will not go into. My journalistic instinct suggested I keep the information to myself. However, my personal instinct won out and I contacted him and told him how I found him, etc. Because he has a public position with authority, I advised him to get a different avatar if he wanted to pursue personal relationships (as he had intimated). He was a bit shocked by this revelation, and I admit to being a little concerned over how he would handle it. By the end of our chat, he appeared willing to consider a second avatar - one that would have no contact with his main one. I felt dead awful for scaring him like that, but better me than an associate of his.

Dear Members of BLOODLINE

Dear members of BLOODLINE:

Like a virtual version of HIV, you have entered and spread through Second Life. Like HIV, you contanimate and offer nothing in return. Like HIV, much of your behaviour can be linked to assholes. Like HIV, life is better without you.

When I show up at a ballroom, I don't want to see a dropdown menu asking if you can bite me. When I go shopping, I don't want to see a dropdown menu asking if you can bite me. If I'm at a coffee shop with mates, I don't want to see a dropdown menu asking if you can bite me. You get the idea, yeh?

And when I get a dropdown and you ask me if you can bite me and I say, "Sure! Can I shit in your mouth?", don't cop an attitude. It's you invading my space and interrupting my time that inspired my retort. I am just as short if someone would ask me for my shoes or ask if they can put a tattoo on me for their own benefit (and, in effect, you do, as the only thing a victim can get is a crappy looking pair of holes to wear on one's neck).

Whatever you get from going around "on the hunt", as you lamely put it, I suspect it's only marginally more than what your victims get. You "own" 500 souls? Whoopie mother fucking doo, mate.

And if you accuse me of "being young", as Whatevah Antfarm did, and your boyfriend decides to orbit me when I refuse to be bitten, as Wandering Antfarm did, you transcend stupid and go directly to retarded. You get reported, fucktards. Now you'll have something else to tally up that's meaningless.

In short, please, please, for the love of God, fuck yourselves.

Best,

Madelyn

Second Life: The Global Community

One of the most spectacular things about Second Life is being able to meet and interact with people from all over the world. It is only here that you can effectively meet a 64-year-old retired police officer from Brussels or a 17-year-old woman from Quebec within a few virtual feet of each other. Or, if you're amazingly lucky like me...

[5:11] Nicolas Cerise: hi
[5:11] Madelyn Writer: hey nic
[5:11] Nicolas Cerise: how are you?
[5:12] Madelyn Writer: not bad, yeh. how's your travels today?
[5:12] Nicolas Cerise: good:)
[5:13] Nicolas Cerise: i look at exciting places:)
[5:13] Nicolas Cerise: and you?
[5:13] Madelyn Writer: i look at whatever can interest me
[5:14] Nicolas Cerise: let me show better place at this?
[5:14] Madelyn Writer: wow. i have no idea what that means.
[5:14] Madelyn Writer: :)
[5:15] Nicolas Cerise: :)
[5:15] Nicolas Cerise: let me show it?
[5:15] Madelyn Writer: i'm sorry? show what?
[5:16] Nicolas Cerise: you would eat better place
[5:16] Nicolas Cerise: nice, exciting
[5:16] Madelyn Writer: eat better place?
[5:16] Madelyn Writer: i'm sorry. i am not understanding you very well.
[5:17] Nicolas Cerise: sorry
[5:17] Madelyn Writer: no worries. i think i'll be moving on now.
[5:17] Nicolas Cerise: I am not very good angolbol yet
[5:18] Nicolas Cerise: where moving on?
[5:19] Madelyn Writer: i have no idea

Yes, if you're lucky like me, your chance conversations tend to look like outtakes from the movie, "Borat."

Brutal E-Youth

I do confess I often stoop to the disdain for newbies that baffled me when I was new.



In the old days of my newbiedom, when guilty of little more than not knowing how to walk [or perhaps having expertise in running just into the side of a doorway], I would flounder just long enough to incur the wrath of someone who had been in the game for a long time - especially if there was a group around to impress. I would take all the insults, then slink off to derisive laughter and a chorus of insulting wav files.



"What are they being so uptight about?" I would think to myself, but I kept otherwise silent. Standing face to face with a Borg-looking dominatrix with wings, while I had little remarkable about myself than a jerky walk that made me look like I had early-stage Parkinson's, did not suggest there would be a good ending to any fight. Plus, I had the foresight to realize there was much I did not know - and as I discovered guns, orbiters, distorters and the like, I realized I was correct - so to engage with a person of experience could be up the ante on the Humiliate-o-meter.

But to flash forward, I do, as I said, occaisionally snipe at newbies in the same manner (sans the nasty wav files, which I've never gotten into). Perhaps this is just a reflection of my school days (and probably yours), where the upperclassmen always took the piss over a juniorclassman and his ignorance of the way things were. Or a reflection of my current job as a freelancer, which is its own little irate community in and of itself, with people with a hundred articles published or feeds drawn on tend to snarl a bit at those with only ten or are just starting out.

In truth, I am aware of this rather silly habit of mine, and try to temper it with at least some good advice (ie, 'buy some shoes, no one want to smell your feet') so I don't come off as horrible as those who picked on me. I hope this softens the blow for my muppet-looking victims, and isn't just a justification in my own mind to be a twat.