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Saturday, August 28, 2010

From the profile of a Second Lifer

I love intelligent, articulate, sensuous people. A touch of class is a plus and a sense of humour a must.
However, if your name looks like someone just knocked over the scrabble board, that's a bad omen
Also, if your idea of a chat-starter is 'Where are you from?', I'll have to shoot you
And, if I'm chatted up by one more badly-dressed, appallingly-shoed creature with boobs that in RL would need two industrial-strength wheelbarrows to carry them around . . . I'll probably shoot mySELF!
If you're in Second Life complaining about the allegedly over-tall height of the average avatar, maybe you should move on to Third Life and see if you can find peace and happiness there?
Or maybe - just maybe - you need to get back into First Life, find yourself a therapist, get your neurosis sorted out and stop being a right royal nit-picking pain in the collective ass of everyone else in the entire bloody universe?
Or - here comes another option - you could stay here, shut the f*** up and just go with the flow?
You know it makes sense.
I am, as everyone knows, a person totally without prejudice . . . but I do draw the line at foreigners
Why? Cos they all hate the English. Even our close neighbours the Irish, Welsh and Scots hate us with a passion.
Our nearest foreign neighbours, the French, have always hated us and nowdays they're getting their revenge for Agincourt by being so annoyingly slim while the English all sit around feeling superior and scoffing cream cakes.
I swear to God, there isn't ONE fat woman in Paris. If you go there, you'll see it's true! Grrrrr!
Having said that, the ones that really annoy me are the Germans. The nerve of those people! They speak our bloody language better than WE do!
If you doubt it, equip yourself with a German phone book and dial any number. I bet whoever answers can speak English
Now try the same thing in England. Half the people you phone can't speak English cos half the population has emigrated and been replaced with Al-Qa'eda!
We're doomed, I tell you. Doomed!
I'm not very good at relationships, particularly with men.
Ir all stems from a blind date that went horribly wrong: we've been married for 4 years now.No, I'm joking. The real reason is probably because, as a baby, my parents-to-be found me on
their doorstep. Well, just off the doorstep, actually: the door opened outwards. For my first four
years, I was raised as a milk bottle
Probably explains why I favour very pale skins in SL
But seriously, I really am no good at relationships, In fact, nowadays there are only about 17 minutes every month when I don't want to drive a huge wooden stake through somebody's heart and dance a very energetic Irish Jig on their face
Okay, I'm exaggerating a little
There are actually about 25 minutes per month when I don't want to do either of those things
But some things continue to annoy me. When Michael Jackson passed away, it seems 60,000 people volunteered to carry his coffin.
That's all well and good but where were these people when Barry White died?
The main reason men and women can't communicate is because women speak in Estrogen while men listen in Testosterone.
I've tried sex with girls but they expect you to do half the work!
It's much easier with men: all they expect you to do is BE there.
Having said that, I have to confess that with the 'right' woman, it really blows my socks off in a way it's never done with men.
Oh, no! Now you know I wear socks in bed.
D'oh !
© Suzanne Pevensey (although it's been stolen by Ariell Nightfire and used in her picks).
My grandmother always complains that the young men of today aren't as polite and charming as they used to be.
I have to explain, "Gran, it's because they're not trying to fuck you now."
Tiger Woods is attending a therapy group for sex addicts.
A therapy group for sex addicts? Isn't that a bit like going to a WeighWatchers meeting and finding that everyone else there is, in fact, a cake?
When I was still at school, I wrote to Tampax suggesting a brilliant TV advert in which an animated tampon (with a cute little face and everything) sings "Nothing could be finer than to be in your vagina in the morning".
They weren't impressed.
And talking about you-know-what, even at university it used to take me by surprise every month. I'd suddenly go "Aaaaaagh! What the f . . . !?!?" and then "Oh, yeah, it's THIS thing again".
On SL and the Teahouse...
In its heyday this was by far the best place in SL for girls of a certain persuason
I've met some really nice genuine girls here as well as some very suspicious ones with unfeasibly large bosoms and/or overtly sexual usernames or tags that were obviously dreamed up by some guy whose only RL experience of being inside a woman was the time he visited the Statue of Liberty
My parents don't know I have this side to my sexuality and, even if they did, they'd never come close to understanding. My mother thinks tribbing is something you do with the light fantastic

and my dad thinks Sappho was one of the Marx brothers
One thing's for sure, though. SL is certainly educational. Some people become expert builders, others script wizards. I even know one girl who spent so much time lezzing it up at the Teahouse she was awarded the Nobel Prize for Cliterature
But, if you decide to spend time here, please don't imagine that the girls here are just pieces of meat
They're not
Some of them are vegetables
I sometimes feel
Nothing is real:
Not you, not me, not sex appeal,
Not Penny Lane, not Strawberry Fields,
Not Deal or no Deal -

Suzanne Pevensey

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