“Mardi Gras, baby. Mardi Gras. Time when all manner of weird shit cuts loose and parties down.”
— Sherrilyn Kenyon, No Mercy
We were walking down Bourbon Street the other night, and came across this sign outside the Absinthe Cafe. Can’t think of a better argument in favor of bacon, can you …?
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This is a quick look at a L$ 50 dress being offered during the current Energy Weekend. This knit mini comes in several colors (and I’d wear system panties as a precaution!), and is good for curling up in at home with a fire, a book and a snifter of brandy.
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The details:
Zana stepped back into her apartment the next morning, thoroughly relaxed by the night’s activities … all of the night’s activities. It had been a stressful term so far, even for a cyborg; of course, graduate studies were always stressful, but psychology was tougher than most. And add into that my personal psychotherapy starts in two weeks, she thought as she moved into her bedroom to change out of her finery, into a casual unitard. God knows what little gremlins will turn up then! She had always considered herself well adjusted and mentally healthy. Who but God could guess what a qualified psychotherapist would find …? Then her lips quirked back in a mercurial change of mood. Although her career would be made, perhaps, as the author of the first case study on a ‘borg in the literature!
The small jest improved Zana’s mood; but she still felt the need for some encouragement, or at least a shoulder to cry on for a few picoseconds. Glancing again at the holographs on the mantel, she regretted not returning home to her parents’ house. Still, there were other ways of getting together with family … not as satisfyingly tactile, but they would do in a pinch …. She said to the room, “Computer, please call Ariel Sherman, home code, full holo.” She sat on her couch as the computer beeped.
Shortly, a full-body image of her mother, wearing a green casual outfit and a purple silk duster, appeared in the holoprojection field created by the comm program. “Hi, sweet one! What makes you call on this fine Saturday morning?”
Read the rest of this entry »I came in world the other night, and discovered a notecard waiting for me … and got quite surprised when I read it. I’d been invited to give my profile for a magazine that’ll be coming out in a little time (I don’t know when at the moment). They said they could send a photographer out to shoot me; but my schedule is hectic at the moment, to say the least. So I decided to take the other option, and shoot myself according to their specs. (Be kind … always follow the instructions.)
Chess is a sea in which a gnat may drink, and an elephant may bathe.
Unknown proverb, variously attributed
Chess, like love, like music, has the power to make men happy.
Siegbert Tarrasch
Her heart is water, its own self its stay.
James J. Ryan, “Her Heart is Water.” Poetry Magazine vol. 33, no. 5 (February 1929), p. 240.
It will be fog or cloud or haze, or frail
Mists that wander after daylight pale.
It will be all things: the sea’s salty spray
White in the wind, cast fuming on a shore
Stone-desolate; a river’s liquid song;
A fountain wearing jewels for a throng
Of dancing waves; a pool forevermore
Quiet under leaves gold-rimmed, death-black;
A sea-mirror; or, made of sweet love dreaming,
A crystal well; a molten river gleaming
Under hot sun, flame following its track;
Falls rapids; wild water of storm and trouble;
Or, being quit of love, a gay bubble.
Photographed at Thornfast region (Fantasy Faire 2019)
I went wandering through Dublin last night, and discovered that I had been gone for quite a while. The owners are revamping the sim again, moving backward (in a sense) to a sort of composite of what was in the old Dublin 1 and 2. (Don’t get yourself into a lather with worry — the Blarney Stone is still there, with all its programming.) And it was a joy to me to find that they had brought back (in a more up-to-date fashion and under a new name) the little hole-in-the-wall barbershop that had so enchanted me in my early days. It’s bigger to a degree, but it’s still down a flight of stairs from the upper area, still with retro posters and paintings and hairstyle photos.
Take a look some time at the “new” Dublin, and hopefully enjoy all the old goodies they’ve brought back, as well as some new ones. Be careful about going into some of the doors, however, as there are some spots that have solid thief doors hanging down a little. You may get your way in; but I was almost trapped inside the local post office. I had to double-click my way out (and discovered that Dublin now has point-to-point teleport disabled).
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The details:
Photographed in the Green Rooster Barber Shop, Dublin
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright)
Sun-shiny day
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin’ for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day
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I’m wearing:
Men don’t settle down because of the right woman. They settle down because they are finally ready for it.
— Laurell K. Hamilton, A Kiss of Shadows
Unlike Harper, who was exploring the spiritual side of Christmas, or Jem, who decided to freeze herself outside, Morgan and me went for a nice, warm room in Babbage.
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
My Johari window -- visit and offer your ideas on my personality
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