Monday, February 28, 2011
When I was little my grandparents tried to tell me that having my hair short was stylish, set me apart from the other girls, and much easier. Like ya thanks, that is really what every little girl wants .. to look completely different from everyone else. In fairness to my grandparents, it was easier .. it was easier for everyone to find something to tease me about ... it was like I laid it out on a platter and served it up to them ... oh Blissy with the short boy hair ... oh Blissy of the bowl cut ... wow .. thanks grams.
I was reduced to wearing a skirt on my head to effect long hair when we played princesses ... the only dweeb with the bowl-cut when you play princess is the prince and I was sick of being the prince when no boys could be blackmailed - simply because I had short hair - and hence the skirt became my mane .....
Skirt hair is very effective, it can be very bright and colourful, lightweight , you can take it off to wash etc, it never gets a bald spot, lice or mange, it flows quite nicely and fully down the back and is great for flicking and tossing ... Pants are good in a pinch too ... you can add bows and make them pig tails .. or braid them together and then pile it on your head. I would wear that for the red carpet look ...
I miss skirt and pant hair .... I tried it once when I went out with my hubby but he was all mad on account of I didn't decide until after we were out for the evening and the only skirt I had was the one I was wearing with my outfit.
Another fanstastic option from the skin fair ... well it is an option in normal, un-naked, un-bald life too in SL .. I mean Cheerno is a store that was before the fair and will be after but this skin is available now at the Skin Fair and Skin Fair is like the adult sick-o masochistic version of Disneyland .. only without the tea cups.
You don't want to miss it because you just won't be able to participate in any chat group across the gird unless you are on the same page. It is the page under the chapter ... "Hell in a Hand Basket is a picnic compared to Hair Fair 2011." All the chats are about ...
"are you in yet?"
"been trying for days and no luck"
"I have been standing here naked, all ready to go for hours yet but just when I think I am getting in, everything goes black..."
"I know what you mean, one of my friends said he was pulling out and I should come now but I wasn't quick enough..."
"I got in once for a couple of secs but then they booted me cause I had hair..."
"ohhh it's true then what they say ... they make you take everything off???"
"yes but they have free boxes they lend you if you have problems moving ..."
You won't be able to complain as effectively unless you get there and survive ...
Just one word of caution ... reading this privately to yourself is one thing ... being on voice on the train coming home and having others HEAR the conversation without the same frame of reference ... not so good ...
be safe out there ....
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I locked myself in the office, clicking my mouse endlessly, whimpering with the pain, wrapping my repetitively strained and injured wrist with my old house coat and a pair of old pantyhose and telling myself to buck up and work through the pain, this was the SKIN FREAKING FAIR for crying out loud. Winners are Grinners. Losers .. not sure .. but they don't smile much …
There I was for days clicking, praying, burning incense, offering my children up as sacrifice to the Skin Fair Gods and the LL teleport system and the Sim Capacity bosses and finally I got in!!!
I did the victory dance screaming and shouting until my neighbours threatened if I did not shut up they would call the police and I realized it was 3AM. You lose all track of time when someone dangles skins in your face …. look at Hugh Hefner … he never has time to get out of his pajamas.
So I wanted my avi to dance but quickly realized there were other priorities, get naked, get bald, move like a stilted robot, and hold the arrow key down forever praying to the rez gods that you might see some other colour but grey ..... I looked at the frozen naked avis off in the distance obviously those that did not make it out alive from last years fair. Other avis were massaging their naked bodies all over mine as they landed and attempted to move .. And it was then that my mother in law walked in the door.
She screamed, I screamed, and she stood there her one hand over her eyes, her other pointing at the screen ….
"OMG you ARE a pervert. It's SL isn't it? I knew it. I knew it. A Current Affair is NEVER wrong. "
"Don't be ridiculous, go back to bed, nothing to see here."
"Are you kidding me, ALL of you are naked, I was not born yesterday, I KNOW debauchery when I see it."
"Don't get your panties in a knot . .. this is not what it seems."
"Well what is it then?"
"It's a fair."
"I don't see any clowns .. not that anyone could tell, if everyone is naked then who knows what anyone is .. there is a reason we wear clothes you know."
"So that we can easily identify the clowns?" I sighed. "No ... look this is a special fair." ummmm you know know when you say something and as soon as you do you know that it did not help your cause in anyway?? "It's a skin fair .. like .. you know we buy these .. " I was trying to point at the displays of the various skins and makeups but the camera got caught with lag and there my screen froze on an image of several naked women with the sign "Buy all 3, special fair price" ... digging, digging, sound of shovel on hard rock ….
"OMG you are buying those naked women ... STOP I don't want to hear anymore ... I am telling our minister what kind of sick woman you are."
"Believe me he knows …see this woman right here? That is him, "Sparkle BigBoobs… want me to say "hey" to him for you?
So here's the thing, my mother in law hates me even more, she has become an avowed atheist, the neighbours think I killed someone with all the screaming going on, I didn't get to shop on account of we had to take my mother in law to the hospital to settle the heart palpitations … and all because of the Skin Fair.
Next time, I think I will just give the minister my shopping list and let him score skins for me .. It is far to dangerous for me to go on these missions by myself.
Adam n Eve.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Hats are big here in Australia .. I mean we wear them in Canada .. well I wore them in Canada but there you have felt hats, warm hats, cool hats and sun hats and dress hats.
Here you have sun hats and dress hats. The sun hats are anything on your head, including shorts, to keep your head from becoming a flaming ball of fire, a red beacon unto low flying UFO's, and also to keep the cancer mongers away ...
The dress hats are anything with a feather or a ribbon or a flower and a bit of tuille etc. They can be ginormous, shading an entire football stadium of people standing within 3 miles OR they can be so teeny you have to resist the urge to brush the bit of fluff out of someone's coiffed do.
The point is here in Aus you put a hat on and suddenly there are all these little bright coloured satiny men perched on thundering power with hooves between their legs (get your minds out of my gutter) racing past and people screaming, while sipping champaign and trying to keep their boobilage contained in the sausage casing of a dress they are wearing. Age matters not and nothing says BABE like a 90 year old pruned and sundried with a tight strapless, skirtless, backless, red dress and a big hat. I love senior cleavage ...
In Canada you put on a hat and snowstorm hits and buries you and everyone else. In about three weeks time an overweight man in 83 layers of clothes sitting in a noisy bright orange ginormous machine called a grader that can get up to speeds of like 2kph (going down hill) comes by and uses those pompoms sticking up out of the snowbank to know where the road is. No-one even cares about boobilage.
HAIR: Glitter Hair
OUTFIT AND SHOES: Inga Wind
Friday, February 25, 2011
I have issues with the word "housewife … "
I did not marry a house .. In fact if houses were my lovers I would be a slut …. If I lived in the middle east someone would have stoned me by now .. I have had that many houses.
I am a serial houser, I sleep with all of them .. and on the first night .. no waiting … but I usually insist on being wined, dined, bathed, and teeth brushed prior to bedding down. I am not completely easy.
It would make more sense to be called by our hubby's first name-wives. She is a "Johnwife," she is a "Brucewife" ...you get the idea .. Or even a "manwife" or "husbandwife." I guess I should be thankful I am not "vacuumwife" or "fridgewife" or "ironwife."
Although is men were more like houses you could repaint them, move to a new one, auction it off, clean it, have them gutted, redecorate, demolish, upgrade, leave a deposit, take out a loan against them, leave them to the children ... oh wait .. in those respects men are EXACTLY like houses.
It just proves that no-one cares to know our real names. I mean I was Aria my whole life and everyone seemed to work with that. The teacher would call out our names and we would hold up our hands … evenutally by year 11 we could do that without hints and someone tapping our arms. We knew our names … and then they try to blend us all in again. I think that is just cruel after getting us all hyped up that we had our own name and could use it when referring to ourselves. Now I am a housewife - not even housewife #832,567,345,988,123,122,443 .. just "housewife."
Well if you can't beat them ... beat them with it I always say ...
I told my hubby that the "house and I" needed time alone, we had been married for years now and never had any time alone … then I shoved him and the kids out onto the lawn and locked the doors. I told him this was a belated honeymoon and we would need at least a month…. the house and I .... In the meantime he could be a "tenthusband" or a "tentdad" or "homeless" .. I would leave that up to him.
SHOES: Vanity (xstreet only)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The 3 of us were inseparable.
Life took us through some of the most amazing adventures. We laughed, we cried, we were fearless as we conquered life, lending comfort to one another, strength to go on ... There was no-one I would have wanted with me more to while away the long dark nights when none of us were sure that morning would even come. The trips we made, clinging to each other, life rafts to one another amidst the sea of life's tragedies...
We didn't care that people taunted us .. called us babies, tried to pull us apart from one another, insisted that we all grow up, threatened us, bribed us .. we just refused to listen to others, we kept our eyes on each other, we pledged our undying love in word and deed .. we just knew ...
Life is funny like that ... that the 3 of us could be so bonded, sharing the most important moments of life ... I could not imagine life without them. I thought it so cruel for people to insist we stop our "unholy alliance." It came down to an intervention. Family, friends, insisted, desperate to make me grow up, to stand on my own two feet. They were terrified I would always need my friends, never bond with others in meaningful ways, so ... we were split apart - forced! I cried a lot. I thought I could not go on.
Somehow I did eventually .... and years have passed. I last saw one of them living in an old garage amongst the rags and old oil cans ... I could not believe what had become of him ...
When the other one was ripped from me she was carried away by my parents ... I could hear her calling my name as the car drove away and my mother held me tight and told me it was for my own good.... I thought I would die. I have no idea what happened to her after that day. I never saw her again.
I was 23 at the time ....
I really miss my blanky and my sucky.
EARRINGS AND PURSE: GF
JACKET: UK Couture
BOOTS: Baby Monkey
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
When we go to the Mother-in-laws she is always fussing over hubby ... making him all the food he likes and blah blah blah...
And she will make him a cake and give him the beaters to lick and he always goes out into the garden to do it so "the kids won't see him" and so he can have them all to himself.
I usually think to myself that these teaching moments are golden ... men need to learn to communicate more effectively .. to say what they really mean. So I like to blindfold the kids, twirl them around three times and open the screen door for them telling them that their dad is in the garden licking the beaters nan gave him ...
"don't let the kids know," is much different than "don't let the kids see."
HAIR: Hair Influence
EARRINGS: Ticky Tacky
OUTFIT: Lestat Reuven
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
How come men never remember things? It is like they are born, they are such cute little boys and then they become teenagers and they are sort of on autopilot.
I think this is the cause of so many of their difficulties. A woman remembers each and every time she has had sex, men are like goldfish and they forget .....immediately..... which accounts for the overdrive gear in their sexmobiles .. has nothing to do with hormones. It also accounts for why they make so much up about their sex lives in the locker rooms with the guys .. they can't remember that a woman has not looked at them in years.
This is why they have to do all those replays with sports, and then show the game, and then go over the game, and analyze it and then recap with the sports on the nightly news .. to help men remember what happened.
I think they drink so much for the same reason .. they forget they just had one ....
Which just reinforces the need to have all men equipped with a remote controlled talking cattle prod ... so once the wife knows they are supposed to be in the grocery store getting milk she can zap them and say "MILK!!" I think it would save marriages ... and is much more humanitarian than the old alternative which is the one where the wife gets in the SUV and drives over her husband ...
HAIR - Tukinowaguma
Monday, February 21, 2011
Ok this is a public service announcement … those little bottles of soap and bubble blowers at the wedding?
DO: Open them up and gently blow bubbles at the Bride and Groom as they walk by.
DON'T: get together with 500 of your nearest and dearest wedding guests, pretend you lost yours, ask for theirs, empty all the bottles onto the lovely white plastic runner on the lawn leading to the wedding arch before the wedding starts. AND if you do, NEVER be the one standing there in your swimming togs with Binky the life saving duck wrapped around your waist and your water wings on. NEVER mistake the screams and whoops and shrieks of a bridal party as meaning "YAHOOO this is SOOO much fun, come and join us" because the screams and whoops and shrieks of "Someone grab Bliss we are going to kill her!" are almost identical and while one is definitely an invitation the other is a strict warning and you should run .. in fact you should move away for about 20 years or at least until the bride and groom get divorced.
I can't tell you how I know this and the fact there are no pictures of Aunt Joans wedding from the weekend has nothing to do with anything .. stop jumping to ridiculous conclusions.
JEWELLERY: Fresh Baked Goods (no longer available)
BOOTS: Baby Monkey
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)
Saturday, February 19, 2011
I think that we don't get to wear our evening gowns enough and so I am spearheading a campaign to prove to everyone that evening gowns are not just for balls, New Years Eve, and Beauty Pageants anymore. And sparkle .. sparkle goes with everything and should!!
Like imagine if as soon as you got out of the operating room they dressed you in a stunning off the shoulders gown that plumped up your breasts and had a slit up to here (why do we need a slit up the back anyway ... I don't get naked when I use the bathroom at home? Half the time you are catheritized anyway ....A slit up the leg will suffice.) A nice hair do, professional make-up job ....and sparkles all over you....
I mean it might be a bit tough getting the girdle on over all that surgery and everything but no pain, no gain ....and in case you think this is about some cheap, self serving, women are shallow and all they care about is their looks stuff .. think again Buster .. and all the rest of you too .. think again ...
I am doing this for humanitarian reasons. I have become so concerned about the lack of care and empathy amongst our doctors and nurses and I have a theory that they have become so inbred it is now a genetic defect. Everyone knows that doctor and nurses cavort in the supply closets and examining rooms all the time (see General Hospital for details). Introducing patients into that gene pool can only help .... and no matter what women are doing, laying in bed, recovering from surgery .. doing a doctor in the closet ... they should and CAN - always - look stunning!!!
Friday, February 18, 2011
People like to play "he loves me," "he loves me not," where you pick the petals off a flower repeating one phrase and then the other in a sort of whimsical attempt to discern ones romantic fate.
Some people like to stack the odds by saying instead, "he loves me," "he loves me lots," which is frankly .. cheating ...and cheapens the whole thing ...
Like it isn't cheap enough already for the poor flower. I'd like someone to explain the "whimsy" part to the poor innocent daisy, cause either way, at the end of it, the flower has been cruelly abused and its days of weddings and hair crowns are done. The poor thing is bald, and will soon be dead. It will probably be taunted and called "stick boy" by all its flower friends who will laugh at its nakedness .... its scrawny, undefinded greenness ... as it sits there on the ground. Cause no-one takes that stick home after they are done .. especially if it ended on "he loves me not." Nooo ... that's when most people go and get another flower to abuse.
How would you like it if someone pulled out all the hairs on your head with the same game?
It just reinforces what I have always said ... love is torture ...and flowers incite madness.
Why is that? Why are we always compared to cats ... I mean I don't even like mice. I don't know many women who do?
I am not fluffy, I don't lick myself, I don't use a litter box. I have never had 8 babies at once.
One more stupid conclusion that our grandparents came to that probably had a lot more to do with the fact you could buy cocaine over the counter than any real thought process. Do enough Coke and hey women are like ..... ummm ..... crocodiles!!! Cause a woman can carry everything in a crocodile purse and a crocodile can carry a woman and her purse in him ...same same ...
Pass the coke please ....
SKIN: Fhang Candy
HAIR: Analog Dog
SHOES: Baby Monkey
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Contrary to the image of people sitting in their parent's basement in dirty underwear ... I am the opposite. I arrive to my office in the front part of the house with large windows dressed to kill.... because ... I am likely to do that ... kill ... I am not afraid .. if the situation calls for it.
I open the window so the neighbours can see me as they jog by and I have a Kleenex box that I glue-gunned knobs onto - on my desk. I wait for the neighbours to come by and then I have a siren simulator that I push and it was funny the first couple of times cause they jumped into the bushes - it scared them - and sounded like an ambulance was right there. When they got up they looked they saw me leaning forward, throwing my fox tail over my shoulder and saying to my kleenex box ... "Send in the first appointment please."
I have one of the kids open the door and hubby comes in ... even though he is in shorts, hair dishevelled and coffee in hand.... he sits down at the other computer and I say things like ... "take a letter for me please," and "hold all my calls for today" really loud so that they can't hear him swearing at me.
I made my mother in law wait an hour one time to come in and ask if we had any extra toilet paper. I think it is important to establish authority ... and it really is in the way you dress .. power dressing. It is much safer than my old way of taking control .. cause stun guns sometimes backfire.
EARRINGS: Donna Flora
OUTFIT: Donna Flora
SHOES: Baby Monkey
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
One day when I was finished the very important job of cutting the rhubarb .. alone ..way out at the other end of the yard (we lived on over 3 sections of land) and I started complaining about being bored my grandmother suggested I make clothes out of the leaves and flowers and such. I had visions of a dress just like this one.
Of course once she saw me setting up the sewing machine she quickly pointed out that would ruin the purity of the concept and showed me how little twigs could hold the leaves together and I could entwine the other things .... at 4 purity of concept was everything to me....
SO I made my outfit and was standing there in the yard thinking I must be stunning ....
more pics here ...
And my brother came over with the garden tractor and tried to "mow" me. His excuse was he couldn't hear me screaming above the "roar" of the tractor engine ....and that what kind of a stupid idiot would wander around in camouflage in an unmowed lawn.
I couldn't get the rhubarb leaves and flowers off so I just stood in the middle of the lawn with tractor marks on my face, wilted green leaves, bugs crawling on me and a huge spreading rash and did what any red blooded woman in my position would do .... I screamed.
I have never liked green since ... or my brother ... not necessarily in that order ...
DRESS: Vita's Boudoir
SHOES: Apple May Designs
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
I am frequently disappointed by the Police.
I mean when it takes twenty of them, with their cars, their flack jackets, their numerous weapons which include an array of guns, to take out one depressed teenager with a remote control in his hand ... having to shoot him several times to protect the innocent ... which normally refers to children but in this instance, this child was not included in the group due to the technicality that he was upset and did not want to come out of his house and someone thought they saw a gun and he said some bad things when we was pissed off with everyone ... you know right after his dad died, and his mom remarried, his girlfriend dumped him and he did not make the football team. So excluding his innocence and childhood and focusing only on those innocents and childhoods protected in this shooting ....I have to say I am disappointed and not at all confident to their ability to deal with rapists, murderers and gangs.
I mean what if the kid had been able to change channels before they shot him .. that would have been a real disaster ...
However I would like to point out that the time to talk to the police about your disappointment is probably not when they show up at your door with 20 of their closest friends to take you downtown. That is when you focus on buying tickets to the policemen's ball and handing them the remote control to watch whatever they want ....
OUTFIT, HAT AND BOOTS: B@R
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentines day was always drama in the making. First you had the prissy girls who always showed up with their plates of heart shaped cookies, iced and decorated. Those little suck ups were already preening for a life long love affair with the process and I am positive that an active cell of them are working in SL as we speak. They would smile and hand the teacher the biggest one with their name "icinged" on and then special ones to the boy I liked and the girl who insisted everyone kiss her ring out by the slides before coming in at recess. Don't get me wrong, ya I saw through it all, ... but I ate my cookie even though it did not have the really nifty sparkles and my name was always spelled wrong ... I was not stupid.
Then came humiliation as the teacher handed out the valentines ..... "248 for you Allison Suck-up .. oh and look Bliss ... I think I can find one .. oh yes .. and here is one for you .. from me ..."
"Don't patronize me Miss Blainey... I may be only 5 but that smile diminishes me .... and sadly ... you!"
Finally one teacher seemed to understand and she insisted that there not be one big mailbox to put the valentines in, but each our own ... so no-one knew how many we each got and we could take them home and open them and cry ourselves to sleep in the comfort of our own beds.
more pics here...
Years later the teachers insist that each child must provide a valentine for every child in the class. I thought, hmmm .. that is nice .. but children are brilliant! There is always a really ugly valentine in the book or the box ... the least liked child gets all of those .. or everyone gets homemade beauty and the unliked child gets a brown paper bag valentine. And then the child who has Valentines that says "Jesus loves you" and shows lovely little bible scenes is tarred and featherd for spewing love around. Let's be clear Valentines Day is for love .. not some religious crap from some guy who thought we should all be treated as equals. We like our love segmented neatly into ... "lots of valentines" and "0 valentines." Don't mess with tradition man.
HAIR: Analog Dog
DRESS: The Sea Hole
LEGGINGS: Mikanx Bosatsu
CHOKER: Pinky Gals
EARRINGS: Ear Candy
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I have to admit that Paris was forever ruined for me by the thoughtless actions of someone on the prairies of Canada who traumatized a child.
There I was playing dress-up, searching the drawers of the bureaus in the guest rooms when I found a little nub of red lipstick, a fancy little purse, and a dark blue bottle with a gold cap and writing across it ... "Evening in Paris." WOW french stuff ... in red neck prairie land .. back then ....when ethnic groups and cultures were still kept neatly packed and parked in the middle of wide open spaces with lots of no-man's land between them and the next group.
I quickly ran to my bedroom to share my score with my brother who was waiting for me with his fabulous skirt-on-head hair and his evening gown falling off his shoulders (grandpa had the best gowns). I applied his lipstick, and then mine ... a little extra on both our chins and teeth .. and we were smoking hot.
Then I pulled out the perfume, hands shaking as I popped the top off and held the perfume to my wrist and turned the bottle over. We looked at each other, holding our breath (which in hindsight probably saved us) and then the other wrist and then I grabbed his wrists and did the same. I then instructed him to take some on his finger ... (I waited for him) and dab it behind his ears ... that's the last thing I remember until we both woke up. There we lay in a crumpled heap in our crinolines and skirt-hair, lipstick all over the place, definitely green and stinking to high heaven ... behold the rancid perfume ....
We were sick for a couple of days ... I don't know what happened to the perfume except I do know my brother was fond of creating stink bombs and some of the cows were found mysteriously upside down in the field, having died from choking .. they said it was as if they had been exposed to tear gas ....
My brother perpetuate the story of UFO's ... but when he finally looked me in the eyes we both knew ... it was the French connection ....
DRESS: Spirit Store
JEWELLERY: U&R Dogs
SHOES: Stiletto Moody
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I was a tom boy pretty much most of my life .. but one who scrubbed up good. I was the girl who could do sports better than most of the boys .. throw a football like a guy, intercept like crazy ....put the worm on the hook and catch the most fish .... that was me.
I only did it to annoy my brother.
And to be able to date all his friends. You could say I wormed my way into their hearts ... hahahahahha that is sooooo funny .. read it again .. see??
SKIN: Glam Affair
JEANS: Spirit Store
HAIR CORSAGE: AtomicBambi
POSES: Niqotine (no longer available)