2nd Life: A CyBeautiful Waste of Time
For some reason I decided to try out 2nd Life today. I started an account years ago, but the piece of crap PC I had at the time couldn’t support the program. I happened to be going through an old hotmail account and found the login and password to my 2nd Life. My avatar’s name is Cybrina Citron. Cybrina is a pretty accurate nickname since if it were at all possible to have my Mac embedded into my forearm, I would definitely have figured it out (we’re still testing hypotheses).
At any rate, my experience with 2nd life was definitely interesting. The simplest things took me a very long time to figure out, while seemingly complex tasks were no problem. For instance, I was immediately able to fly while I couldn’t figure out how to put on new clothes. Then when I did, I didn’t realize you have to take clothes off first so I ended up with two complete outfits on at first.
Trying on clothes was a complete debacle; you do this by choosing the image. I attempted to change clothes and the next thing I knew, the image had sliced through my avatar. Basically, it looked like someone had smashed a billboard over my head and was stuck around my waist. Someone came over that “worked” there and explained that bad programs were to blame. She told me how to remove the item and try other on others. I successfully removed a hideous dress that had been plaguing me since my arrival.
Then I transported myself to different exotic and beautiful islands that were practically deserted (pun intended). People on those islands didn’t really want to seem to talk much. However, one was very helpful and let me know how to look at myself since I still wasn’t sure how my avatar looked: in changing my clothes, I inadvertently removed my eyes and eyebrows and I didn’t know if I had been successful in replacing them.
I found everyone there was extremely helpful and polite. The only problem was, I didn’t know what I was doing there. I had no real purpose. One can find places to “dance”, “play pool”, even “have sex”. But what’s the point of all of this? Why is it more fun to play pool virtually and not in real life? It’s not; especially since I couldn’t figure out how to do it! And what could the benefit be of having sex virtually (unless you can’t get any realistically)? People clearly spend tons of time and REAL money on their avatars, accessories, furnishings, etc. I even browsed bedroom sets. I said to someone else who had just gotten there, why would you want to buy a bedroom set on 2nd life? His response: “to sleep”.
$@bs
PS. Click here to read guest blog posts about some of $@bs’ $ordid $excapades!
HoBag’s Remorse: A Diagnosis and Cure
Many of my gentlemen readers may not be able to relate to today’s posting. If you DO have a Y chromosome and you CAN relate, I’d love to hear about it.
DIAGNOSIS: HoBag’s Remorse can be defined as a hearty feeling of regret you wake up with due to having slept with someone. The regret can be as a result of many reasons, but is usually because the person is:
1. Fat, ugly or just plain disgusting and you were drunk/drugged
2. Married or already has a significant other
3. Has not bothered to contact you after the encounter
CURE: Like heartbreak, the only real cure for Hobag’s Remorse is time. Unfortunately, sleeping with someone else directly after contracting HoBag’s Remorse seems to only exacerbate the symptoms: mainly feeling like a two-bit whore.
If you have to see the person from whom you contracted HR, the best thing you can do is pretend that nothing happened. This strategy is known as “acting as if”. Act as if nothing untoward happened between you, act as if you enjoyed it, act as if you’d do it again; anything you have to do to get through dealing with “the dreaded”.
The important thing to remember is that even the nastiest cases of HR usually subside within a few days. Don’t be too hard on yourself; we all make mistakes. If the mistake can result in an even larger one, RUN, don’t walk, to your nearest pharmacy and get yourself some Plan B. Plan A, BTW, would have been not sleeping with the louse in the first place. This posting is dedicated to one of my favorite women on earth; this too shall pass!
PS. if you want to read more about my sordid sexcapades, click here for my guest blog posting.
$@bs
Plan B and Plan A(wkward)
My friend took this picture while on vacation and I HAD to post it. I have an even better story to go with it:
I was meeting a friend at a clinic to take her home after terminating an unwanted pregnancy. The waiting area was pretty full when I arrived so it took me a moment to find my friend. I finally spotted her and took a seat beside her.
I then tried to entertain her with zany antics so as to take away from the horror of our surroundings. I was in the middle of Act I when I looked up and noticed a man sitting no more than two feet from us. I thought he was pretty cute and there was something familiar about him. After another second I realized it was someone I used to date. He looked up at just that moment and we made eye contact. AWKWARD. We said hello but not much else.
He was obviously there having impregnated someone and was waiting for her to return from the procedure. I thanked God that I wasn’t there for my own appointment. Soon my friend’s name was called and we were left with the uncomfortable task of sitting there, practically next to each other. Pleasant conversation was altogether impossible; we tried to avoid eye contact. Soon I busied myself with a book and nodded off. When I awoke, much to my relief he had left.
$@bs
Last night I had the misfortune of going to see a comedy troupe perform. The only reason I agreed was because the friend that dragged me there lured me with the promise of dinner. Faced with the temptation of free food, I was defenseless. Yet, I don’t know why I succumbed to this since, having been in a comedy troupe myself, I know how dull they can be. The group I was in was two gays and two girls, we were all pretty dysfunctional and the “comedy” consisted mostly of inside jokes no one else ever got. Somehow we occasionally provoked a laugh, but mostly I thought it was pretty masturbatory.
Rehearsals were 
extremely chaotic and unnecessarily dramatic; I remember throwing a chair once, over what I couldn’t tell you. Here’s a pic of the old crew in “Alien Soap” from our show “Something Vulgar This Way Comes“. I’m the alien bride.
Last night I don’t think I made it through 20 mins. of the show before I was snoozing away, albeit uncomfortably. When I opened my eyes, I noticed the man sitting next to me also fast asleep. The ticket into this napfest was $15. The only possible excuse for participating in this is in support of a friend in the cast; which my friend had. I, on the other hand, did not, and so I went back to sleep until the end of the performance. Afterwards, it was proposed that we go dancing; laughable because my mind was then set on getting horizontal immediately. Suffice it to say, I went home.
One would think that on an island so insanely packed with everything else, tasty frozen yogurt would be easy to come by, yet recent developments have caused concerns about accessing quality fro-yo; at least for me. I’m a longstanding fan of the treat since the TCBY and Everything Yogurt days, good brands both. I haven’t seen a TCBY in years for the exception of rest stops. Everything Yogurt actually became Bananas and I’ve never seen one of those.
Instead, I have seen a few new frozen yogurt establishments pop up whose products I’ve sampled and been disheartened. A place near where I used to work sold Yolato. I swear I am not lying when I say it tasted exactly like Lemon Pledge. Not that I eat Lemon Pledge… but when I used to, it could have passed for the product Yolato claims is frozen yogurt. I was disappointed to say the least.
Some friends recommended other places I should try, namely Pinkberry and Red Mango. There happens to be one of each adjacent to each other on 14th St. and 6th Ave., so one day I decided to check them both out. First I stopped at Red Mango; a friend had recently raved about the place. I never purchase without sampling and though it was definitely better than the Lemon Pledge, I didn’t like it enough to buy any. I moved on.
I had heard and read a lot about Pinkberry, and as I approached the counter I felt pretty confident I was going to leave with some frozen yogurt and ordered a sample of vanilla; but I just didn’t like it. One particular brand that I do like that no one else seems to is Smoochies. Then too, sometimes you can still find the ol’ Columbo standby at a deli or salad bar. Needless to say, the quest goes on – to be continued…
Last night I went to that monthly dinner club; it was supposed to have taken place last Thursday, but too many of the girls couldn’t make it. As I mentioned previously, everyone brings a dish and there is always a central theme around what to make, ala Iron Chef. The theme for this past dinner was to have been St. Patrick’s Day, which we obviously missed. Then someone suggested making something in honor of the vernal equinox; the first day of spring. We split it 50/50 and celebrated “Irish Spring.”
I still made the Irish Soda Bread, which went over famously! I normally add raisins to the recipe, but was informed that one of the ladies is allergic to dried fruits, so I had to withhold 
them. As it turns out, I later discovered that Irish Soda Bread with raisins is actually known as “dick-in-a-box” or “spotted dick”, much to my delight. Imagine my double disappointment at having to exclude raisins once I found that out!
In other news, it was confirmed that the Twitter account thought to be maintained by Christopher Walken, which has over 85,000 followers, is actually not the beloved star. I was saddened to hear this since I had 
checked out updates to this account regularly (I don’t believe in following celebrity tweeples) for a laugh and was never disappointed. After reading an article discussing the issue, I’ve been wondering if this new information will affect CWalken’s followers. It’s also forced me to consider whether the true author may be part eggplant.
$@bs
I’m Nacho Bitch: Latin Cuisine Ripoffs
With a Puerto Rican for a mother, I know just how cheap and easy it is to make a plate of rice and beans. This tasty bad boy, in addition to quesadillas, nachos, et al, are extremely gentle on the wallet to create. This said, if I’m going to eat at an ethnic establishment of this sort, it’s got to be either entirely out of my range of culinary expertise or else mad cheap. My intelligence is insulted when someone tries to charge me $20 for friggin’ tacos!
I do a serious taco salad that includes home made re-fried beans and guacamole, jícama, and fresh cilantro. (If you’ve never had jícama, it’s kind of a cross between a potato and an apple.) It’s difficult for me to enjoy this cuisine when dining out since I can hook it up myself in such phatty stupid style. The only place I make an exception to spending more than I think I need to on beans and cheese is Blockheads. With such fine $4 margaritas, it’s completely worth it! I also enjoy Chipotle, but even $8 for tacos seems a bit out of hand. Yea, I know the meat is antibiotic free, but I generally opt for the veg tacos, so that doesn’t help me.
The dishes I WILL splurge on in this category include Paella, and pretty much anything from Dos Caminos! I’ve heard good things about Rosa Mexicano, at which I’ve dined, but for some reason the experience was completely unmemorable… and I wasn’t even (that) drunk. Have you been?
$@bs
When Good Classics Go Bad
I happened to be watching Cartoon Network this morning and was suprised to see the remake of the “Josie and the Pussycats” theme song, which was extremely upsetting. Luckily some things are still sacred and no one has tried to remake this classic Hanna-Barbera cartoon yet, but it got me to thinking about how some things are just better left untouched, like Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, The Fly, or Sabrina. Seriously how are you going to compete against Gene Wilder? The very idea is even presumptuous! Often I wonder who and how it was decided to remake these films, while others go completely unscathed, like Gone With the Wind. I’m really surprised that Hollywood has not tried to redo that classic story starring Beyonce as Scarlet O’Hara and George Clooney as Rhett Butler… (Hang on, we may be on to something! If we can get Queen Latifah to play Mammy, let’s set up a meeting…)
Then there’s the passive-aggressive approach; the bad sequel. Films that fall into this category include The Karate Kid II, Coccoon II, and though some may disagree, Back to 
the Future II. Basically any movie that ends with the roman numberal ‘II’ is suspect in my book (except Grease II, aka “Son of Grease,” which will always be amazing). I have a friend who maintains that any sequel ending with ‘II’ should also contain the subtitle “Electric Boogaloo” in honor of Breakin II. I must say I concur. Would love to hear from you with regard to classics that bombed or other sequels that never should have come to be.
Back in the home skillet of NYC. My trip to Chicago was wonderfully quiet. I picked a hotel in the middle of nowhere so as to avoid people; I didn’t want to risk running into the paparazzi and all! Twas quite enjoyable getting away from the masses. There are far too many people here for my taste and in all honesty, I’m rather sick of ‘em all up in my snuffaluffagus everywhere I turn. Time for the Sabs to 23 skidoo? Perchance to dream…
On a completely unrelated topic, I’ve been increasingly interested in the Subway/Quiznos showdown. Who hasn’t suffered from the Subway’s $5 foot long jingle ear worm? Impossible to exterminate! 
Subway is the recognized leader in this market and Quiznos’ attempt to stake claim on a piece o’ that market share pie is a coy lil’ marketing campaign promoting their Toasty Torpedo, “12 inches of flavor” promised by a smoky-voiced toaster that asks a chef to “Put it in me.”
This is a little too close to when George Costanza tried to mix food and sex and “flew too close to the sun on wings of pastrami“, “combining food and sex into one disgusting uncontrollable urge”… Hotness.
$@bs
Chicagsies and Austrian Incest
Here I am in Chicago, just visiting the BF since he graduated from Naval Seal boot-camp this week. Congrats, Baby! He had to report to base this evening and I’m headed back to NYC tomorrow. Left to my own device, naturally I turn back to my eLife. I’m sorry I missed you yesterday, but I thought about you all day! Just had dinner at the hotel bar all by my lonesome. Luckily they had my other BF employed- the high def TV!
I happened to catch coverage of a story that still gives me nightmares: the Austrian man who drugged his teenage daughter, dragged her to the basement and kept her as his sex slave for 24 years without heat, hot water, fresh air or sunlight, siring 7 children with her (insert vomit here). Talk about www.sickfuck.com/gethelp. Can you imagine having to defend this guy??? You would go directly to hell, would not pass go, and would not collect $200.
He was caught after one of his children/grandchildren was hospitalized for multiple organ failure due to cramping and her mother/sister, hid a note inside her clothing which blew the whole disgusting case wide open. He was charged with sexual assault and murder. Apparently, the crazoid maintained that one of the children he fathered with his daughter was a stillborn and he burnt the body in the house furnace. I can’t go on it’s so inhuman. There has been so much press coverage, I can’t even decide which link to add here to access the full story! Just google it and you’ll find plenty…
$@bs
