Tag Archives: class

Superbowl, Drinking, and dancing

On Sunday I went to a Superbowl party at the Wisconsin museum created by the guy from Neenah I met at Nonprofit Commons on Friday. One of the guys there is a substance abuse counselor. I asked if there was an Alcoholics Anonymous in Second Life. He gave me a notecard, which I passed along to Jazzy.

Jazzy asked why I sent it. I told him I had heard about the griefing alts. He said it wasn’t him. Sure it wasn’t.

I asked Bogeyman what had happened. “He said we were clowns running a circus,” Bogeyman said.

“Well, the circus part is right,” I responded.

I attended a dance class in Learn Avatar. Basically, it was for newbies to show them how to use dance balls at clubs and parties. I went to stir trouble.

As class was starting, I scrounged through my inventory and found some female shapes, skin, hair, and turned into a woman. There was an awful Bollywood costume in the standard library I tried on, but decided on a pink latex whore outfit that I had won in a midnight madness board contest. Still, it was less whorish than most of the outfits women wear in Second Life. It covered my lady breasts.

I hopped on a pose ball and started dancing. “Who wants to dance with me?” I asked.

Nobody. So still wearing my pink whore outfit, I changed back to a man. Then Katie danced with me, or more like through me. “We don’t fit well together,” I said.

“Definitely not personality-wise,” she said.

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I got mugged in Second Life

I taught a mug reengineering class today. We took apart a coffee mug and resized each of the geometric pieces that made up the mug. Then the advanced students stuck around to mess with the script parameters that created the steam.

Of course, the mug was a BudgetJustified.com mug. And I had a movie set out, along with my picket sign showing the DVD cover of Budget Justified. Nobody complained. Hey, I was the teacher. And while we were messing with the steam script, I took out the sign with the script that invites people to join the BudgetJustified.com group.

Someone in the class made their giant mug 5 meters in diameter instead of the .5 meters I had recommended. It swallowed the entire class.

“We’re getting mugged,” Dragon said.

Left brained fingers

I popped into a class that I had no idea what it was supposed to be about. The title on the class announcement was ‘3D sketching.’ Then the instructor arrived and, although I believe that her native language was English, she said in broken English that the goal was to “renew our inner self through building.”

“What’s this Inner Self stuff?” I asked.

“It’s building from the heart without letting the left brain interfere,” one of the other attendees said.

“The spontaneous builder in you,” the instructor said.

“I can be spontaneous,” I explained, “but it’s not because of my heart.”

“Is it your head?” the instructor asked.

“Fingers,” I said.

While I waited to figure out what the class was about, I created pants that were made out of a sculpty file. Sculpties are graphics files that contain data for creating a shape out of a prim. If you open them, they look rainbow colored. When you put them on pants, you get tie dye. Then I created a shirt out of a graphic file of a page of a technical paper.

Jak was running around all over the sandbox while we chatted. Someone told him to settle down. “Just get to the damn lesson,” Jak said. Then someone else told him to be patient.

“All this heart crap is tiring,” Jak responded.

Another student told Jak to stop complaining and one woman said we should mute Jak. Then Bogeyman showed up. The rest of the class decided to leave and hold class elsewhere.

I started to follow them, but then Bogeyman sent me a private message asking what happened. So I chatted with Bogeyman and Jak for awhile. I said I didn’t think Jak was any more disruptive than anyone else in the class had been.

Jak said that he had about thirty alts. He keeps having to create a new one because people keep getting mad at him. I looked at his profile and saw that he belonged to a hobo group. I asked him if lives in California. He does. “Do you have an alt named Jack?” I asked. He wouldn’t admit to it.

I asked if he used to live in Noobieville, if he used to have a hobo girlfriend named Crystal, if he had been friends with Scott Zuzu. He denied it all. But when I saw him the next day, he admitted that he was indeed Jack Frenzy.

Jak mentioned that he had met Heather at a club a while ago. He said that she was one of the better DJs, with a good microphone and selection of music.

“Where’s Heather?” I asked.

“She disappeared from Second Life about two months ago,” Bogeyman said.

“WHAT?” Turns out that Heather decided to get back with her husband in real life. I looked at her profile. It still says that she and Bogeyman got married in Second Live Vegas and that she loves him so much. I wonder if she’s wandering around as an alt now.

After Jak left, Bogeyman asked me, “So you’re single in real life?”

“Pretty much,” I responded. But this wasn’t about my love life. It was about Bogeyman and I didn’t want to talk about me.

Maybe Bogeyman didn’t want to talk about himself anymore either. I was in private chat with Chrissy, so I teleported her over to hang out with us.

Still wearing my paper shirt and tie dyed pants, I asked Chrissy, “How do you like my outfit?”

She asked if I wanted the truth. “No,” I replied.

“I love it!”

Quit touching me

I went to gazebo building class in my neighborhood. The gazebos were too big and we kept overlapping each other. I went back to my land and built a smaller one.

Looks like Kandy, Carl’s ex, has already found a new boyfriend. They were in class together and they were having their picture taken with Bryce, who is Kandy’s Second Life son. Kandy lives next door to me. Carl told me to keep an eye on her.

I asked Carl about Bunny. He said she was very very nice. But I don’t see her online very often.

I went to a menu scripting class at the Builders Brewery. That was a very good class. I went beyond the lesson by putting if else statements in my script.

The script was designed to pop up a blue menu when you touched an object. The menu said, “You touched me.” Deyariana, the woman sitting next to me, changed her script a little. “Mine says ‘Stop touching me’,” she said.

“It’s rude to touch people,” someone said.

“I touched Garrett,” I said.

“You touch people, and you’ll lose some limbs,” he replied.

“I figured if I touched Deyariana, she’d remove my limbs,” I said.

Chrissy, whom I had met on Bogeyman’s patio a couple of weeks ago, said hi to me while I was in class. I told her I was learning about scripting menus. “I don’t even know what that means,” she said. “All I know how to do in Second Life is shop.”

I told her that I was going to make a dancing bed. “There are already enough sex beds in Second Life.”