I thought I'd try my hand at a journal for no reason at all. Either way I decided that on Secondlife I'd try my hand at modding my character at a sandboxes. I never liked uses sandboxes. It was a late into the morning and I just wanted to work on some last minute touches on my avatar.

Apparently some of the residents decided to bad mouth my character over the mic. What they come to Secondlife is not my business and I'd appreciate if they'd leave my avatar and it's body out of there fantasies.

There is nothing wrong with being pink and I could never troll. On the other hand I didn't mind the comment about my eyes.

I not sure if I'm butcher her name but I glad at least Vixxus wasn't one to judge

It was this particular friday that I found myself bored out of my mind. With almost a hour and a half time to kill before Nerf Wars would be held at Ann Arundel, the building the club reserved just for the game. I find boredom unbearable. I needed something to do until then, or I'd probably go off my rocker.

I decided to wonder around the library, to the third floor, and around winding corridors and building bridges. I happened upon a most invaluable discovery. A Scanner, deep within the boules of a dead end recess room. It was there just awaiting me to discover it. Time seemed to melt away as I scanned the good majority of my art. With barely twenty minutes to go I was off to wage ware with Scottish kiltsmen, man with stitch hats, and foam bullets.

Yah for aimless wondering!