Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts

Friday, October 15, 2010

A Bimbo's Viewpoint on the highly charged 'Blonde Marriage' debate

Linda Strawberry outlines her viewpoint on the controversial subject of blonde marriage that has recently taken hold of the public discourse.

I believe that if we let people with Blonde hair get married it will cheapen the value of our non-blonde marriages. I define marriage to be between two non-blonde people. But don’t call me blonde-aphobic. I have a friend or two with blonde hair. I sometimes watch shows with people with blonde hair like Ellen. I just don’t think blonde haired marriages are moral
.

Many of you may be surprised to find out that I agree wholeheartedly with this viewpoint. Civil unions are more than enough, marriage is a religious institution and should be kept out of civil law entirely. I don't care what dark-haired people get up to in their religious enclaves, but the Constitution firmly guarantees a separation of Church and State. Let's keep it that way.

It's only because the dark-haired people controlled the early State that marriage and public law became so co-mingled. I know I'm a bit out there in my belief about this, but between the dark-haired people's desire to enshrine marriage in law and the deluded blonde's desire to mimic the poor dark-haired people who have been in control of the entire framework of society for too long, I think they are both fighting for the wrong thing.

I believe marriage should be removed from civil law entirely and not pollute it. Justices of the peace should only be able to perform civil unions for blondes and non-blondes alike and priests and the religious can have their marriages to themselves. I think it's a pity that so many blondes wish to ape their dark-haired counterparts, relinquishing their position as the people who push the boundaries of culture, breaking the molds of intolerance built into our society by the emotionally crippled dark-haired. We blondes embrace diversity and are accepting of all, regardless of their hair-color and fashion-sense.

This will serve both blondes and non-blondes admirably. The dark-haired and their regressive churches that refuse to marry blondes can keep to themselves, the churches that celebrate hair-color rights and diversity and allow them to marry may choose to do so, and everyone wins when old fashioned religious notions are removed from ensconcement in civil law.

Seeking marriage for all is a vane attempt by the blondes to achieve "equality" with the dark-haired people when, in fact, they are superior in every way. I call upon the other blondes to shake off the shackles of cultural convention and leave the dark-haired people and their quaint notions of marriage to molder with their rapidly obsolete non-light hair colors.

Blondes are happier, freer people when they are acting the most blonde. We lack the brooding, overly intellectualized and easily emotionally upset stereotype that haunts the dark-haired people. The poor, misbegotten people that go to ever darker haircolors with their 'Goth' and 'Emo' lifestyles and clothing especially need our acceptance. These people choose to ostracize themselves from even regular, dark-haired culture in an attempt to show their 'non-conformity' by coloring their hair black and dressing all in black like the other 'non-conformists'. They can't break away from their 'non-conformist' mold long enough to see that they have merely established another sub-culture that demands conformity to its conventions for full admittance and to be seen as 'one of them.'

Many of my friends are Goth and they have accepted me into their midst. I am truly grateful for that. They understand and appreciate oppression by the majority of the dark-haired culture, for they too have been rejected by 'mainstream' dark-hair culture. I fit in well there, they never prejudge me for not having dark-hair and all I need to do is show a bit of solidarity by wearing 'Gothy' clothing. And who doesn't enjoy 'walking on the wild-side' a little by wearing really 'out there' Goth clothing and it's taboo-pushing fetish styles. We blondes are often seen as overly sexualized and fetish ourselves.

Blondes are accepting and tolerant of many people with different hair-colors, welcoming them into our cultural refuges when we are denied entry into theirs. Our pride in our blondeness is evident with our very flamboyant Blonde Pride parades where even the dark-haired come to celebrate blondeness with us. And the acronym BDPR (Blonde, Dirty-Blonde, Platinum, and Redhead) has made it into the mainstream cultural landscape.

The poor redheads aren't mentioned much even by us, but they truly are the 'redheaded step-children' of society. Blondes have gained great cultural acceptance, able to hold hands and kiss in public for example, and many popular sitcoms now have a 'token blonde' to be the butt of stereotypical jokes. Whereas redheads are still mostly looked upon as rare 'freaks of nature'. Many comedians have dressed as redheads for a cheap laugh, but drag redhead performers like Bozo and Ronald McDonald have begun to open inroads into mainstream culture. But they are still laughed at and snickered at behind their backs as 'over the top' with their highly stylized makeup.

Only the foolishly serious, dark-haired people need marriage because that's they only way they can get regular sex - everyone wants to party and have fun with the blondes, not them. Marriage is only a trap created by the dark-haired people to capture a blonde and keep them captive so they can have regular sex with one of us. Keep the blondes free where they belong.

Even when married, the dark-haired people often sneak away from their partner to have illicit affairs with blondes. Many public figures have been caught with their pants down with blondes and their political careers have died because of it. Going so far as to hire blonde escorts or having frantic sex with a blonde in a dirty, public bathroom to avoid being seen as 'closet blonde' themselves.

So many people go through their "college blonde" phase and their "blonde-curious" stage of development, but we all know it's only a rebellion against their parents. They eventually return to their drab brunette ways, unable to cope with the blonde lifestyle and the disapproval of friends and family.

Blondes take better care of themselves, often looking and dressing better than brunettes. We dress in sexier clothes and wear better makeup than them. I fully support the metro-blonde fad with their blonde tips and highlights, their increased attention to personal hygiene, and their progressive fashion sense. Who wants to look at fat, ugly, dark-haired people anyway? This at least makes them publicly presentable. But that has it's problems, everyone thinks they are closet blondes and not as 'serious' as other dark-haired people.

Blondes define fashion and culture, often being the creators or modelers of the best and newest fashion. We are sought out to pose nude in 'blonde' magazines, which we know almost every dark-haired person has a subscription to and hides from perusal by others. Especially by their non-blonde spouses.

I deeply regret the attitudes of the conservative, religious dark-haired people who think they need to 'cure' blondes with re-education camps where they try to show us how 'unnatural' blondeness is and to brainwash us into accepting the drab, boring dark-haired lifestyle and convince us to abandon our blondeness and 'pass' amongst normal culture by dying our hair dark. Thankfully, we blondes often lack enough brains to wash.

They try to demonstrate that 'blondeness' is only a recent aberration brought about by the development of hair dyes and bleach when any person with a knowledge of history knows that blondes have been here all along.

I personally belong to the very progressive 'Blonde Bimbo' movement, with our increased emphasis on happiness and acceptance of everyone. Unhappy emotions are tiresome and unnecessary and we promote the appreciation of rainbows and butterflies as objects of true beauty.

I applaud early Bimbo pioneers such as Mae West and Marilyn Monroe who bucked the standards of their day and were open, obvious blonde bimbos paving the way for the rest of us to follow in their high-heeled footsteps. Especially Marilyn, who in the highly charged 60s Civil Rights era, made the culturally landmark 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes' movie, asserting that blondes have a place in society and that we will no longer be ignored. Her performance of 'Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend', cemented her place as one of the blonde bimbo icons, expressing what we all hold dear to our hearts - shiny, expensive, pretty things.

It is a shame that she died during that era like many other notable civil rights icons, killed by a society eager to stick with the old ways and fearful of what it would become if bimbos were allowed equality. Perhaps her dying at her peak has set her up as a martyr for the bimbo cause and a pinnacle of acceptance, happiness, and bimboness that many of us can aspire to.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

I Want A Computer Engineer Barbie!

Okay, it's been a long time since I bought a Barbie doll (maybe 6 months *blushes*), but I want this one. Even though I don't like the glasses or the shirt or the bluetooth headset or the ... You get the idea.

Computer Engineer Barbie
As everyone knows, I don't mind being called a Barbie Doll, it happens all the time, often in a derogatory attempt to make me feel bad. But it never does. I like being tall, blonde, and fashionable. I always thank people when they say it, even if they did it sotto voce or as an aside to a friend thinking I couldn't hear it.

In my previous post I think I made a convincing argument why anyone should be happy to be called Barbie. I'm a weird combo many days, I work in the technical world and dress well, wear makeup, and often have some level of heels on. And I work deep in technology, not at the periphery, able to discuss technical matters at the most geeky level. With my extensive background in science and wide range of knowledge, I often surprise people with what I know.

This is one of the first Barbies that really get into the geek world, I can't wait for 'Molecular Biologist Barbie', although I won't hold my breath for that one.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Dakota And The Dakota-ettes


Dakota And The Dakota-ettes
Originally uploaded by Tiessa
The photo I was playing with when I accidentally deleted the prior post was this one which I dub, "Dakota And The Dakota-ettes".

This weekend, I spent sometime at Paradise Lost talking to some old friends about 'the good old days' when I was new to Second Life. I looked around on my hard drive and found this picture, which captures the group of people I spent the most time with back then. In the picture are myself, the one with dark hair in red latex, Helena Kirkorian, Brianicus Quintus, and Dakota Enfield. These three people were some of my earliest friends in Second Life. In this picture, Dakota had just bought a microphone which had poses for appearing like you were singing, so we danced behind her like backup singers and took this picture.

Just about every day, we danced and talked all night long, with conversations ranging from literature (the place was called Paradise Lost how could we avoid it?), philosophy, physics, astronomy, biology, and many more things. Everything was tied together with lots of jokes all a the club created by Malachite Seattle that looked like a cathedral.

The picture is from the original club before it was moved to its own sim. It even had an altar area and main altar like a cathedral. The next chapter of the Mistress Strangelove series deals with what happened to me on that altar. Repeatedly.


Grrrr That's Annoying

I was fiddling around with some of the features of blogger and how Flickr can post pictures to it from within the Flickr interface. I made an experimental post in draft and while experimenting, I deleted the prior post instead of the experimental post. That'll teach me to flip back and forth in between tabs and pay close enough attention.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled silence...

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Terrible Twos

I just received a RezDay present from Veyron, I got the notification in email. I'd completely forgotten about my RezDay since I've been largely absent from SL for many months now. RL reared it's ugly head and made my year pretty hard so far. I've been in 'survival mode' for a while now, which largely means an absence of fun and free time. I just turned three today, which means that my 'Terrible Twos' are over. Yay! I thought I was supposed to be inflicting myself on others, not the other way around.

However, I'm putting my life back into a semblance of order and I'm determined to restore the fun and energy to my life that's been sorely missing. That may or may not mean a larger amount of time in SL, blogging, and the other things I remember having so much fun doing. I feel pretty shattered by RL at the moment, but I can see blue horizons in front of me and I'm heading towards them.

Here's the present she gave me. She always did like to see me mostly naked :)

Monday, October 13, 2008

I'm Entering My Terrible Twos

Today, October 13th, 2008, is my second Rez-Day. Last year, my first Rez-Day passed without a post - I was in the middle of a two month hiatus in posting, it was a pretty down point in my life. However, things are looking better and better all of the time, I'm having a lot of fun building in Second Life, writing a bunch of scripts, and in general enjoying myself. When I started, I never would have guessed two years ago at all of the people I'd meet, the fun I'd have, the good times, and the sad times. I can hardly wait to see what will happen in the next two.

It's time for my 'terrible twos'. I pity you all, you thought I was bad before, I'm just beginning .

Friday, October 10, 2008

You Know It's Been A Good Night When The Police Get Involved...

Earlier this evening, I Plurked that I was going dancing this evening. I normally don't talk about real life, the last major post was when I was a real life neko exploring dirty talk in the back of a car. But, I'd like to give you another little glimpse into my real life and why I like policemen.

I went to my usual dance club, the bouncers know me, the bartenders know me and serve me my favorite drinks (without charge), and the DJs know me, playing my favorite music. I'm there about once a week. I go dancing, not to hook up but to dance, a fact that many men seem to not grasp. I frequently close out the club, dancing all night until they throw me out pouting.

Often, especially towards the end of the night, men become desperate and attempt to hit on everyone or anyone, hoping to get lucky. A usual night for me involves fending off 10-15 guys who won't take 'no' for an answer. Most guys who hit on me are fine with me saying 'no' and they go their way, the dozen or so each night that persist too far - grab me, grope me, forcibly kiss me, grab my hand and won't let go, grab my hand and put it on their dick (both outside and inside of their pants), show me their dick, tell me about how big there dick is and all the women they've had sex with, attempt to 'dirty dance' with me, and all manner of behavior that I'd normally associate with ill-mannered baboons.

Just because I gyrate my hips when I dance, that is not a license to expect sex from me. Speaking of licenses...

One guy towards the end of the night was particularly persistent, trying to dance with me, kiss me, put my hand on his dick through his pants, etc. Basically, your typical persistent creep. I left towards the end of the night as usual, saying goodnight to everyone who worked in the club on my way out, I jumped in my car, and drove away; heading home to rest my weary feet. Dancing for 4 hours straight in 5" stilettos makes even my feet tired.

As I pulled away, the creep waved to me from his silver Mercedes. I ignored him and drove away. I went a few blocks and turned to pull on the highway. I looked in my rear mirror and noticed a silver car behind me, could be a Mercedes, could be nearly anything. He can't be stupid enough to be following me, can he? I drove for a while, watching the silver car behind me, hoping it wasn't the creep. But, every time I changed a lane, a few moments later the silver car changed lanes. I began to wonder what to do, should I call 911, what?

I decided to test my theory that it was the creep, I pulled off at the next exit, noting that the silver car swerved over two lanes to follow me off. Crap, it had to be him. I decided to drive around a few blocks quickly in an attempt to lose him, otherwise it would be time to find a policeman and try to attract his attention, or call 911. My sore feet just wanted to get home, but I also didn't want the creep to follow me there and rape me.

I went around a couple of blocks rather quickly, and I noticed that he was falling behind, a few more blocks and I could zip back on the highway and he wouldn't see me. I sped up a bit and slid around a few corners, just one more corner to go and I would be around it before he could see which way I turned. I zoomed around the corner and headed for the highway...

Then, I saw the red flashing lights behind me. Darn! Where were you about two minutes ago?

I pulled over, turned off my car, rolled down my window and waited for my erstwhile savior. The cop swaggered out of his car and came to my window, I greeted him with, "Thank you so much officer for pulling me over, you saved me." I then babbled about leaving a dance club, a silver car following me, trying to lose the car, etc. The few times I've been pulled over have nearly always started with a 'thank you' to the officer, I think it confuses them, they probably hear nothing but excuses, insults, pleading, etc. Never a 'thank you', 'you're doing a great job', or any other acknowledgement. It's my mission to I brighten their day; they have a rough enough time without me making it worse.

"I didn't see any car following you Miss."

"I'm just glad you came to my rescue, Officer... Jim," I said glancing at his name tag and flashing him the biggest, most grateful smile I could. The name has been changed to protect the besotted.

"Anyway Miss, I'd like to see your license, insurance, and registration."

"Anything you want officer. It was sliding through a stop sign wasn't it."

"Yes, Miss."

I rummaged in my purse, produced my license and handed it to him. I then opened the glove compartment and began to look for the rest of the documents he wanted. Who knows if they were even in there, I haven't had an accident or been pulled over by a cop in years.

I started to pull things out...

"Hmm, no this isn't it, but... is this a tire gauge officer?"

"Yes Miss."

"I needed one the other day, I have to remember that I have one in here..." I toss it back in and continue to look.

I bent over, trying to show as much of my legs under my tiny black miniskirt as I could. Yes, I'm shameless, but I didn't want a ticket.

Everytime I brought something back from the glove compartment, I made certain to look into his eyes with my blue eyes, bat my long black lashes, and show off all of the cleavage I could muster in my gold sequined low-cut camisole. A few flips of blond hair never hurt either.

I began to hand him all sorts of junk, asking him very politely to hold it while I continued to look. I pulled out the owner's manual, flipped through it, took out a few random papers, unfolded them, glanced at them, and handed them to officer Jim, while I babbled on about him rescuing me, the silver Mercedes, how afraid I was, etc.

He had quite a pile of random odds and ends in his hands when he finally said, "Miss, please take these back, I'd like to check on something." Finally, I was wondering how much stuff I needed to pile on his hands before he'd just go check my record. He took my license and headed back to his car, looked it up in the database, obviously found out that my record was spotless and wandered back. While he was gone, I did eventually find my registration and insurance.

He handed back my license, "Here you go Miss, I'm letting you off with a warning tonight, make certain you come to a full stop at all stop-signs."

"Yes, officer," I looked directly in his eyes and smiled as sweetly as I could, "let my say again, thank you for saving me, I was so afraid." I blew him a kiss, waved, and drove off. Even if he'd given me a ticket, I wouldn't have complained, just to guarantee the silver Mercedes creep wouldn't find me.

All the rest of the way home, I kept looking in my mirror, paranoid about silver Mercedes cars near me. This incident is just another example of why I love cops.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

I Got Pwned!


Tiessa's New Look
Originally uploaded by Tiessa
Oh wait, I purposefully sold myself. To my complete surprise, I was not purchased by Codie, who seemed to purchase everyone else that day. She did bid on me, but the person who finally paid over L$14,000 for me was the wonderful and delightful Celebrity Trollop, editor-in-chief and publisher of Second Style magazine. I think I had only been at events with her once or twice in the past, and I don't believe I've ever spoken more than a word to two to her. But, I always assumed someone with such a clever name must be fun - I was right, she's very fun and amusing.

I think she's tired of my fashion disasters and wished to save the world from being exposed to them. Interestingly enough, she'd never heard of my Mistress Strangelove series, but assumed I was kinky. I wonder if selling yourself at a slave auction gave that away?

The reason I know she wanted to save the world from my current style, is that she immediately took me shopping and did a make-over on me.

Let's just say I'm stunned by the results. I realized I hadn't spent much time shopping for skins in SL in over a year - yes, a year. When I last looked at skins, semi-decent ones cost over L$3k for one skin and it wasn't much better than the L$1k for 5 I had already purchased. Also, I was away for a while and not very active for some time, but I didn't realize things had changed this much.

I'm very happy Mistress Celebrity or Mistress Trollop broke me out of my rut. But now she's re-awakened the shopping addict in me, there goes the credit cards again.

I'm having problems deciding what I should call myself, Mistress Celebrity's Pet or Mistress Trollop's Trollop.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Who Wants To Own Me?

Today, at the blogger party, I'm being auctioned off. Come, place a bid, and win my services for 24 hours.

I'll make it worth your while ;)

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Wearing Latex In The Garden

Mistress Veyron instructed me to post a picture of myself in this latex outfit while in the garden at my palace.

Friday, July 4, 2008

Photo Meme Using Flickr


From The Winder Market, Nadine shows off a nice new meme - a photo mosaic from Flickr.

Meme Rules:
You type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr search. Then, using only the first page, pick an image. Then, copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into the mosaic maker from fd's Flickr Toys.

1. What is your first name?

Tiessa. the view from the top of Tiessa's Palace

2. What is your favorite food?

Nectarine. Nectarine Blossoms

3. What high school did you go to?

Paradise Lost (in SL :). paraiso perdido / lost paradise

4. What is your favorite color?

Duh. Pink. Rocks of Gold. Why its labeled pink, I'll never know, but its a pretty picture.

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

Veyron Supercharge ;) Vint & Veyron. And I got to pick a picture that had my #2 in it, Vint Falken :)

6. Favorite drink?

Strawberry daiquiri. Strawberries, anyone?

7. Dream vacation?

The stars. Fly me to the Mooooon...

8. Favorite dessert?

Cherry Pie. ~I smell sex & candy~

9. What you want to be when you grow up?

Me (Tiessa). Tiessa. Who or what else could I possibly want to be? I'm perfect already :)

10. What do you love most in life?

Me (Tiessa). Just Kidding :) Freedom. Jonathan Livingston Seagull

11. One Word to describe you.

Bimbo. Bimbo.

12. Your flickr name.

Tiessa Montgolfier. Tiessa at the May 20, 2007 blogger party

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

What Girl Band Are you?




You Should Be In The Donnas



You've got that a bit of an edge to you

The bad girl that all the good boys want!



Because everyone else is doing it...

Thursday, May 8, 2008

I'm Cartoon Hot and Dumb

I posted my image on FaceStat and evidently, I'm CartoonHot and a bit dim-witted.

attractive: hot stuff
ethnicity: Caucasian / White
weight: skinny
political affiliation: very liberal
relationship status: dating
intoxicated: sober
gender: female
trustworthy: not to be trusted
age: 17
intelligence: dull

Oh, and slutty too.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Proving Again I Can't Be Serious For Long

I have a great sexy name...


Temptress Incomparably Exchanging Sensual Stimulation and Affection


Get Your Sexy Name


That pretty much sums it up. Thanks BotGirl.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Eudeamon

Veyron gave me a story late Sunday night, Eudeamon, it's available for free from the author at that link. It's over 75,000 words long, but I read the entire thing in one sitting and stayed up far too late. The story is very well written and I highly recommend it to anyone. It made me laugh and cry, but most of all, it made me think. In other words, an excellent book.

In the story, a reporter investigates a new method of criminal punishment being used, Banishment. Exclusion from society is an old form of punishment, but this had a new twist, the criminal was placed in a special suit that prevented all forms of contact and interaction with others, an AI in the suit monitored the criminal and punished them if they violated the rules, then, the criminal was allowed to roam free wearing the suit. Isolated from society, but forced to be amongst it, the criminals, called a Bane while in the suit, were able to watch others enjoy their lives and yet be unable to participate. When their sentence was over, they were released. Nearly no criminal relapsed.

A very spooky kind of punishment. The reporter was trying to find out if it was inhuman. Were the makers of the suit subjecting the criminals to permanent mental and emotional harm? The program was only a few years old, so little was known of the long-term effects. She wanted to find out. The only problem, no one, not the makers, the city council, the police, not even the ex-Banes themselves would talk about it. She kept trying to interact with the Banes themselves, but they were unable to communicate with her and usually ran away since they were punished if they tried to interact.

Then, she discovered two things that drove the rest of the story of the book and made all the difference. First, some of the Banes who had been in the suits the longest, for more than a year, were beginning to commit petty crimes, lengthening their punishment and requiring them to stay in the suit longer. Second, in a park, in the middle of the night, one of the Banes communicated with her, writing a few words in the mud with a stick, replying to her questions about why it didn't want to be let out of the suit.

She cleared the silt and wrote slowly and carefully. You cannot understand. Only bane understand. Beauty beyond words. My perfect Eden. She stopped writing for a moment to hug herself again. Pleasure you’ll never know. Love you’ll never know. She underlined ‘love’ several times.

The story is good with action, excitement, humor, romance, and drama. A good plot, solid characterization, and numerous twists, turns, and surprises to keep you interested.

Now, if you've stuck with me this long, you're probably wondering what this has to do with Second Life. A few people have made their own Bane suits and one person has set up a Banishment program in Second Life, trying to replicate the book as well as possible. The suits in the story, made of a black latex like substance, along with the isolation appeal to certain types of subs and they have tried to duplicate the experience in Second Life. A few who have tried it, not knowing how it would affect them, have written about their Bane experiences.

As for me, while I'm curious, I'm more curious about how much of the experience of the book they have been able to replicate. I naturally isolate myself enough on my own and I don't want to make it more complete by doing the Banishment program for a week or more. Part of what I like about quiet and solitude is being able to watch the world, and I don't think SL has enough depth and detail to keep me from being bored.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

No Promises Relationships

After taking a spirituality in SL survey, Kean reflects on how she makes SL relationships work.

One thing I found that works very well is the 'no promises' frame. It would be so easy to cheat, run away, make another alt. But all that is not needed if you really set the ones you love free. It takes balance, honesty and huge buckets of empathy to make it work. And it takes refraining from scheduled meetings. 'No promises' has the good point that you won't get disappointed because there’s no promise to be broken, and when you meet up its just icing on the cake.

Another benefit is the presence. When you don't know when you will meet again, all you really have is the present moment. And to be present together is really the greatest gift...

I agree that this model of relationship seems to work well in SL. While I try to be on during a regular set of times and I coordinate with a few other close friends times to meet, I do have RL things that come up and I won't make it online. Moving to a "I'll see you when we are both on." seems to work well.

These virtual relationships remind me most of phone/email relationships. I have a number of people I've moved away from over the years that I keep in touch with via phone or email. While we may try to have regular conversations and times, what often happens is that RL intrudes and we end up calling "whenever we have time" or exchanging emails "whenever something happens."

What I need is a quick way to interject a message to friends in SL, the "I'm running late, but will still meet you at the restaurant" phone call that you do in RL, but that I find hard to do with SL meetings since I can't fire up the client "on the run".

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

I Sense A Disturbance In The Pink Side Of The Force

As if a million bimbos cried out "Duh?!" and then were silent...

A strange thing has been happening over the past day to my blog traffic. Normally, I receive 1-2 search results a day for "make me a bimbo" or "how to be a bimbo", since I'm #1 and #2 respectively for those search results on Google.

In the past day, those traffic numbers have spiked dramatically, and I've received 51 unique visitors in about 24 hours for "how to be a bimbo" and 12 unique visitors for "make me a bimbo". My Make Me A Bimbo post briefly passed my homepage on the number of hits it received. I can't explain why there arose this sudden interest in acting like a bimbo.

Even though I am a bimbo, all of my posts about the "make me a bimbo" phenomena are merely pointing out that I'm highly ranked on Google for that phrase. But then again, these are bimbo wannabes searching for the information.

To all of the wannabe bimbos out there who are discovering my blog for the first time, welcome! I think I'll have to turn up the bimbo quotient here for a while to satisfy the growing need for bimbo related material. In the mean time, check out the Mistress Strangelove series for reading, hopefully my ditziness will rub off on you. For the love of god, avoid the first post in the "bimbo's guide" series on LSL scripting, it'll make your fluffy pink head hurt - it makes mine hurt and I wrote it.

Or maybe this is a result of the launch of my "inTiessa" brand...

The Tiessa Brand

Following the example of Linden Lab and Zoe, I've decided to brand myself. I've whipped up a logo based on Linden Lab's new brand, but I think it may send the wrong message....



I don't mind other's using my logo as they see fit, I'm pretty easy... I mean easy going.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

You Can Call Me Mistress Evil


You are The Devil


Materiality. Material Force. Material temptation; sometimes obsession


The Devil is often a great card for business success; hard work and ambition.


Perhaps the most misunderstood of all the major arcana, the Devil is not really "Satan" at all, but Pan the half-goat nature god and/or Dionysius. These are gods of pleasure and abandon, of wild behavior and unbridled desires. This is a card about ambitions; it is also synonymous with temptation and addiction. On the flip side, however, the card can be a warning to someone who is too restrained, someone who never allows themselves to get passionate or messy or wild - or ambitious. This, too, is a form of enslavement. As a person, the Devil can stand for a man of money or erotic power, aggressive, controlling, or just persuasive. This is not to say a bad man, but certainly a powerful man who is hard to resist. The important thing is to remember that any chain is freely worn. In most cases, you are enslaved only because you allow it.


What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.



Thank you, Nadine for the interesting link. If this is such a good card for material success, where is all my loot?

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I Come To Bury Caesar

Linden Labs is inviting all of their Concierge customers to a big "Ides of March" toga party, ostensibly for "Instead of celebrating the Ides of March by killing Caesar, come and hang out with the Concierge team and other concierge customers."

I don't think they read my campaign speech for governor where I reworked, Shakespeare's famous Julius Caesar speech, otherwise they wouldn't let me near Phil with a dagger hidden in my toga.

Friends, Lindens, avatars, lend me your IMs;
I come to skewer Phil, not to praise him.
The bugs that SL inflicts affect us all;
The fixes are oft broken in the updates;
So let it be with Phil. The noble media
Hath told you Phil was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Phil answer'd it.

...

When I do log in, I pledge to you;
Fair avatars and furries all:
My governorship will be beneficent,
The lag and bugs will disappear,
Lindens once again shall fill all hands,
And snoops and puritans shall not peer in
On anything consenting adults will do.
But not while Phil rules the grid.