Pastor Q

My little hideaway and the setting for a few private weddings.

Clancy of the Overflow gets a small spot in this. He’s a young dog, and trainable, like all of the fabulous dogs from the Virtual Kennel Club.

There I was, wandering through the Sahara without a care in the world. Or a sunhat.

Even a wild Taureg would have admired my derring-do, and approved of my sombre black garb.

But, as I turned the corner of a sand dune, I spotted this. A Quinquereme!

Though what it’s doing in the middle of the desert is beyond me.

Quinquereme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine

Fortunately someone has dug a canal of sorts to moor this magnificent ship. With a whole half sim for it to sit in.

The Sahara is an amazing space. It truly is a desert (apart from the aforementioned ancient war galley). Nothing but sand, sand and lots more sand.

Not a camel caravan in sight.

I was told there was an oasis somewhere, and date palms. A small tent prepared for guests with soft many-tasseled cushions, red gelatinous sweets, chilled orange water and a hookah.

No such luck. All I could see was sand.

You can click on the pictures for larger images.

SLURL : Sahara

There used to be a great number of awful clubs in Second Life, each and every one of them out to take money from unsuspecting newbies.

There was a lot of gambling in those days.

Maybe getting $5 a night from a greenhorn doesn’t seem like much, but you multiply that 100 or 200 times, (some clubs had 500 people through every day of the week), and that adds up to a lot of cash. Solid US dollars.

Fortunately, the gambling was jumped on and banned from the grid leaving the real residents (as opposed to the rip-off merchants) cheering with relief.

But you can still find clubs of course. Good clubs, clubs for dancing, clubs where like-minded people gather for their favourite music and friendly chat.

Phat Cat’s Jazz Club is such a place.

At Phat’s you must observe the Dress Code and behave accordingly or you won’t even get a foot in the door. So, best togs on! That means formal gowns for the ladies and evening wear, or tuxedos, for the gentlemen.

Sometimes I’m able to get away from the nervy brides and fretting grooms to relax a little myself. Off I go to Phat’s and have a little slow swing dance or just sit and listen to the music of the Dorseys, Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald.

The photo is of Phat Cat’s popular hostess and hot-jazz trumpet player. Twinkle Littlething.

Slurl : Phat Cat’s Jazz Club