Trials of Eyeliner

Comes across all shy and coy, just another nancy boy

Settling down at 7am with my caffeine du jour and Second Life. This is not, I might add, strictly by choice. The feline americans, while adorable and usually asleep at this hour as well, were a bit rambunctious this morning in their “Lets climb on the bed, onto Nigel, and let him know we’re hungry, shall we?” affections this morning. Thus, its only 7am and I’m already up, dressed, caffinated, and taking photos. The partner in crime sleeps through all and, being the super hero I am, have taken the bullet so he can sleep. Or something.

One of these days their cuterinos are going to run out and it won’t work. But for now, after over a decade of not having a pet, they still win every time. Bastards.

So instead, I slip through yesterday’s shopping purchases and snap photos.

Mr.Poet, a longtime favorite designer of mine, I had thought was gone. But I saw someone come across flickr in a new jacket from there and I finally tracked him/her down to the new location. Its all the fault of Mr.Poet, actually, that I started doing shots with stylecards in the first place. Something about a scarf and nothing else.

Damned good scarf, though.

Its a chilly Sunday morning here in SF, so the sweater I picked up from Mr.Poet fit perfectly. I’ve always had a thing for corded sweaters. Something about pulling your arms inside and hovering over hot coffee. Or sliding into a sweater and nothing else. Sure, you’re legs are cold, but it looks so nice over the ass.

Petr is taunting me with old photos from 2008 when we met. I suppose its my own fault, I showed the guys some photos of he and I from back then when neither of us looked as we do now and realizing that we probably all met one another then as well.. but just never really crossed paths like we have now.

So here I am, cuddled in my warm Mr. Poet sweater, contemplating friendships on SL. And Petr sends the blind TP. He’s the only one that can get away with that… but maybe I need to relax and do it more often. You never know who you might meet.. or what friendships may last the years.

Toodles,

-N

Stylecard: (or, “OMG – he’s finally linking!”)

Hair: Sadistic Hacker – Guren

Sweater: Mr.Poet – Knitted Coat Black

Rings/nails: Rozoregalia

Pants: Egoisme – Lagrange Male With Ornaments

One thought on “Sunday Mornings

  1. Nath Pevensey says:

    Holy Hannah, Mr.Poet didn’t vanish from inworld??? THANK YOU!

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