The Alphaville Herald

Throwing my Helmet into the Ring: A Mixed-Reality “Event”

by Alphaville Herald on 07/06/07 at 7:50 pm

by Jimbo Quality

[What can we say? The idiot strikes again.
--Walker Spaight]

Lately, in real life, I’ve been hanging around at my local airport. I started going there a few months ago to price airline tickets to Chicago for the Second Life Community Convention, but now I go for the coffee. (I tell you, someday someone is going to invent a way to sell airplane tickets over the computer and they’ll make a bazillion dollars!) The nice people at the airline desks have been busier and busier, and as the weeks wore on it was getting harder and harder to find someone who had the time to help me look for cheap tickets. Gosh, the things those airlines make their employees do! I had people tell me that they’d love to help me but they had to go wash the plane, or fly the plane, or pack the bags, or have their body cavity searched [Only one? -- Ed.], or any of a few hundred other things I can hardly remember. If you own one of the big airlines and you’re reading this, give those nice people at a break! (At least until they can help me get a ticket to Chicago, ha-ha.)

Anyway, while I was waiting for someone to notice that I had been standing at the ticket counter for an hour and a half, my eyes fell on a television on the other side of the departure hall–and there I was treated to the hottest babe I’ve ever seen. She was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, had a smart and perky haircut, and was saying something with great enthusiasm and joy in front of a large group of people. Immediately, I was in love. Unable to hear the audio, and too far away to read the closed captioning, I feared I would not find out her name, so I ran to the television and got there in time to see her first name only: “Hillary.” On the spot, I resolved to find her. Little did I suspect that I would come tantalizingly close in Second Life.

Hillary. I’d never realized what a wonderful name that is. Musical, lyrical, evoking images of swans, bacon, Bee Gees and clean Irish soaps. I started writing it on my official Herald reporter notebooks, on napkins in restaurants, wherever I happened to be. I was truly madly and deeply in love with the mysterious woman on the television, Hillary.

Increasingly depressed that I might never meet my dream girl, that caliente chili pepper in Chanel, and even more depressed that I might never even learn her last name, I logged into SL and planned to go find one of those fun bottles of booze that make you fall down when you drink them. Now, ever since the appearance of my fabulous glutes as the Herald’s Post Sixxx Guy a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been hounded by people seeking to rip off a piece of some Jimbotastic beefcake, so much so that I’ve been forced to cover my boyish good looks with the awesome helmet that the Weather Channel people gave me a while back. So I rezzed, put on my helmet, and struck out in search of a good drunk.

I didn’t find any booze. Instead, I found my lady love–and she’s frickin’ rich!

Having scribbled “Hillary” on every slow-moving flat surface I could find since that magical interlude at the airport, it didn’t take me long to type those special letters into the search box. I chased a couple Hillaries around for sport, and then I came to a parcel marked »Hillary 2008 SL Campaign Headquarters«. I beamed in and was nearly struck dumb: there she was, in all her MILFy splendor, waving and smiling from big signs that read “Hillary in 2008.”

I toured the parcel and learned that my lady love is very, very rich. There are limousines and helicopters on her property. Hell, she’s so well loved she even has dolphins or porpoises or something frolicking just offshore, You gotta have some serious juice to have both a helicopter and a frolicking pair of aquatic mammals.

I poked around the property a bit and used my reporter skills to ascertain that she’s running for some sort of office in 2008, as those posters that say “Hillary in 2008” are exactly the kind of things people running for office have kicking around. Given the clout she has (based on the height at which the dolphins leap), she must be running for a serious office indeed. I’m pretty sure she must be running to become the President of Second Life! [Cue dramatic string crescendo. I mean, *yawn*... -- Ed.]

Well, this depressed me.

My lady love, Hillary Whateverhernameis, will be far too busy running Second Life to take up with the likes of me. I mean sure, this place needs a leadership enema, but why does it have to be my Hillary that leads that charge up the collective sphincter of SL? Feeling very blue, I went fishing at »Neo-Realms Fishing Camp«.

As I was reeling in an impressive batch of minnows and goldfish, it hit me: I should run for President of Second Life too! Holy Crap, this is perfect! Surely the only person with a chance to beat someone as hot and sexy as my Hillary would be someone even hotter and sexier — yes, that’s right: me! And with my mad organizing skillz, I could run this place like a tight little railroad and still have hours and hours for making sweet love to my hot politico sweet-potato. It’s perfect.

I’ll be kicking off the campaign soon, I promise. I’ve already had t-shirts made up and I’m selling them for L$1 at my awesome store, »Great Stuff Cheap in Tangun«. Proceeds from sale of the shirts will go 100% to either the campaign or Slingo. Remember, a vote for Jimbo is a vote for making sweet love to my sweet-potato, so come out and support the campaign, support Jimbo 4 Prez of SL.

Peace out, my peeps.