Sunday, November 30, 2008

I Are A Content Creator!

Something that distingishes Second Life from a traditional video games or MMORPGS like World of Warcraft is that the vast majority of the world is designed and built by residents. There aren't any missions to follow, villians to vanquish, prizes to earn, or battles to be fought…except those you make for yourself. When folks first log into Second Life, they often ask "What do I do?" and I feel self-consciously lame saying "Well, anything you want, really." It makes me feel like I drank the Linden Lab Kool-Aid and now it's suddenly spraying back out of my nostrils.

Second Life is big on the notion that users can create "content" in the virtual world and retain full ownership of their intellectual property. That's kind of a big claim considering that "property" only exists in an artificial environment run by a privately-held company and (so far as I know) can't be transferred elsewhere. But the practical in-world upshot is that Second Life users can build things and sell them to other residents (remember, the Linden Dollar is tied to the real-world economy) or just give them away for free.

Since everybody in Second Life has an avatar, the biggest categories of Second Life "content" are avatar add-ons like clothing (shoes, pants, skirts, jackets, shirts, undies, you name it), hair (all "good" SL hair is a wig!), skins (which make your avatar look pale, tan, made-up, like a zombie, or whatever), animations (so your avatar can have non-default "body language"), and tools that, say, tell you who is nearby or let you fly higher than something like 280 meters above the ground. (Oh, and other types of "tools" are available as well—for instance, boys in SL are "unendowed" by default. Giggle.)

Since I started in Second Life, people have been telling me I can just build stuff, and it's true: the Second Life client has tools built into it that enable anyone to create prims—3D "primitives" that, manipulated and grouped together, make up most of what you see in SL. Switch to build mode, click the ground, and boom there's a half-meter plywood cube that belongs to you. (Instantiating an object in-world is called "rezzing"—yay Tron.) To build you have to be on land that allows object creation—the owner has to configure their land so people can create things there. Lots of places allow that, but usually have "parcel autoreturn" set, meaning that prims you create get "returned" to you after a period of time, sometimes as soon as one minute. Unless you're really fast, that's not enough time to build anything—it's mainly there as a courtesy to let people "rez" stuff quickly to show other residents or unpack. Without autoreturn, any prim created on a parcel would be there essentially forever—"prim litter" that can only be picked up by the prim creators or the land owner. One form of "griefing"—causing trouble in SL—is to fill up people's plots with prims so nothing more can be created. Parcels—and whole sims—have arbitrary fixed number of prims they can support at any one time.

The upshot is that building anything besides a bunch of plywood boxes means owning your own land (requires a premium account), renting land (costs money), or using a sandbox—an area specifically set aside for folks to experiment with building, usually with an autoreturn value of four hours or more. Nothing you build stays around very long, but sandboxes are free and offer enough capability to get your feet wet. Or dirty. Sandy. Something.

So what got me started playing with prims? Um…yeah. Girling up my avatar.

In real life, I have three hoops on my left ear, and usually wear some simple ear studs that belonged to my grandmother. (They come from back in the day when having pierced ears was considered kind of slutty. No comment.) Second Life let users "attach" items to points on their avatars, and I quickly found some free jewelry items that could stand in for my nose ring and get repurposed for my left year. But you can only attach one thing to an attachment point at a time—once I had one hoop on my left ear, I couldn't add two more! Nor could I add studs, assuming I could ever find some that resembled m grandmother's.

Talking with folks, it seemed the only solution was building: use Second Life's tools to create a single combined object that linked together three ear hoops and a stud into a single combined object—and that object group could be put on my ear as a single item. Armed with that information, I headed off to a sandbox recommended by a friend and started playing.

Making and grouping the hoops was easy—but making ear studs was difficult. I discovered that while Second Life lets residents make prims with dimensions up to 10 meters, it doesn't let users make prims any smaller than a centimeter. Way too big for my ear studs. But I knew I had seen objects smaller than that! In fact, I'd seen them at Ode, home(?) of SL jeweler Random Calliope, who makes astonishingly detailed high-prim jewelry. Soon, I'd figured out how to make "fake" tiny prims—objects that appear smaller than they actually are by using transparent textures and (sometimes) strange contortions. And, bing! Lou has ear studs!



Lou's simple ear stud and triple hoop, all as one object.

Making two-prim ear studs got me thinking about how other objects might behave using the same tricks. And it was extremely frustrating: the building tools might be more accessible than AutoCAD or other 3D building tools, but they're still pretty inscrutible for everyday folks. So, I attended a building class in-world at the U21Global campusU21Global is a joint venture between Universitas 21 and Manipal Education, and they have an in-world presence in Second Life. The class clarified some features which had confused me—especially how to use little virtual rulers. I went back to the sandbox, and after a while I had this wire brooch:

Wire brooch with micro-prims.

The shiny bar below the brooch measures 1cm × 2cm—remember that 1cm is as small as a prim can get in Second Life! But look at the little colored "gems" set in the wire brooch…they appear lots smaller than 1cm, and the wire is thinner still.

Ironically, the brooch kind of came out too small. When I wear it, people have to zoom in to see it! Probably just as well—it's not perfect, and not quite what I intended. But it's a start, and now I have "intellectual property" in Second Life!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Keying In

Anyone who knows me in Second Life knows I've been on a perpetual, very stereotypically girly quest for quality footwear. SL is littered (in some places, literally littered) with free and cheap clothes, but with some notable exceptions they tend to be low-quality items. Some aren't even a step up from the default "Lindenwear" any avatar can create using the built-in appearance controls; others, I suspect, may be leftovers from earlier days of SL, when dressing up avatars was new to everybody. As clothing designers got more sophisticated—and SL's seemingly huge digital fashion industry took root—perhaps those items ceased being things people would pay for, and became things to be given away to new residents as a bit of a leg up.

Truth be told, I have found some great shoes in Second Life! I have no idea what makers are hip and cool in the SL universe, so I've mostly just followed my nose, sometimes chatting with residents about their favorites, sometimes using SL's built-in Search feature, and sometimes (I admit it!) using the camera control to zoom in on logos on cool things other avatars are wearing. I'm far from a Second Life fashionista, but I've found shoes I like at Shiny Things, Redgrave, Jeepers Creepers Shoes, Novocaine, and a few other places.

But, in real life I practically live in sneakers, so it made sense for my second self to get a decent pair of Chucks. My search somewhat randomly took me to Akeyo—I'd originally gone there because someone said they had unusually high-quality animations, but there, sitting on a table in another room, were a fabulous pair of Chucks. Pricey, but fab. Sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do!

But Akeyo itself proved to be unusual for a so-called store. The retail space itself is set on a set of, well, I guess rocks that resemble 3m high keyboard keys. But the sky! The sky is filled with monstrous, overlapping semi-transparent sheets of…something vaguely crystalline! I don't know what they're supposed to represent, but their shape shifts depending on the viewer's angle: as you turn, some sheets turn transparent while others solidify. Invisible transparent objects are hard to fly through—even with SL super-powers!—but it made for some amazing views.


Nestled above the store was a floating, round…observation post? I don't think it was complete, but it demonstrated something you almost never see in Second Life: strong shadows. Maybe my computer just isn't powerful enough, but the quality of light in the SL universe is very overcast: you can look up at the sky at high noon and see a sun floating there, but if you look down at the ground you won't see but the slightest hint of your own shadow. But this observation post showed strong shadows across the floor, and it as positioned just above SL's perpetual layer of clouds, making for some dramatic lighting.

I quickly realized these weren't "real" shadows at all, but rather a clever use of textures—essentially, the images used to "paint" surfaces of objects—to simulate sunlight. But it's a great effect.

Having busted out of the Akeyo store, I explored a little on the ground around the island…and found a most curious elevator! When touched, it begins shooting giant spores slowly skyward, and if you click one it takes you along for a ride!

Your destination? Something called The Shroom—a giant, hollow mushroom floating hundreds of meters above Akeyo and decked out like some psychedic lounge, complete with bunny rabbits reading fairy tales.


Perfect place to put my feet up and try on my new Chucks. Now where in my Inventory did they go…?

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Getting Above It All

The geography of Second Life is hard to describe. There are areas called "mainland," featuring "continents" of interconnected land where lots of residents (and Linden Labs, the company who runs Second Life) have "parcels," or bits of virtual real estate. Continents and spaces between them are made up of 256×256m² areas called "sims." Each sim is (I think) an application running on a Linden Labs server (whether physical or virtual probably depends on its use), and every sim has its own name. The sim where I started out in Second Life is called Ross, and it's further subdivided into several parcels, one of which is a Moroccan-themed infohub for new residents called "Memory Bazaar."

In theory, I suppose it's possible for a residents to walk through these continents like they were a coherent virtual landscape (or, more likely, fly, since every SL resident has Superman-like antigravity flight powers). But there are also "islands," which are (I think) entire sims owned by one person or group. Islands are disconnected from the mainland; to get to one, you have to teleport.

You'd think with every Second Life resident having the ability to fly and teleport anywhere they want at will, architecture and design in SL would be radically different than real life. And there are some notable differences: ceilings tend to be much higher in SL than in RL, and a room that seems small in SL would seem enormous in RL. However, this has more to do with the "camera" on the Second Life client software (users see the world from a point a few meters behind and slightly above their avatar, rather than through their avatar's eyes) than it does with any fundamental re-thinking of environmental design. Simply put, walking around SL is clumsy…particularly if you're on a slow network, have a slower computer, or just have the misfortune to be in a location with lots of other avatars.

The sad reality is that most of Second Life looks like a bad cartoon strip mall. Garish buildings clash right next to opulent ones right next to amateurish ones right next to…well, bordering-on-obscene ones. Almost all the content, buildings, and objects in Second Life are created by residents. And few are master architects.

Early on I got an idea that I would deliberately go looking for areas of Second Life that were interesting, whether they had great architecture, good ideas, or were simply unusual. It's not hard to find places like that, but sometimes you find locations that truly stand out. One of the first to blow me away is called Ode; it's a private island and sort of the home of an SL jeweler of some repute named Random Calliope. But instead of being a huge store, it's a giant mesa, just below SL's perpetual layer of clouds…and it's a gorgeous field of flowers, with trees and cliffs and a stable and…well, if you look, you can learn a lot about Random's jewelry, find a little floating showroom, and even a few pieces here and there. But, mostly, it's just a beautiful spot.

While at Ode, I noticed in SL's mini-map—a little on-screen map that shows your current location and the area around you, including other people—that there was an avatar somewhere above me. That's not unusual (after all, everyone can fly!) but I flew up to something like 500 meters and the avatar was still above me. So I kept flying up—and I hit my head on the ceiling of the world!

I didn't realize it at the time, but it turns out a common practice in Second Life is to build "sky platforms"—areas that just float in the air. Up there, land owners can work on building stuff "out of site" and out of the way. Without assistance, avatars can only fly up a few hundreds meters; to go higher, they need assistance from a script, often instantiated in-world as a "flight feather" or other flight-assist tool. Aside from a private island with a very restrictive guest list, I don't think there's any way to truly get away from it all in Second Life, but a sky platform affords some measure of privacy.

But I didn't know that, yet. :(

So, as soon as I bumped my head on the ceiling, I flew around a little bit, trying to find a way to keep flying higher. The avatar on the mini-map was still above me! I didn't find away around the ceiling, so I used a trick a friend had showed me to get through objects…and found myself in what I later learned was a workshop/behind-the-scenes area used by Ode's creators. At the time, I thought it was a game—find a way through the ceiling!—but now I realize I was trespassing in what was supposed to be a private space.

Lou trespasses where she's not supposed to be.



When I learned what I had done was (at best) impolite, I tried to apologize to the kind folks at Ode…and since they still let me hang out in the field of flowers, I assume the weren't too offended. But I still feel terrible about it.

However, some sky platforms residents are supposed to find! A friend gave me a landmark to a place called Zero Point, and it uses sky platforms as a way to create separate areas that are radically different from each other. One is like walking through an animated disco ball, or perhaps being an extra in the original Tron movie:


Another has a distinctly more sinister theme:


And those are just two of several "floors" at Zero Point. As far as I can tell, they're all open to the public.

So, while a lot of Second Life is still designed like a bad strip mall, some ambitious users are using SL's capabilities to explore and define new types of environments. And every so often I fly up into the sky…just to see what I might find.

Of course, sometimes:

Lou and Mia take a several-thousand-meter fall!


…that doesn't work out so well!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

The Provocation

First, a confession. Although I've been active in Second Life for a few months now, I still feel like an outsider. I've made some friends and spent some time "in-world," as they say, I haven't been able to shake the feeling I don't belong. Mainly, I don't understand how things work. I've made some friends—I'm constantly peppering them with questions and they've been wonderfully patient with me. But when I attend events everyone else knows each other…and I'm the stranger, knowing almost no one. My little cartoon self stands (or sits) off to one side, tries to stay out of the way, minds her Ps and Qs, listens, and usually keeps her mouth shut.

Lou the trivia master
Which is why this screengrab from Chaddington Boomhauer tickled me so much. It was my first indication anyone in SL outside my tiny immediate circle had even noticed me. So, Chad, this blog is kind your fault. I assume no responsibility.

Pursuing Trivia

In my real life I occasionally attend pub quizzes, which are semi-standardized trivia games held in bars on off nights. Boozehound traffic might taper off on Mondays or Tuesdays, but sometimes the nerd crowd can be lured in—and lots of nerds drink, so the bars are good with it. Pub quiz rules vary, but generally folks group into table-based teams, each team antes up, and the collective pot serves as prize money for the winners. Teams can be as large as eight or ten people…but that's for suckers, since even if you win, you have to split the winnings eight or ten ways. So I usually do pub quiz as a team unto myself, or with one (or maybe two) other people who can hold their water. And, yeah, I win.

I have three main problems with pub quiz:
  1. I hate being hit on
  2. I don't really drink
  3. Cheaters annoy me
First point should be obvious: guys, if a girl shows up on her own at pub quiz, it doesn't mean she's trolling for boys. Really. Second, hate to say it, but beating drunk people at a trivia quiz isn't as challenging as it might seem…and most of you aren't as funny as you think you are. And third, sheez, put the mobile phones away. (And stop having your non-playing friend you think we haven't noticed over at the bar text you answers.) It's just pathetic.

So when a real-life friend hesitantly suggested I might like doing trivia games in Second Life, I thought I'd give it a shot. Although SL's Linden Dollar is tied to the real world economy (about $220L to $1CAD as I write), you're never going to get rich playing trivia in Second Life. But I not going to get rich playing pub quiz either. He warned me about SL's seedier side, but said it's pretty easy to avoid.

Most trivia games in SL have a similar format: a host calls out (well, usually pastes) questions into general text-based chat, and the first person (or, sometimes, first two or three persons) to answer the question wins. Games are typically 20 to 30 questions; some pay a small amount (say $15L to $25L) for each correct answer, and others pay a larger amount at the end to the person who got the most questions right. Some games award prizes or gift certificates rather than money, and sometimes trivia games are combined with other events like costume contests or even life music shows.


At first I thought SL trivia games were essentially typing contests, measuring who could type the answer the fastest. For easy give-away questions, that's essentially true, although now I think it's probably more important to read fast than to type fast. But speed is definitely a factor, since, on the Internet, anyone can google. The best SL quizzes use well-considered questions that aren't common knowledge, but aren't as obscure as some of the stuff pub quiz gets into (quick: which province contributed the least to Canada's GNP in the second quarter of 2006?). Done right, the result in SL quizzes is that people who honestly know the anwer have more than enough time to beat the googlers. But we're still talking seconds, not the minute or more teams get to dicker about answers in pub quiz.

A gaggle of trivia players at a recent Double Standards event


So a typical SL trivia game is a bunch of cartoon characters standing (or sitting) in a radius around the host (because if you get too far away, you can't "hear" the questions), doing nothing but typing to each other. It's essentially a 3D chatroom, not a video game. The avatars don't really interact with each other or do anything: a few might play dancing animations if there's music at the location (or, even if there's not), but the serious trivia folks tend to just sit or stand. A weird fact is that few of them actually see the tableau they form: a lot of the players have their "cameras"—their computer's view of the SL world—zoomed into the ground or some other non-moving object to reduce "lag." Because if your computer spends its time drawing another avatar's hair and sparkly jewelry, you might not see a question until it's too late.

Now, at real life pub quiz, I've found myself wishing I could zoom through the wall or the floor and not see what's happening in the room. It'd make some things so much simpler.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Let's Try This From The Top

Hi, I'm Lou, and this is my blog.

Lou Netizen is my avatar in the online virtual world Second Life—which probably needs no introduction, but suffice to say it's an online, 3D, virtual world. Lou Netizen isn't a character I play in Second Life:Lou is me. In real life, my name really is Lou (well, "Louise"), I really am short, and I really am a girl. I live in British Columbia, Canada.

I started in Second Life in August 2008 when a real-life friend said I might enjoy in-world trivia games. And I do enjoy a mean bout of trivia here and there. But I've also made friends in Second Life, and had a lot of fun exploring and chatting with people from all over the world who do all sorts of things in SL…some of which I'm sure I don't want to know about. And I've become a bit fascinated with some aspects of Second Life culture and how it's different from—and inseparable from—the real world. If nothing else, Second Life can be a fascinating glimpse at digital culture…and some of the benefits and pitfalls of an increasingly interconnected world.

I intend this blog to be a loose record of some of my activities in Second Life, along with maybe some rants and comments and opinions about things that happen there and things people do. I don't expect anyone will really read this, except maybe a few in-world friends. If you found these pages at random, I hope you find them useful or interesting. If not…I'm sure there are one or two other sites out there on the Internet you can try.

And we're off.

Hello world…

OK little blog post: I don't know how many of you there will be, or when you might have some company. But someone has to be the first, so…go on, now. Scoot. There ya are.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Louisms

I admit, I talk funny. Well, that I type funny, anyway, with idiosyncrasies and slang and made-up words that occasionally elicit a chuckle, occasionally confuse people, and sometimes make Second Life residents think I might be from another planet. They are hereby called Louisms.

I may have made up a few of these, but I'm sure I picked up the majority from other people. Either way, fore-warned is fore-armed! The date on this post is misleading; Blogger doesn't really support static pages, so I'm making this seem like an "old" post and I'll just keep going back to it when I say sumptin' phunny.

  • ARCsinn: "bling," or Second Life avatar attachments that emit particles. ARC refers to Avatar Rendering Cost.
  • bazoomn, plural -s: bosom.
  • biffiddy 'don, plural -s: Big hair, usually on a woman or glam rock wannabe. Derives from The B-52s.
  • borkedadj.: 1. typoese for broked 2. A synomym for f*cked 3. MUD-era reference to the Swedish Chef from The Muppet Show; somewhat predates the term spam in online lingo. May also derive from/refer to Robert Bork.
  • caspern, plural -s: Second Life avatars that appear as a puff of smoke. Refers to Casper the Friendly Ghost.
  • dingleberryn, plural dingleberries: 1. Something clinging unfortunately to one's backside. Example: the dog biting this griefer's ass is a dingleberry. 2. testicle.
  • doodlen, plural -s: A diminutive and affectionate derivation of "dude."
  • dorkbotn, plural -s: Oh, come on, this means exactly what you think it means!
  • dweeadj.: Something that is both dweeby and twee.
  • floatiesn; big gravity-defying bazooms, as often seen on megapixies.
  • funcusev; the act of saying for fun to confuse people; a noonerspism for "confuse."
  • jagglen, plural -s; adj; -y; var: jaggleicious: When something in Second Life renders badly or incompletely. "On my screen, you have a bad case of the jaggles." "Boy, the lag is making this sim jaggleicious." Derives from jagged.
  • kerflufflen, plural -s: Dispute, squabble, or controversy. A diminutive term for "drama."
  • kitshickersn, plural: big, tough boots. A noonerspism for shitkickers.
  • megapixien, plural -s: Typically, a bling-laden, thong-wearing barbie amazon vampire hooker avatar in Second Life that takes up far too much of my computer's video memory.
  • nooblev, -ed, -ing: Describes the bumbling, over-shooting, bumping-into-things, duck-like way new Second Life residents walk. He noobled around the room for a while until he found the teleporter.
  • noonerspismn, plural -s: Spoonerism.
  • padoodlewadn: when referring to self, c.f. dorkbot; when referring to others, c.f. doodle.
  • plinkv, -ed, -ing: To chastize or upbraid in public chat. Often just on the edge of being hostile. A player who performs particularly well at a trivia game is sometimes plinked by others who believe the player is deliberately monopolizing the game. Don't believe me? It's true!
  • plippedadj.: 1. tired; 2. tweaked.
  • poochedadj., screwed. Derives from screwed the pooch.
  • slagged—adj,: Second Life—SL—plus lagged.
  • Zoltronn: The planet from which all weird people emanate. I mean, duh.

Lou See Lou

Sometimes it's not about how I see Lou, but how others see Lou. When I find myself popping up in others' pictures from Second Life, I'll try to link to those images here. Once again, the date on this post is misleading: Blogger doesn't really have a notion of static pages.



Lou's annual dance (featuring the adorable Preston Benedict)
(August 28 2010, photo by AnaMaria Quintessa)



No, I'm not a guest on Oprah! I'm guest-hosting Kung-Po trivia with Mako Kungfu, and we turned it into a coffeetable set since I don't dance. That's DJ Rach Borkoton on the speakers!
(July 27, 2010, photo by Mako Kungfu)

SL Trivia Queen Honey Potez hosted a Redneck Trivia or something similar at a trailer-trash themed sky platform…so I tried to dress in theme. I almost never dress for costume events.
(July 3 2010, photo by Honey Potez)



Hosting Lou's Clues
(June 19 2010, photo by Cygnoir Blanc)



Lotus Ceriano, me, and Cygnoir Blanc chatting after Buccaneer Bowl
(Apr 17 2010, photo by Cygnoir Blanc)



Lou and AnaMaria hanging out at an early version of Lou's Flying Island Thingy. Ana was apparently gearing up for a "come as someone else" trivia event…I think I was stunned to be taller than a non-tiny!
(Apr 2010, photo by AnaMaria Quintessa)



Left to right: AnaMaria Quintessa, me, and Hilda Static at a Choo-Choo Chicks concert. Ana is not stepping on my foot, I am…uh, attempting to trip her! (by AnaMaria Quintessa 30-Jan-2010).



"Virtual Height" by Mako Kungfu, 28-Jan-2010.
Me, Honey Potez, and Girl Mako, who is apparently considered short for SL, yet still looms over me!



Hosting Lou's Clue's at Triviathon, with Maelstrom Janus spending some quality time with my Death Ray. (by Lette Ponnier 07-Nov-09).



This is what happens when you try on one of those random items people give you in the middle of a trivia game. (by AnaMaria Quintessa, 30-Oct-2009)


"Lou Dances!" by Mako Kungfu 23-Aug-09.
No, this is not Photoshopped (sigh): it was Mako's rez day party and Chadd had him pull that "On my rez day people have to do anything I ask, right?" stunt. In all truth, Mako was a perfect gentleman despite leaving his claws on—but the only reason he lived is that he's so tall my foot-impaling heels were a good 50cm off the ground! Er, pond water. Because we were on a pond. Mumble. I'm just glad Rach didn't kill me. Or him.
[Update 09-Sep-09: O gawd there's video. >cringe<]



"Lou and Rach above Atomic Owl" by Lillian Shippe, 21-Aug-09.



"Lou, Dragon Victim" by Mako KungFu, 02-Aug-2009, at the "Armada Burns" sendoff for Armada Breakaway.



"Zoo Lou," by Mako Kungfu, 23-Jun-2009. Yeah, I know I look lik a cop. Wanna see video of what was so confusing about Zoo that evening?





Lou Takes to the Skies, by Mako Kungfu, 15-Jun-2009



"Lou in her corner" by Mako Kungfu, 04-Jun-2009. Yes, Lou went to a Goth music event at Armada Breakaway…and failed to fit in. But check out the DJ's steampunk sound system in the background!



Me and Chadd the Neko Duck at AnaMalene's Scatterbrain'd trivia event (by Lette Ponnier 31-May-2009)



"Lou's Second First Time" by Chaddington Boomhauer, 24-May-2009



"Lou's First Time" by Chaddington Boomhauer, 22-May-2009




"Lou at Double Standards" by Lette Ponnier, 20-May-2009


"Lou Kungfu," video (yes, video!) by Mako Kungfu, 17-May-2009. Rach Borkotron and I go mano-an-mano…and Rach schools me but good. And people wonder why I don't just hop on any poseball that happens to be floating around!



"Double Standards 5/8" by Lette Ponnier, 08-May-2009



"Lou in Armada," by Mako Kungfu 02-May-2009



"Brain Implants?" by Chaddington Boomhauer 20-Apr-2009



"Flying Kitty," by Mako Kungfu 31-Mar-2009



"Chance Meeting," by Mako Kungfu 31-Mar-2009



"Lou is Batman," by Trilby Button, Mar-2009



"Tableau: Hamster Night 6," by Lette Ponnier, 13-Feb-2009. Lette, Trilby, and Lou are confronted by a gun-toting, spliff-smoking griefer.



Lou and Rain at Zoo Bar grand opening, Ashiri 06-Dec-2008



"Lou the trivia master," by Chaddington Boomhauer, 06-Nov-2008