Every week or so, I look back through the photos of Second Life dance performance that I’ve posted on Flickr.
Sometimes, I smile.
Sometimes, I wince.
And then there’s the times... well... you know...
I like to call this portion of our trip:
Don’t Make Me Call The Dance Police.
Some people rub sunburns with aloe. Others get pissed off and try to murder the sun.
Pssst. Web. (piano)
Better than the Superbowl Halftime show.
There's no avoiding being branded a pervert for upskirting here.
Holy shit, that's a lot of feathers. It's like you murdered the cast of Rio and Rio 2.
Easiest. Job. Ever. "Here's a landmark. Double-click it. Oh, and don't piss off the locals."
This is where Lynxa buries her former dance partners.
See who I'm next to? Yep. Dig a hole for me.
I call them The Chainmail Mafia.
Okay, let me tell you about... damn it, Global Warming just sank the set before I could make a joke.
Yeah, I'm a camera whore.
Elayn keeps her tall shape and takes an elbow to the face.
If you see this at the Olympics, yeah, it's WWIII.
Just roll all the dice in your bag for damage.
... happy Valentine's Day! Get a big ol whiff!
Team Edward? Team Jacob? Screw that... TEAM LYNXA!
Whoever did the mocap of that move, I hope they got a bonus. And an icepack.
The R stands for me.
I'm photographing a photographer. So meta.
SAT IT! SAY IT IN THE COMMENTS! SAY IT NOW!
My bra cup just detatched itself.
Highway to the Debauche Zone
Sometimes, it's like they know they're on camera.
Thank you, and stay tuned next Sunday for the next thrilling episode.
"Hey. It's Cave. Someone's not daaaancing. Come on. You know the law - testing IS NOT a dance exemption. Don't make me call the dance police"
- Cave Johnson, Portal 2 Perpetual Testing Initiative Expansion Pack.