BLITZ IN BOOBS

I was happily minding my own business. My virtual "palmito" sitting in the milkwood, writing. My real "palmito" sitting on my chair at home, writing. Totally unaware of what I had caused in SL.
Basically, there I was, in my reindeer costume, torch and hot chocolate a cigarette and two boobs protruding insolently from my furry chest.
"Take your boob away from me Ma'am" came Blitz.
So all at once, I am having to look for my mesh body HUD, answer to Blitz' insolent comments and appease the Gods of the milkwood, a PG Sim if ever there was one. Most embarrassing. I had already given up, my boobies refusing to cooperate, enjoying the snow for the first time in any of their lives when someone suggested I logged off and on again.
It worked. When I came back on my HUD was working, my boobs went into hiding and I went back to the writers wood only to find... this...

That, my friends, is Blitz in boobs.

GODS - 1

The cigarette fell from my lips the moment I realised that lady standing there by my side was, no other than Ms Polo! Those hands in the photo had knitted the sweater I was wearing. I mean... GOLLY!
She went on to say I would be her perfect model! then again... she also said she couldn't see a thing and asked for directions towards the exit O_o

EXCALIBROOM

It is fitting that the first time I meet this old friend in this new life, we should find a floating broom in the middle of the public house.
We both have a go at unhinging the thing from its stuck-up position, without success.
Who will be the strong man or woman to undo the deed? whoever does will - no doubt - become the king or Queen of the Blitz.

HOUSE WARMING

Nancy Grace... Gosling.
Mrs Gosling.
Mrs Ryan Gosling.
That had been then, our wedding day. I had repeated his name so much it stopped being a name.
Now he is lost, somewhere in France, they say. With his plane.
And I am in London all alone.
Soon it will be 1941.
As I finish the last touches someone knocks on the door, then someone else. Before I realise, the whole street is home, drinking and dancing and joking away as if the war is no more.
Nothing better to do, for now, I suppose.
They leave quietly, later on, lights off, hush hush down the road.
I look at the stairs and <HIC> shake my head.
It's a good thing they delivered the sofa today.