M is for Myg

Okay, this started a couple of weeks ago when this charming man, Wrath, the biggest Morrissey/Smiths freak that ever was, noticed that “Morrisey” was an available SL last name. Someone pointed out that it would be funny if we had a Smiths/Morrissey night at Clockwork and all came with alts with the last name “Morrisey.” Well, hang the dj, that’s a brilliant idea. (And yes, we understand it’s not exactly the spelling of Moz’ last name. Leave the second S off for sorrow. Or something.) We laughed about it and agreed we should. But, as we have brilliant ideas all the time (ha!), we didn’t immediately pursue it.

But last night we started talking about it again and began thinking of first names to go with “Morrisey.” Myg disappeared and then, faster than a hairdresser on fire, this ugly n00b “Myg Morrisey” tp’d into the club. It was on. Soon there was “More,” “KillUncle,” “JellyBean,” “HawksRock,” “Jillian,” and “Suedehead” Morrisey. By the end of the night we had “Sable,” “Nene,” “Piccadilly,” and “Zo.” It won’t stop there.

Morriseys are against rules. They are anarchic, friendly, and weird.

Morriseys generally travel in packs. Though there are no rules, Morriseys feel more comfortable in the company of other Morriseys. A lone Morrisey is a vulnerable target, and we don’t want to feel more vulnerable than we already do. Also, traveling in packs is a moveable feast, a transient Morrisey mob. While out traveling in packs, Morriseys will be noticed. Don’t panic. Stick together. Ask the people if they like The Smiths or Morrissey. When they say “yes” jubilance ensues. Encourage them to change their last name to Morrisey immediately.

What will come of this? I wouldn’t say, no. But you can bet there will be events, probably parties, sets, and Morrisey Mobs. Eventually, we will outnumber the Lindens. Get your Morrisey now. How soon is now? Today. Join the group -=Morrisey=-. Await instructions.

Update/Morriseys news:
My SLife with the Thrill Kill Morrisey Cult
Wrath Paine in Night of a Thousand Morriseys

Haggard, strangled breaths escaped from the near lifeless form of my demonic psychotherapist. I looked at her with disgust, thinking of how I’d poured my soul out to her, only to be betrayed once again. I had come to her out of desperation, looking for answers, admitting my weaknesses, asking for help. And in the end she tried to destroy me.

What a load of bullshit that was.

White heat began to ebb and throb inside of me and that feeling of heavy dense smoke in my brain returned. I saw the look of derision on Moody’s face, even on the edge of her own annihilation, and felt my insides boil.

Never again would this bitch diagnose a depressive, not if I had anything to do with it.

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I didn’t want to die. Not now. Not like this.

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“I am not paying you for this!” I screamed at Dr. Moody.

Vanny lay there mortally wounded, bleeding uncontrollably, her breathing shallow and quick. I thought she and I were dead meat for sure. But I was wrong.

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“Vanny, I know you’ve got issues, but couldn’t you find your own therapist?” Damn, I thought, this competition thing with Vanny has gotten out of hand. First she gets Lisa, now she wants my shrink?

“Shut up Myg!” she snapped. I saw another showdown brewing. And it was, but not in the way I thought. Read more

I think I need to fire my therapist.

On her advice I went out job hunting. She said I have poor self-esteem and that if I become a contributing member of society, my black outs will go away. Well If that was the case, why the hell did I need that stupid blood test?

See, Doctor Moody always has some “intervention” in mind that involves me doing something I don’t want to do. All in the name of growth, reaching one’s potential, etc, etc, blah, blah who needs that crap? All I wanted was a way to stop waking up into someone else’s life. But I got a hell of a lot more than that. Read more

I can’t believe it–but it must be her. I’m so happy I could just burn!

After all these years of scouring, I’m sure I’ve found her–the blood test results from Dr. Altamura prove it. Silly girl, going for that test! She must have no idea of her lineage or she never would have gone.

I suppose then nobody has been in touch with her from the family–or if they have, they haven’t revealed themselves for who they really are.

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Well, now I don’t know what to think. I popped the disk in (luckily I kept that old floppy drive for sentimental reasons) and just couldn’t believe my eyes. It seems either Vanny’s been hitting the Absinthe too hard these days or something is really wrong with that girl. Here’s what she had to say.

My dear old friend,

The hunt is over.. forgive me.. for what I’ve become.. for what I’ve done.. for what I will do. Your time is up. You have to make a decision.

Your actions get too much attention from too much people. You won’t be able to see who is your friend and who is your enemy anymore. Everybody will only focus to use your fate to improve their own status, needs or plans.

You know that I am right with this. But at the same time you see that you can’t solve your problems alone.

I hunted you for quite some time now.. I am not proud of it.. but I was forced to do. Think Mygdala! Think! Remember every situation we shared.. I am the only one you can and should trust. Because I am the only one who will offer you a way out of all this!

Meet me at … Damn! They are coming.. I hear them… you will hear from me where you can find me..

V.

But, can I trust her?

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