From to-day's chess tournament. The winner, and so Queen for a day, was Celia, the co-owner of my Queen Alice Chess Club, an incredible player from Belgium. We tied her to the Wicker Man and burned her alive in offering to the goddess of the fields.
She's a good sport.
Let no-one tell you putting together a chess tournament is easy, even a Second Life chess tournament. I meant to spend an hour setting up for it last night but spent four hours and then more time this morning. We only ended up with six players and about fifteen spectators, which is about what I expected. I lost count of donations coming in for the American Cancer Society, though, which is probably a good sign.
The boards I set up last night ended up not working, the server connected to them having crashed. As luck would have it, someone was there eager to supply new boards. Otherwise things went off without a hitch. I look forward to a good harvest.
Twitter Sonnet #503
Triangular larynx ranches rope tongue.
After burn lightsabre toothpaste sighs smoke.
Candy pork rinds make a disgusting lung.
Gingham becomes the stranded blonde cowpoke.
Dissolve, bring back towels, distant pool God.
Animosity coats animal crack.
Never snort the cocaine grains numbered odd.
Oh, yeah, like it's really hard to keep track.
Galvanised narcs disrobe in poppy fields.
Alienated gnats tremor in space.
Banana barbarian the peel wields.
Kidneys slowly dissolve the granite ace.
An orange apple centres the four fingers.
A crude shape of ash in shadow lingers.