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Hippie Bowman

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    Breakfast Guru

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  1. At 9 AM SLT today March the 9th, I will be bringing the Wheatstone Bridge not quite live two man band to the Hippy Hole Stage. We will be bringing to you a little over an hour of Hippie tunes, Classic rock, and original Wheatstone Bridge tunes featuring myself Hippie Bowman and Rusty Johnson. Come and enjoy the music and this wonderful Hippy location. Everyone is welcome! I hope to see you all! http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Shadow Falls/139/184/24 Coldwater Dailey, proprietor
  2. 🎶 Join me in Second Life Sunday February 25th at 9 AM SLT (12 noon EST) for a delightful morning of music with the myself, Hippie Bowman and Rusty Johnson, with the Wheatstone Bridge not quite live two man band! I will be serenading you with a mix of originals and your all-time favorites! Tune in, turn on, and let the music take you for a ride! 🌐 Join us here at the Tea Garden: https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Laserlight/74/36/66 #Secondlife #LiveMusic #SundayFunday #MusicalMagic 🎉
  3. This goes out to all of you Second Lifers! You know who you are! This is my rendition of the classic story 'Twas the night before Christmas writen by Clement Clarke Moore. I have adapted the story for Second Life. I hope you enjoy it! 'Twas the night before Second Life Christmas 'Twas the night before SL Christmas, when all through the house Not a prim creature was stirring, not even a talking mouse; The stockings were rezzed by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Philip soon would be there; The prim babies were nestled and linked to their beds, While visions of cracker crumbs danced in their heads; And mamma in her flexies, and I in my chaps, Had just sat on poses for a long winter's nap, When out on the mega platform there arose such a clatter, I stood from my pose to see what was the matter. Away to the window I TP'd like a flash, Derezzed the shutters and unlinked the sash. The SL moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the environmental setting of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a scripted miniature sleigh, and eight scripted tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively with skill, I knew in a moment it must be St. Phil. More rapid than physical objects his coursers they came, And he IM'd, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Flasher! now, Lancer! now, Enhancer and Nixon! On, Vomit! on Stupid! on, Blender and Whitson! To the top of the prim! to the top of the wall! Now crash away! crash away! crash away all!" As dry leaves that before the Second Life wind fly, When they meet with an object, and mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of prim toys, and St. Philip too. And then, in my headphones, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little scripted hoof. As I held down the left arrow, and was turning around, Down the hollowed box chimney St. Philip came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his white flexie hair to his scripted boots, And his clothes had a texture, all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had rezzed on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a berry! His droll little mouth was drawn up with an AO, And the beard of his chin was as white as the textured snow; His scripted pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke particles encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round prim belly, That shook, when I clicked it like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a jerk of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, as he was not a talking prim elf, And rezzed things in all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his head, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rezzed; He TP'd to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight, Happy SL Christmas to all, and to all a good night!! On behalf of LadySue and I, I would like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday, and a awesome New Year! The Bowman and the Culpepper Family! Peace On Earth!
  4. Sitting here and pondering what I am thankful for. Many many things I am thankful for. A lot of it I take for granted and some I don't. The love of my wife and the friendship of an ex wife, that has grown over the years more than I could have ever expected. Plenty of good food and shelter. Clothes to wear. A good job that has provided for us over the years and then some! Good coffee. Good friends and good health. My Sons Alan and James that has grown up now. They now sees what it means to be a parent. Receiving more than perhaps we deserve. Having our cups overflowed with the things that really mater in life. Family, friends and blessings. For living in a place where we all have great freedom and liberty. To he able to express myself without fear of persecution. Most of us reading this are very lucky. A great deal of the world does not enjoy the things that we, that are most fortunate, take for granted. Food, shelter, clean water and the basics. I am very very grateful! Please take some time to think on the things you are thankful for, as we get ready to celebrate Thanksgiving. Post what you are thankful for here. Hippie! Happy holidays! Peace Hippie Bowman
  5. WTG Cinn! You can't live on stale pastries! /me sits down by the fire and enjoys some coffee with his friend!
  6. And that's what my makes this place so warm! BTW Maddy! I like Mondays now! Peace!
  7. Happy New Year! In the final month, December, we often find magic in other people, places and things. As the year comes to an end, open your heart and embrace whatever may come you way. Decide what you love and what you want to leave behind as you prepare to embark on a new year of life.
  8. Thank you my friend! I hope your holidays are fantastic! Peace ✌️
  9. Twas the night before SL Christmas, when all through the house Not a prim creature was stirring, not even a talking mouse; The stockings were rezzed by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Philip soon would be there; The prim babies were nestled and linked to their beds, While visions of cracker crumbs danced in their heads; And mamma in her flexies, and I in my chaps, Had just sat on poses for a long winter's nap, When out on the mega platform there arose such a clatter, I stood from my pose to see what was the matter. Away to the window I TP'd like a flash, Derezzed the shutters and unlinked the sash. The SL moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the environmental setting of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a scripted miniature sleigh, and eight scripted tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively with skill, I knew in a moment it must be St. Phil. More rapid than physical objects his coursers they came, And he IM'd, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Flasher! now, Lancer! now, Enhancer and Nixon! On, Vomit! on Stupid! on, Blender and Whitson! To the top of the prim! to the top of the wall! Now crash away! crash away! crash away all!" As dry leaves that before the Second Life wind fly, When they meet with an object, and mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of prim toys, and St. Philip too. And then, in my headphones, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little scripted hoof. As I held down the left arrow, and was turning around, Down the hollowed box chimney St. Philip came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his white flexie hair to his scripted boots, And his clothes had a texture, all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had rezzed on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like sculpted roses, his nose like a berry! His droll little mouth was drawn up with an AO, And the beard of his chin was as white as the textured snow; His scripted pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke particles encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round prim belly, That shook, when I clicked it like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a jerk of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, as he was not a talking prim elf, And rezzed things in all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his head, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rezzed; He TP'd to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight, Happy SL Christmas to all, and to all a good night!! On behalf of LadySue and I, I would like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday, and a awesome New Year! The Bowman Family! Peace On Earth!
  10. Good morning everyone and happy holidays! I know I have been away a long time. And all of you deserve an explanation. For many years I did the breakfast club. In the end I knew it had run it's course so I stepped down. Also beginning in 2011 I started Hippiestock. It was wonderful and I thought it had also run it's course. However Hippiestock is being reserected with the help of Owl and the many performers that played at Hippiestock. So January the 15 will start a new run. And I will be opening the event! In 2021 my son Mark passed away from COVID-19. LadySue and I were devastated. Both of us fell into a deep depression. The pain is deep and hard to ignore. Both of us are trying not to let our greif kill our joy. It is getting better but we believe the pain will never go away completely. After my son passed neither LadySue nor I had no desire to be in second life. A few months ago I sold the Lagrange Point Spaceport sim. I kept my premium account and have a linden home. So that is what is happening with me. Know this. I will always love each and every one of you. Nothing will ever change that. Also happy holidays to all of you. I will post my Christmas post here! Twas the night before SL Christmas, when all through the house Not a prim creature was stirring, not even a talking mouse; The stockings were rezzed by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Philip soon would be there; The prim babies were nestled and linked to their beds, While visions of cracker crumbs danced in their heads; And mamma in her flexies, and I in my chaps, Had just sat on poses for a long winter's nap, When out on the mega platform there arose such a clatter, I stood from my pose to see what was the matter. Away to the window I TP'd like a flash, Derezzed the shutters and unlinked the sash. The SL moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the environmental setting of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a scripted miniature sleigh, and eight scripted tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively with skill, I knew in a moment it must be St. Phil. More rapid than physical objects his coursers they came, And he IM'd, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Flasher! now, Lancer! now, Enhancer and Nixon! On, Vomit! on Stupid! on, Blender and Whitson! To the top of the prim! to the top of the wall! Now crash away! crash away! crash away all!" As dry leaves that before the Second Life wind fly, When they meet with an object, and mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of prim toys, and St. Philip too. And then, in my headphones, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little scripted hoof. As I held down the left arrow, and was turning around, Down the hollowed box chimney St. Philip came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his white flexie hair to his scripted boots, And his clothes had a texture, all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had rezzed on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like sculpted roses, his nose like a berry! His droll little mouth was drawn up with an AO, And the beard of his chin was as white as the textured snow; His scripted pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke particles encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round prim belly, That shook, when I clicked it like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a jerk of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, as he was not a talking prim elf, And rezzed things in all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his head, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rezzed; He TP'd to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight, Happy SL Christmas to all, and to all a good night!! On behalf of LadySue and I, I would like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday, and a awesome New Year! The Bowman Family! Peace On Earth!
  11. I am selling my region for 100000L. It is Lagrange Point and is a bought down region of 20K prims. Tier is 178USD.
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