Wanderer Extraordinaire

About

Hey there!  Welcome to this crazy little corner of the internet.  I’ll be your Second Life host, Hobo Redtail, SL user since July 10, 2015.

Now, before things get all strange, let me clarify a couple of things about my name.  It is was literal.  But I am not a bum, nor am I a tramp.

A hobo is a migratory worker or homeless vagabond—especially one who is penniless. The term originated in the Western—probably Northwestern—United States around 1890. Unlike “tramps,” who work only when they are forced to, and “bums,” who do not work at all, “hobos” are traveling workers.

I have to clarify that a lot, really. Ha…

In short, the world is my home and I find work wherever possible. Right now my place of employment is at Heathens Den, a newcomer to the Second Life club scene run by a bunch of maniacs, as owner, DJ, and occasional host.  It sports a space industrial sort of vibe and is both furry and human friendly.  We happen to be hiring!  Catch me in-world for details.

Find out a little more about it on our Tumblr.

My free time is spent at Club ALAS (or is that ALAS Station?) where a couple other Redtails work.

And I have made some pretty fantastic friends in my days here.

They’re my warren and my pack, which really only makes sense if I explain a little, doesn’t it?  I’m a rabbit, but I have this tail that’s kinda become my trademark.  See, it’s too long to be a rabbit tail and it wags too much to be one, too.  I dunno where I came from, exactly, so that just adds to the whole long-tail mystery.  I can also howl with the best of ’em.  I’ve stopped questioning it.  It’s too much fun to worry about and it’s not hurting me or anybody else.  I just try to enjoy it.   It turns out that I’m species-confused.

Alright, so I might be a shapeshifter.  Sue me.  (You might get a whole penny for your trouble.)

Anyway, there’s still a lot to learn. Why not come learn about it all with me?

Paws,
Hobo

PS:  Those clubs are for adults only.  Never be surprised to see someone wanderin’ around with their junk out…myself included if it’s called for.  I’m a host, after all.  Gotta please the patrons, right?  But we promise that there will be no funny business, and if I find out about it, there will be Hell to pay.

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