Hi Everyone!
There appears to be an issue with getting into the chat room at the moment. The site we've attached is showing a "Flash policy problem" message after you put in your user name and is not allowing anyone to login.
As I understand it, the problem is that there are actually many webchat servers and the one we've connected with is having an issue.
However, this *is* a way for you to login if you still want to get into the ravishu chat.
Go to https://www.rizon.net/chat and use the following settings.
Nicname: your ravishu username
Channel: #ravishu
Auth: Identify to NickServ
Password: your password
I hope to see you there.
--
Eljorn
It's osort of like a back door into chat. I have been
accused of being a "back door' girl anyway, so I'll
have to hide this away with the other stuff I use when I
want to be badd.
Butthe "bsck door girl" stuff is a complete misunderstanding.
It started like it always does when I was little, It's the
fault of my Carholic upbringing, The nuns at Scared Heart
taught me that when I was tempted to do bad stuff, like grab
candy in the check out line when Mom wasn't looking. When I
was tempted, the nuns taught me to say, "Get Thee behind me,
Satan!"
I'd be at the store wirh Mom, you know, the litle blond girl
in the basket with the eggs and milk, and we'd go down the toy
aisle and I'd see something and get tempted, and I'd do what
the nuns said, I'd say, "Get The behind me Satan!" I was six,
and had a six year old's shrill voice you could hear from one end
of WalMart to the other, and people would tuen and look. Finally
mom was like, "Don't say that, honey." I thought that meant I
could fo ahead and grab the candy in the check out aisle, but it
didn't mean that.
So anyway, I grew up, kinda-sorta, and went off to college. So
I was rolling around on a mattress at the Tappa Kegga Brew house,
and the guy was way hot nnd I was pretty peaked on Smirnov and
Cannabis, so I wasn't exactly myself. I knew I was being tempted, so I
said, "Get thee behind me Satan," like I did when I was little in
the candy aisle. I remember saying it, but I think it came out more
like, "From behind, you Devil!"
So later, like the next morning, we were at Waffle House having
soggy pancakes drenched in butter and syrup. He was like, "you sure
are perverted, Jamie! I love it! How'd you get that way?
I was going to tell him the story, about the nuns and the UMinn baller
who taught me to do anal in tenth grade, you know, but my mouth was
full, and there was another bite of pancake already on the fork.
"It's a 'Jamie' thing," I replied. "You wouldn't understand."
Love,
Tink