“Crazy Yoyo!” Yep, that pretty much sums this gal up. Relatively new to the Galaxy of the Old Repubic (GotOR) community (a member since Dec. 2 2005), she is forever vague, forever loca, and forever out of the loop! She is always, ALWAYS the last to know about things both online and in the Real Life (RL) and doesn’t always like to say exactly what she means or uses double-meanings more than she knows she does. What’s going on with the Sith? Ha! Don’t ask Yoyo; she hasn’t a clue! A lot of her characters share similar traits as she has in RL, which was completely unintentional on her part; it’s like her subconscious automatically did this for her. Hopefully, she can break away from this habit with her newest character Delphii Orla, a jumpy Amaran slave/novice mechanic, once she starts role playing (RPing) with her. She is known for creating not-so-brief histories for many of her characters, which some complain about, never read and just give her a thumbs up for anyways. Yoyo enjoys character interaction more than any other aspect of RPing, even the action. Boys gasp. Action is fantastically awesome, but only in moderation. (Think about it—the Jedi only fight so much. The rest of the time they are talking to other people, negotiating, bonding, getting all buddy-buddy or “keep from me, you fool, before I shoot you!”-ish, building/revealing character, basically. And you get, like what, two minutes of intense duels at a time? Something else has got to happen…) Yoyo’s had a couple of characters that never got utilized much or that she felt inadequate at RPing, so she has let, or is letting, those “die” by not RPing them. These are not included below, though. Yoyopogo likes to showcase her most updated, ongoing characters. Yes.
Yoyopogo (a.k.a. Yoyo, Pogo, Gogo, ogopoyoy, Kreia, Yogo, YOGOGAMOR, and probably some more she forgot) has kept one consistent screen name so far, unlike Monsieur Zack (:P) and, like others, plans to keep it that way for as long as she remains at GotOR. So what’s up with all the nicknames? She honestly has no clue. It really does seem like everyone calls her something different. No wonder why her sanity borders on its counterpart. No wonder it seems she has an identity crisis everyday. Anyhow, Yoyo doesn’t have any high-ranking characters, and that might be because she thinks they are overrated. Or maybe it’s because she’s afraid she might skrew something up majorly (yes, screw with a “k”; it lessens the impact of any other possible meanings). The world may never know. Yoyo’s sense of humor is rather ridiculous, if the author may say so, and is also usually one or more of the following: sarcastic, ironic, and/or cynical. Whoops, those are all synonyms. Let’s try that again: cynical, um…hm. Perhaps her humor is witty, which in a sense is still synonymous with humorous…So, Yoyo has this thing with foxes…it really is a long story. She really likes ellipses of the repetitive dot sort and, oh, if she were a dog, she’d be a dachshund, according to the notorious slacker Dazed and Confused, whom everyone calls Zep. Don’t look for his wiki link. It doesn’t exist and probably never will if he remains so notorious! Moving on!
The "Fo Realz" Yoyopogo
On August 18, 1988 (8-18-88, which is probably one of the coolest birthdays anyone could ever have besides 8-8-88) a child of all ironies was born in Akron, Ohio. She was African-American, but her last name was White. She ate eggs and drank coffee for breakfast as a child but stopped doing so as soon as she found out they were not cheese and chocolate milk, respectively. She grew up, started writing and eating with her left hand and then learned to do just about everything else with her right because, indeed, it was a right-handed world. Her last name was the first word of one of her first grade spelling tests and all the kids tried to cheat off of her because, that day, she was the genius. After moving to the Arizona desert (the perfect place for all dark-skinned people to dwell and, literally, “soak up the sun”), her parents soon named their household “The Whitehouse” and even went as far as putting out a greeting from “The Royal Family” on their answer machine (which is ironic because people of the Whitehouse aren’t considered to be ‘royalty,’ at all). She was black and did not like to sing or dance. She was black yet learned to speak “white.” She went back to Ohio for a visit and no one could understand her. She learned to play piano by ear, learned to write down the music on paper, but she did not learn to read and play piano music at the same time. Instead, she took up the viola yet strongly desired to play the cello, ever since fourth grade. She grew up to look much younger than she really was and, unexpectedly, began attracting the oldest men ever—men in their thirties, forties, and even fifties; she became paranoid of this and now has a battalion of black, yes black, Canadian squirrels that “have her back,” just in case (and one white one for diversity). She went to Arizona State University and became a Sun Devil. She was rear-ended three times in two and a half years, which in all three cases she was not at fault, each accident getting progressively less fatal in nature; somehow she survived the most fatal of them all in which the whole backside of her car crumbled up to the point of the back of her seat. She hung out in a circle of friends in which all combinations of girls and guys in the group dated each other, excluding her. She accumulated the RL nicknames of “T,” T-bone, Tejana, T-savana and La Fawnduh. Miss White now faces the world with wide eyes as a college freshman majoring in interior design, wondering whether or not to pursue an education in music composition in the future, which older creepy guy will approach her next, and what car will be the next to kiss her rear bumper goodbye. Who knows what wonderfully ironic things will happen next! O_O