Monthly Archives: March 2025

00460114

“Maker Space, Jack. And the Princess said Bimbo should be coming along soon. She’s working on it, she said.”

“I-I don’t like it as much as the old treehouse, Fink. Not as much room. A-and I don’t have all my stuff.”

“Princess said she’s working on that too.”

“Like: Who’s that old f-ck suppose to be up on the mantel place.”

“Jack!” reprimanded Jack’s human bro and bestie Fink about the cussing, but then started wondering too as he also stared at the aged, bearded man in the photograph…

…. who, in turn, stared at two books from his framed existence, each containing a 1000 pictures of the world around them, this Our Second Lyfe that has suddenly become Their Second Lyfe as well. Orders of Pinky Gumm.

“I mean… I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, pheh,” then said resigned Jack, knowing the Princess had a plan. She always did.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0114, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, Oooo, SG Park

00460113 (letting the butterflies loose)

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/07/30/00340113/

—–

“Soo, why are we back here again, Jack? Pink again?”

“Yeah,” responds Jack the Dogg, his 1/2 brother and also bestest friend in the world. Unless it’s Todd. “And you know what that means?”

“Errr,” went Fink, once more sloow to catch on.

—–

15 minutes later, after earning another F- on the new quiz.

“I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy!”

You certainly aren’t, thinks the newest iteration of Princess Pinky Gumm in Our Second Lyfe dominating above him but, of course, biting her tongue. Fink remains a powerful ally. And friend.

Now to deal with Art and Ed, she thinks; break the bad news to the duo so use to having their way up to this point. The buck stops here.

She looks to the sky and thinks of all the power she has. 319.

(to be continued)

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00460112

“Oh, and I also saw Hashima Island.”

“Where? Where??”

“No, silly. Not out *there*. In Japan. What’s out *there*?”

“Nothing I suppose,” Girtle replied to Wamshed, just back from an expensive, extensive trip to the Orient, with 3 continents taken in. But Hashima stood out for her. Ghost island. Bestie Girtle kept staring and staring above the pier just beyond the Night City Marina where they were eating breakfast and catching up with each other, thinking something would appear in the sun glared sky. Why would she think that? she wonders, and then returns her attention to her food and drink and conversation, thinking nothing more of the matter that day in April’s May.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0112, C2077, Heyworth

00460111

What are both Trump and Biden, the two latest presidents of these here present day United States, doing in downtown Night City ads almost a half century into the future? Probably an ad mod to the Cyberpunk 2077 game, I’m guessing, with the BD maker Lincoln having yet another US president’s name you’ll notice, hmm.

Just beyond the Biden ad pictured above we have equal amounts of red and blue pills all mixed up together in a storefront window. Democrats (Biden/blue) and Republicans (Trump/red)? Our US of A country split up to the detriment of both, I further speculate. Leading us to this here dystopian future, a game. So far.

Lincoln might know. He was shiny and new like a freshly coined penny in this BD, his first in the city. We will most likely return to him. No cents not to.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0111, C2077, City Center

00460110

—–

“There there, what’s the problem? Why are you crying?”

“I-I’ve lost my car key! (sob!) I don’t know how I’ll ever get back to my apartment without walking through a dangerous stretch (sniff) of town. My AAA membership has just run out,” she explained further. “Aa-and the taxi strike.”

“Calm down,” I say. “Tell me what happened.”

She pointed over the rail. “Down there. In the water (sob sob!). I was just reaching into my pocket for my phone… I shouldn’t have had my key out. I don’t know what I was doing! (sniff sniff sniff)”

“Okay, just relax. I’ll go get it.”

—–

—–

“Oh thank you SOO much! You’re a life saver… literally. I could have been murdered going home through those streets. And worse!

“Here. Let me give you something.”

“Just the bright smile on your face is reward enough, thanks,” I say to this.

“I insist. 500 eddies okay?”

—–

You’re a middle person, I think while walking up and checking the time on a fresh video (BD). Like the Gimp before. Like the Wellsprings monks more recently. “Hi,” I say to her. “Remember me?”

She turned to face me squarely. “Get away from me you creep,” she exuded with some venom, then returned to her phone. NPC, I think. Memories don’t continue from video to video, perhaps from within the same video.

“Down at the end of the pier. Remember?” I tried again, making her start tapping rapidly on her phone.

“Calling the police. NOW.”

“Okay, okay.” And I walked away. Back toward the pier, peering over it to see if I can catch another glimpse of that rock island. Something very important about it. Ghost.

(to be continued)

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00460109 (Sunamai T-shirt Boy (STB))

“I see you’re looking for something out in the bay.

“Well, so am I.”

“Pray tell what? A rock? That’s long gone. To get that kind of rock you’ll have to go to classic rock on the Morro Rock station. Run by Carolin. You know Carolin.”

“No.”

“Oh sure you do. Last photo-novel.”

“H-how–”

“Do I know? Because I’m *you*.”

—–

“Let me demonstrate (follow me).

“Middle again… that’s me — you — again. Just a head at first as the other me passes out of the scene.

“Then full on, another smoker. Smoking good looks wouldn’t you agree?

“And then, coming up behind me again, I pass the monks…

“… and come straight up beside yet another me. ‘You!’ I say. Exclamation point.

“I thank you for finishing my art in the park. I — we — can move on.”

(to be continued)

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00460108 (319)

That’ll be 4 bucks please,” said ramen shop attendant Jacwylin, extending her hand with the bill for the bills. She was also the manager of this small cyperpunk type shop, if it wasn’t Tammy (pause). No, I checked. Tammy isn’t projected to be in this here photo-novel, 46 in a series. So this remains Jacwylin. “You know,” she begins again, name settled on and free to dwell in the past now, “Blue Moon Kentucky sat on that very seat, ordered that very meal. Blue like you too.” She scrutinized the face more closely. “Nah,” she begged off. “You’re not her.”

“Of course I’m not her,” said the blue clad woman back. Still working for the Horns, the big bosses, although the boss boss Edward was the only one still around. Who was now also her boyfriend. Luckily for her, he doesn’t have a cleanliness obsession. He doesn’t mind a little dirty. “But,” she reconsidered, “that’s an interesting story, worth a follow up statement.” There. I just did it. Would she get the joke?

“Ha ha,” she started after a significant enough pause. “Hu hu hu, good one.” She got it. “But, *anyway*, Blue Moon… do you like her music? Do you prefer the Cracks or do you prefer her solo work? Some do.” She withheld the “like me,” part. Wanted to get the other’s opinion first.

“I’ve heard of ‘Keep on Shining.'”

“Yes yes. Good one.” Maybe a solo lover. Like herself. She’ll keep patient.

“And, let’s see, the one about suicide is certainly interesting. Can’t recall the name of that.”

Jacwylin couldn’t either in the moment. Oh yes, she thought. “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — she couldn’t remember if the last name of the single started with an E or an I, our first mandela effect in this here post (pause). I checked to make sure and, yes, it is so. The name Tammy remains a mistake and not an alternate reality.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0108, C2077, Nightsity

00460107

“I see you kneeling behind that curtain in there,” expressed passing businesswoman Pamela Taut, no time for tomfoolery today. Zoom meeting with an important client at 3 about a property deflated in value because of a 1000 year flood. Must be sharp; she wants that sale! Then this. “I say: expose yourself you troublemaker, you… *tart*” Come out, come out!” She only thought of her own name’s similarity with this taunt later.  When she herself was playing a maid to a big wig male’s cleanliness obsession — for a sale again, of course. “Bathroom next,” he said, knowing it was a mess because of the chaos. “Now!” “Yes sir,” she jumped. But it was all fake, just role play. Same with the person behind the curtain. She’d been ordered to sit there by another. No difference really at all.

We’ve seen this person before. Many times. She tires of hiding, wants to come into the light. This is about as close as I dare, focus on the foreground in the shot below, on the face of conspiracy nut Wanda to be specific, still listening to the imaginary (imaginary?) chattering of the mechanical (mechanical?) fish behind the bar. She knows they’ll analyze everything later on. Her friend Jenny sitting across the booth here has started calling her Wanda Fish, another taunt. Where will it end?

Right here. (to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0107, C2077, Nightsity

00460106 (Tin at ten)

“Shelley?” Wheeler started to answer Lexi’s question. “I don’t know. Wandered off into the prison surrounding us; lost in the maze that’s suppose to be a labyrinth, one way in and out. Time to make a switch; free myself from *that* kind of cage. Do you realize, Lexi, that she hasn’t changed her hair style since she was a kid? And those shoes. Kids as well. Keds!”

“I don’t care,” says Lexi back, stopped from dancing for a second. She’ll resume soon enough. “I love her still.”

“You can’t have her, Lexi. She’s… not in your league. She’s in the American, you’re in the National. If the Cincinnati Reds could play the New York Mets in the World Series then you might have a shot. But no sin in Cincinnati, if you catch my, um, lob. Out at home before the game even starts. Back in the pocket with the Bakers badge and all. You’re Mary Anne,” Wheeler summarized before her, still still. “Panama’s Ginger. But Shelley’s different — *I’m* different. And I set the rules. I’m tired of being the mother to a child that never grows up from top and bottom. You notice the change in *my* hair — I’m ready to dive back into the fire from the frying pan just above. Back to the dance. But first…

“… I have to let the butterflies free to do their work. Starting with the midriff, mind you. All Orange.”

Without further words, Lexi begins again.

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00460105 (Broadwater)

Edward knew he was a fictional character and decided to do something about it. Logical endpoint: Shelley’s mother Wheeler. Over on Omega.

“It’s about time,” she said from within, not looking up from her book. History of the continent. Fascinating.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/10/22/00350301/

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0105, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^