Monthly Archives: April 2025

00460315

Wheeler first heard the term Blue Balls while on the toilet reading about it in a conveniently placed local history mag. Being an excellent writer because of all those professor papers, Charlene “The Punk” Brown had no problem getting an article published — with permission from her sometimes lover and owner of the actual (tape) object Emily New Moon of course. As it turns out, the name originates from the Blue Balls Hotel, built more than two hundred years ago and which stood on the southwestern corner of town, right where the ice cream vendor Newt and she were eating at just several days back. Make that several weeks back as I’m checking. The builder, John Wallace — by chance the father of Builder Bob often noisily working on those pipes just outside Emily’s video store to her irritation — hung a blue ball out front, calling it “The Sign of the Blue Ball”. Locals soon began calling the town Blue Ball after the inn, which soon turned into Blue Balls as another ball was added to the first when no one was looking or paying attention.

But wait there’s more. The town’s name has a suggestive second meaning according to the 2nd paragraph of that article, identical to the slang term “blue balls,” which refers to, according to Charlene’s text, “the sexual condition of temporary testicular and prostate fluid congestion due to prolonged and unsatisfied sexual excitement.” After an initial leak by Marg “The Town” Gossiper, word spread quickly. A town meeting was speedily organized, a new name demanded. “Well, if not Blue Balls, then what!?” George “The Grill” Foreman called from in back of the rowdy, crowded room on the second floor of what soon became the town hall building, prompting mumblings of “What are we going to call this burg?” all around. No one could come up with a replacement name. And thus they settled on The Burg for lack of creativity or any other option. “Call it what it is,” finished Tom “The Surface” Smith. Oh, and then they all went over and burned down John Wallace’s Blue Balls hotel along with its offensive sign to seal the deal.

Wait! More. Left in the ashes of the catastrophe was a fireproof safe holding the most valuable of John’s valuables (he had many). And in that safe amongst diamonds and rubies and gold bars and gold bonds and the like was found the actual reason for the establishment’s appellation, a sex tape to be short, starring a young, novice actress in the field soon to become a much much bigger name in another. “And the name of that young actress,” Charlene finished part 01 of her promised 2 part article, “is none other than, get ready! (to be continued)”

*Fascinating* read, *friend*, Wheeler sarcastically and playfully thought about the cliffhanger while putting down the mag beside the toilet and finishing her business here. Now to get over to town hall and see what she’s facing in her 1st day of managing this here crazy town… *burg*!

But the subject would not go away, hmph. An envelope labeled “Paradise Found?” with a map of a certain Pennsylvania county all marked up inside laid atop the mail heaped up on her desk that morning, big pile courtesy of outgoing and not-giving-a-damn-on-her-last-day Electra. Sent by Charlene of all people. “Come see me,” indicated a handwritten note also within, along with the address of her records store down in Downtown (this was Uptown). Like Wheeler didn’t know that bit of information already, ha. And so on what she planned to be at least a 2 hr. 1st day lunch break that’s exactly what she did.

Blue Ball here on the map and not yet Blue Balls, you’ll notice. That might be a key — we’ll see.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0315, Jeogeot, Pennsylvania, The Burg

00460314

They put her up in a motel across from City Hall where she’d be working most of the time. She took Electra’s room, who, being the former mayor of this here burg, had left the scene for parts unknown, perhaps back to her original home in the Sansara continent’s snowy region. She left behind an assortment of, here, little used shawls, coats, and toboggans in this much more temperate climate of middle southern Jeogeot, so hasty she was to get out of town. Disgraced (!). She didn’t even say goodbye to her kids Wolvie (originally: Bert) and Charlene, since she hadn’t been on real speaking terms with them since they started dating the same person. Wolvie she wasn’t as mad at. But *Charlene* — how dare she date a another girl. Now it became really dirty, this threesome. She wondered if they did it that way — all 3 together I mean. Emily had enough such tapes at her disposal that they could get ideas. In fact as she was thinking about it she’d bet money on it, perhaps up to 10.

Back to Wheeler and the present. We’ll deal with Electra and the consequences of leaving her children behind later. Right now there was only a bed in her room, a small dresser, a Gustav Klimt painting print called “The Dancer” from his late period, and that’s it. She logically wondered about closet space for her many clothes she’d recently bought on the marketplace, discount mind you, because you can find so many cheap there, especially older models (she doesn’t mind retro; thinks it’s got a strong future). Not living in the shadow of her locked-in-childhood looks daughter, she can experiment, mix and match blouses, skirts, and shoes and such. She’s kind of living the life, come to think of it. And all this mayor stuff is just for play. She’ll invite Newt over as soon as she fixes up the room to her standards. And then perhaps think about a larger occupancy for the both of them. If it comes to that. 1st “proper” date tomorrow beyond just the marriage and attached rendezvouses. Not ice cream this time but an actual meal in an actual, pretty upscale restaurant. More details very soon.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0314, Jeogeot, The Burg

00460313

She thought she’d go back to the beginning of the road, where she started her story in this here Burg of the general Nawt Vaya region of the Jeogeot continent of the Western Hemisphere of virtual Our Second Lyfe. A call, I believe. No, perhaps a calling, as in a profession. She was always bright, super bright in fact. The unusual drew her attention. Cryptozoology was eventually the chosen study. She’d be a professor, occasionally publish articles and present papers and have a rather easy life of it as more a skeptic on the subject than a believer per common public opinion. Then the call — yes, a call was also involved, as in phone. Someone dialed all the numbers except 4, which would instead connect you to The Moon. “Hallo?” she said from her faculty desk next to the faculty lounge whose thin walls enabled her to keep up with all the local faculty gossip. Dr. Brown dating Dr. Green to the chagrin of Dr. Blue? All in a day’s listening.

“It’s me. Wolvie.”

“*Wolvie*. You old dog. Hadn’t heard from you since–”

“Lester’s Bay, I know. I ran away, sorry.”

“You ran away as a *dog*. Dude, what gives?”

“I’m… not who I seem.”

“I *gathered*.”

“Anyway. Charlene. I need some help. Something in your department.”

“Tell me about it, bro of mine.” She knew it was one of those loose ends in her life that eventually had to be tied up. Her own flesh and blood brother a shapeshifter! But academia called and she put such psychic phenomena out of her mind. She had grades to worry about, peer pressure, etc. She was young in her position, with tenure a fur piece down the road.

“Bigfoot,” he just blurted the name out, which he knew would catch her attention. “Sighted in your vicinity.”

Her vicinity, let’s see. Yes I guess this would have to be Nawt Vaya State University, then, hmm. Interesting. Perhaps a strong Psychics department. Or maybe that’s Physics. Anyway, the link had been made, the one between Charlene and Wolvie her brother, not Psychics and Physics. Although maybe that fits in too.

“Give me a location,” she cited rather mechanically, more a professor’s standard tone in this dog eat dog world of general college academia, especially for a female professor who, by default, had more to prove.

He did more than that. He sent her a picture. “Bigfoot!” she cried aloud, giving Dr. Black a start from his faculty lounge chair just beyond the wall. “So it’s real.” And just down the road from her in that Nawt Vaya underwater tunnel, she observed.

She understandably took the rest of the day off to investigate. Which eventually landed her on the doorstep of Roberts and Franklin in one of those 2 locations shown before, just as Wolvie planned. Charlene would do the choosing for him, as it turned out. Should have seen it coming.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0313, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya, South Lake, The Burg

00460312

“There she is, Emily. The new mayor.”

“*Not* the same as the old mayor,” replied Emily, trying not to look behind her. It was hard. And what was all that butterfly, um, *gear* she was wearing? But it was just all part of her power. She couldn’t help asking aloud, though. She leans over, and says not far above a whisper: “Butterflies?”

“All part of the power; perks of the job,” responded Charlene. Knew it.

“Who would *want* that?” Still leaning, still just above a whisper.

“I hear ya. But…” she decides to say since they were leaning in to each other, being more secretive. “What about Wolvie?”

“What *about* Wolvie?” Emily says.

“You know, because he’s, ahem, the mayor’s son. Like I’m the mayor’s daughter. *Old* mayor. And *Shelley*.”

“Shelley’s not in this story,” shot back Emily New Moon, tired of hearing about the old. New is the thing now. And Wheeler fits right in, she thinks. She’s tired of the mother-daughter-son talk, the Unholy Triangle. Speaking of which…

—–

“I wish, Edward, that you’d be more sympathetic to my plight. I’m *married*.” Edward, her Ed, was in danger of fading away himself under her new butterfly power and he knew it. Wheeler had to disappear in order for him to even been seen atall in this setting. He had no other choice than to wait in the background, biding his time. At the backwards flowing waterfall.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0312, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, South Lake, The Burg

00460311 (3Ms)

“Are we keeping you up, Ms. Wilson?”

“Oh. *Sorry*.” Wheeler quickly moved her feet off the table, sat up straight. She realized she’d made perhaps a grave mistake falling asleep at the employment assessment meeting here in The Burg. But it was all part of the play, the fun and games. None of this really mattered except *as* in a play. “I’ve been, ahem, sleeping in my car lately,” she tried to excuse her pretend drowsiness. “After I left my last job.”

“And, let’s see, that’s as a maid, I see. Interesting job description. All sorts of tasks — laundering, ironing, vacuuming, window cleaning, in a, quote unquote, semi-aquatic setting? Can you explain further?”

Yes, it was a skybox partially filled with water. My 2 feet were always wet, she started the joke she’d prepared beforehand. Make that 3-4 feet since the water went that high, ha ha.”

Wanda Wilma Willa Brown Halter didn’t laugh or even smile. “I’ll just add to my notes: owner fetish,” which Wheeler knew would be pretty correct. She knew she was always being looked over. “So… why did you choose The Burg to come to after this, Ms. Wilson? Your old job was in the upper east central lower part of Nautilus, which is a virtual hemisphere away from here.”

“I have a friend here,” she lied or pretended. “Charlene Brown, er, just Charlene Brown. You may even be related. I couldn’t help noticing your Brown middle name on your card.”

“Charlene Brown and I are *not* related,” she returned quite firmly. Charlene was Downtown, she (Willa): Uptown. The two sets of townspeople which include the two sets of Browns try not to mix. Clean and Dirty was another way she thought of them. Ms. Wilson here, she thinks, seems to fall into the Downtown category too despite the maid cleaning background. She’d deduced, correctly, there was a dirty aspect to that too. Friends with Charlene who’s also friends with fellow Downtowner Emily New Moon the smut store manager — that also fits. Sounds like the pay was for *show*.

And this time, she did crack a smile. She thought of Wheeler Wilson’s leg tattoos as well, the blue and red fish making their way up the right one to who knows where. She imagines a homecoming fish bowl for the 2 on her stomach for some reason. Reinforcement of The Core.

The meeting ended with Willa determining the only job Wheeler was qualified for was the just vacated mayor’s position, highest actually being lowest in this here Burg. Straightening her hem so you couldn’t follow her fish too high, she sat up and (reluctantly?) shook Willa’s hand to seal the deal. Mayor Wheeler Malone Wilson she is. Again.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0311, Jeogeot, Nautilus, The Burg, Upper Austra^

00460310

Wolvie investigates an old Bigfoot location and finds it intact.

Along with the associated Roberts and Franklin Private Eye Investigators Ltd. in not one but two locations.

He’ll have to make a choice soon. ‘Nother one.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0310, Cable Isle, Chilbo^, Jeogeot, Midlands, Towerboro

00460309

It was like the old days for Wolvie (=Bert), staring at bamboo from the perfect spot 108 108 108, triply beautiful. Not Shelley any more doing her moves on the bamboo yoga mat but Wheeler, mother having reabsorbed the child in section one of this here current photo-novel, just this morning named for her. He’d seen her again last week at the convenience store he manages over near Juho. She knew that he knew and he knew that she knew. Then: winked out. Gone. Like she was never there. And perhaps she wasn’t (*knew* I was going to add that, didn’t you).

—–

“Wolvie’s gone. VHS tape still in there. Let’s just look at it. I want to know why Blue Moon wants to buy all existing copies so bad. How, aherm, *bad* could it be?”

“Double anal?” guessed Emily who didn’t even know if that was a thing. And I suppose she’d know, since she runs the store. So let’s say she was jesting.

“Could be at least double, as in 3some,” speculated Charlene further. Charlene the Punk. Not seen in these here photo-novels since (as I’m checking… checking…) 31 really, minus a cameo appearance or two. Pre-retirement, then. But we also know that Charlene is actually Fern in the past. Or another timeline — something. The two can be lined up and made as one is what I’m saying. If that, once more, is actually a “thing”.

They both crowded into the tiny viewing room meant for one, setting aside the chair to make space. Plus… well, neither wanted to sit in that chair now.

“It’s just static,” Charlene complained.

“Keep looking,” urged Emily, knowing secondary and then primary letters would form out of the nothingness. Because this was a special tape, very much so. I to E to T to L and done. You get your money’s worth.

“Yes, here they come.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0309, Jeogeot, Juho, The Burg

00460308

“Well. Here we are.” And then he went in.

I’m scared, Bimbo thinks, hesitant to do the same and remaining outside. Do I really want to know how this works? Will I look at Fink Humann in a different way after this, a different light? Maybe it’s best–”

“Are you coming or are you not?” Stanley poking his head back out of the store’s door.

Cooommming, she thought. That’s the problem. That’s not what her type does, she’s found out. Nor his.

—–

But for Blue Moon Kentucky, seen here searching in vain for anything else besides that one solo album a bit earlier in the day as record store owner Charlene the Punk looks on smugly: no problem as it turns out.

And that’s when the whole scene climaxed. At the video store. Special viewing room as the static on the TV turned into something else, something Bimbo had never seen. And never wanted to see again.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0308, Jeogeot, The Burg

00460307

“Hi Bob. I guess you *saw*.”

“Yup. Took her long enough to get here.”

“Tell me about it. How’re the pipe repairs going?”

“Slow too. Funds running out in town I guess you’ve heard. Mayor’s going to hold an emergency meeting next week.”

“Yeah I heard.” Of course she’s heard. She’s dating both the mayor’s daughter and mayor’s son at once. She gets gossip in both ears at night. But… she must make a decision soon. Which side of Mother’s ocean she likes to collect the shells from.

“Welp, better get back to it. While we have the money.”

“Right. Just going down to see Charlene. Be back in a moment. You try to do your work a little *quieter* out here, he he he.”

“Ho ho,” says Bob, starting to drill a 2″ bore hole in a sewer line. But she was serious. Please the f- be a little *quieter* out here, she begs internally. And… hurry the f- up with these repairs why don’t you. If funds are running out, shouldn’t you be doing double time out here? But maybe she’s not thinking straight because of the noise. Anyway…

“Byyye.”

—–

“Have you heard, Charlene?”

“About the town meeting? Sure sure. I’ll be there with bells on I suppose.”

“NO. *She* came.”

“She?”

“Yeah, you know. HER.”

“Umm… oh, you mean Blue Moon Kentucky the so called pop idol. Yeah she stopped in the shop here looking for the video store. But she couldn’t help checking out her section over there to see what I’d stocked before she left. Not much — just 1 album from her solo period. That’s the only stuff I can even stand from her. I think she was kind of wearing a bit of a scowl when she left, ha.”

“But, Charlene, the *plan*. She knows that I know and I know that she knows.”

“So you told her?”

“NOooo. It was just a look,” Emily tried to explain.

“A look,” Charlene said rather skeptically.

“Yeah. A look. She knows. I know.”

“Hmm.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0307, Jeogeot, The Burg

00460306

There she f-ing is in the flesh ha, thinks Emily New Moon at her counter beside the static filled TV. She likes to have it on with the sound turned at least low just to help drown out the city noise outside. Sometimes it’s bad out there, sometimes not so much. But she likes to keep it on anyway, just in case.

She rehearses her lines as Blue Moon mills around, trying to seem interested in the other tapes. But she only wants the one, she knew. 49 of 50 she has already. And she’s tracked down the 50th and last to this town, this store most likely, since it’s the only video rental one in this population place merely known as The Burg. Here: Downtown, its seedier side. Up there where it’s quieter most of the time: Uptown, where Emily *wished* she worked. But L.A. won the job at the ice cream vendor over her because she’d presented some papers at some national art conference or another, didn’t matter. *She’s* written things too. Just not published or presented stuff. Blue Moon milling about over there trying to seem distracted will know one day too, she thinks while continuing to observe and mentally rehearse. “‘Blue *Balls* Kentucky’, hmm — interesting — let me see,” and she’ll pretend to type the name into her database, pretend to look at results, pretend that the tape isn’t on the list. Blue Moon’s one and only porno, 50 copies extant. She has 49. But dammit if Emily *New* Moon is going to let her have 50. The blue fades to black right here in this town, this store. She’ll reach a dead end and it’ll nag at her the rest of her short lived days, Emily thinks with some satisfaction. Because she knows it’s worth a gold mine. And she, as it turned out, has cornered the market, ha ha ha. He he. Ho.

Here she comes. Steel yourself, Emily! You’ll be as famous as her soon, maybe even bigger than her — no need to be daunted. New Moon rising.

“I-I’d like to inquire about a tape,” she begins rather timidly. Like she doesn’t belong there. And she doesn’t, thinks Emily. Neither of us.

“Name?” she say as matter-of-factly as possible given the moment.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0306, Jeogeot, The Burg