Monthly Archives: May 2025

May 31, 2025 · 8:56 am

00470107

Pretty sure it starts with an Arrow somewhere in or near Nashville, Tennessee. Pointing directly to Red Row 1 mile north. Let’s zoom in (again!).

—–

It wasn’t a *spider* in Red Row I was looking for, despite these 8 shoes found on some hick house stairs. Red Row? Red *Herring* (!). No, it was a *dog* named Spider (thanks 4th human within with the remaining 2 feet, *POP*). Found just down the road — or row — being attacked by a bird. Bird dog, then? Chihuahua, I discovered.

“Get away from my dog, bird!” I called from the ’57 Chevy Kenny was driving. “*My* spider dog! *MY* SPIDER DOG, SHOOOOO!!” *POP*

Better.

I kill my now disposable chauffeur with my final bullet (*POP*) and take the wheel, leaving room for the dog in the vacated passenger seat, body dumped in some bushes at this conjunction of Red Row…

… and, er, Red Row?

Anyway, I stick Kenny’s body into the bushes better and head back to the lawyer’s office with the dog to collect my hard earned reward.

(to be continued)

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May 30, 2025 · 8:49 am

00470106 (red = dead)

My old haunt NWES City: devolving and most likely soon ceasing to be.

For example, the interesting trailer park across the road from Moe’s old bar: gone. Moe’s former building with the red square now in front: empty. Probably has been for a while, rent due who knows when.

The 4 (red yellow green blue) into 5 butterflies (add: orange) weren’t fulfilled, pheh. Could they have ever been? I think in a probable reality this is so. Everything Collagesity went into everything NWES City, smaller to larger, and made a new whole. Subways were completed. The, ahem, downtown elements of the burg were better balanced by the cleaner uptown ones. A clearer core center was established.


Hehehe.

But I haven’t given up on it quite yet. Or at the very least Wheeler hasn’t.

(to be continued?)

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May 30, 2025 · 7:55 am

00470105 (the end of the Gray-Green or Green-Grey perpetual war)

Who comes out on top?

Doesn’t matter any more.

Screen captures from Röckët Stähr’s epic “Death of a Rockstar” fully animated rock opera here again.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt13833798/

See ROCKSTAR tag for more!

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May 26, 2025 · 2:18 pm

00470104

“Ooh, the city lights of Juho over there are *soo* pretty (!). Good to be home.”

Eddy pivots in his seat at the closed Asian Fusion Restaurant to take a gander. “Those blank white trees over there: not so much. Blight,” he spits out. “Our Second Lyfe trying to be more than it can or should. Leave the old but still quite functional game alone, you *Limeys* (!).”

“Oh Eddy,” says now red haired Shelley, back from her sabbatical to who knows where. Ready to surprise the parents. Who forgot she even existed. “Soooooo negative.”

“I’m *not* negative. Just a realist. Like you returning here. Your mother put you in *prison* the last time because of her jealousy. She says you’re a child but she knows better.”

Shelley wasn’t so sure. Besides, in her eyes she still had her freedom while trapped away inside Rockaway Beach Penitentiary. It’s all about perspective. She even wrote a song about the paradox (see: post 01).

“Listen, it’s 4 in the morning,” she decided to say. “We’ve been up all night. We’re tired, we’re wore out from the journey.”

“From who knows where,” Eddy, her Edward tacked on.

“Oh you know where, you new husband you — Silly.”

And suddenly he did. New Island of course. Escaped from mainland prison via that route, that direction. The chasers couldn’t get to her that way. The bridge between the two became broke and wouldn’t open back up.

Refuge. But with a witch in control now of everything, ugh. She’d still have to pay a price.

(to be continued)

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May 26, 2025 · 6:30 am

00470103

Going to see the New Island maker and hoping it’s not Mid Hazel again, SHIVERS. Despite the location names involved here (Hazel, Hazelhurst (Ruins)). I’m taking him up on his invitation cited above from “The New Island Relocation Guide,” found online for free!

Just over there in that house to the left, he said about this picture from the guide which I’ve somehow managed to get inside of, ha. He also indicated that the collection of structures to the right where the railroad leads is the village of Hazel. Definitely avoiding that; no use in taking any chances at this late stage (!).

—–

I notice the geraniums, I notice the succulents. This is definitely the right place. NERVOUS still.

Knock knock knock.

An older gentleman in a Hawaiian aloha shirt with paint stained hands soon opens the door. Relief, PHEW!

“Can I help you, Miss?”

Shelley wakes up before they can talk further. An explanation of what’s actually going on from the creator will have to wait until another night, another dream. Or maybe a series of dreams — that would be cool.

“Till then,” she can hear him say as he retreats back inside. A painting, she also picked up on. He’s working on a painting of….. this she couldn’t resolve.

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May 25, 2025 · 4:31 pm

00470102 (new lighting)

“Aren’t you going to finish your triangles dearest?”

“In a minute,” answered Sarah Tucker to on again off again lover Al, watching the newest storm roll in from the many windowed establishment, orange in color and violet violent in nature. She wondered if the posing giants outside would have to save their ass. Again.

Nawt Vaya’s Vortexville. A weird place to live. We’ll come back soon for more out of this world fun.

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May 24, 2025 · 3:51 pm

00470101 (Blow Boy)

She sang about freedom in this New Island venue where she married one of the Edwards/Eddys early that day in late April’s May, the new island husband joining her on congas. Then she sang about prison, the 7 reduced to 6 and 6 and 6.

I’ve seen her before I believe. Called her up but it was the wrong number. Killed and beheaded by the Witcher but rose back like the Alabama Phoenix, monstrous fangs in their appropriate slots across the inner mouth, SMILE.

She gets away by being in her own sphere.

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May 19, 2025 · 2:27 pm

00460616 (bookends)

—–

There was only 1 thing to do to stop the stabbings and knivings and whatnot and save everybody involved, Greg Ogden knew. Go back to the beginning of this here photo-novel, NOT rescue the Tobor robot that represents Peter Bergmann with the two n’s from the waters and let him drown in peace in the ocean, his body and thus the mysterious story of his last days in Sligo, Ireland never to be found. “Center Core Never More,” he chanted on the shoreline as the pushing began. Deeper, deeper… over the hands… heart… head…

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2025 EARLY”!

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May 19, 2025 · 2:27 pm

00460615 (final say)

I first saw her close up on this BD walk to the left. I noted the ring on her hand that held her phone. Ring Woman we’ve called her, already mentioned several times in this here blog and attached photo-novels as a person of interest in our Cyberpunk 2077 version of Night City (Nightsity).

Approx. 1:22 later we run directly into her — she being an NPC of course and, like the great majority of her kind, having multiple versions of herself manifested around town. I noted here she was holding a can, although I couldn’t make out the label. Only that it was red, as if highlighting itself. And… as I’m checking, we can’t see the ring in this case — ring finger glitchily hidden in the can it seems, hmm.

And then 1:23 later there she is again on her phone as we pass her to the right this time. Since these passings happen at equidistant intervals, you’ll notice, I like to see them as Right, Center, Left. More highlighting of the encounters.

Then the last time I see her on this walk is about 3 minutes later as a victim of a hit and run accident shockingly, writhing in pain on the pavement as other NPCs around her keep to their own business, not helping. Only I pay any attention. But it was too late.

I bend down as I hear her say something — last words. “Can……. of…….” Then she was gone, the soul departing and the body convulsing no more.

“Worms,” I finish for her as I hear sirens in the distance.

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May 19, 2025 · 2:26 pm

00460614 (Windsong the 4th)

Guyd had smelled it for a while with her more sensitive nose even though Rebl hadn’t heard anything with her sharper ears because of the masking water portal sounds, Benny Right Horn’s plan all along. The same smell as with the dog-man before on the tracks. He was off the tracks… and close! They dare not move from their secret room in the caves. The Mother Ship had been alerted to the danger. Should be arriving in, let’s see, 3 weeks. 3 weeks! Not enough time! It will be the end of time literally for them now, they feared, they knew!

Then Rebl heard. Not a horrible thing on the radio this time like w/ the bombing of New York in photo-novel 17 but from beyond one of the two rock walls that protected this room, left and not right. But what’s direction in a cave system like this? So let’s call it right…

… as in Benny Right Horn. Right outside after learning of the secret passage from Windsong Fairy, left bleeding out in the portal stream after a scream — that Rebl picked up on. Attracted by the guitar of course, which Benny played splendidly this morning after warming up quietly all night. She had to show up. She had to proposition again. Like with Douglas (successful), like with Carolin (not successful but she’s still working on it — *was* working on it). Benny knew she couldn’t resist. He’d get the information out of her just like he did with Big Ass Franz down at the bar. Both dead, it seems. Benny had to make sure Franz didn’t contact the cat-people to warn them. Same with Windsong Fairy — couldn’t take a chance. And here he was. And there they were: trapped. Does this particular photo-novel have a happy ending? Or a tragic one? Only several more posts to find out!

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