🎵If you want to get to heaven🎵
🎵You got to raise a little hell🎵
Daily Archives: November 17, 2025
00480516 (continuation/fulfillment (opposite side of the Alamo (the other hand)))
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0516, GTA
00480515 (red means stop)
The BD was over as Terrance Sr. took off her red dress at 12 and turned back into a man, ball over. I pulled the rig off my head, sat up. STB man, I recognized early on, basically at the start of it all. I must put this down in my blog!
—–
Ahh, *exactly* what I need,” thinks Philip in one of his more recent dreams as he spots it coming toward him. He then positions himself directly in front of the approaching red El Camino, freshly entering his hometown of GTAV’s Sandy Shores from the east, daring it to hit him. It screeched to a halt — big mistake, should have just plowed right through the him like a speeding bullet or something.
Philip goes to the door, opens it, drags the passenger out on the road, debates whether to smash his head in but decides not to as he has more important matters to deal with today, takes control of the wheel…
… leaving Albertville M. Spaghettiboro by way of Stockholm and Lima coughing and wheezing in the smoke of his spinning tires and belching exhaust pipe. “Little Hell here we come!” he cries about the destination on the opposite side of the Alamo Sea from Sandy Shores as the landscape wizzes by him — directly across from SS, actually. Some people call it Heaven but Philip knows the truth because you have to raise a Little Hell first, like a child to an adult. All children are spawns of Satan, he knew. Like 7th Devil up in the castle perpetually holding the bowl of patriot soup that stands in for a cement pond. Or something — Frank explained the whole 4 string alignment resulting from Mouse’s diabetic fit the other day to him but his brain didn’t retain all that much. All he thinks of is pleasure, what’s good for *moi*. Which is why he had to, in the end, be killed. By Frank or Mikie, didn’t matter that much. Death to Philip Strevor was all that both could think of. The Id to their Ego and Superego respectively must *go*. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0515, GTA
00480514
He was shouting at me as soon as I went out on the balcony. I was just thinking recently that I rarely see anyone in Nightsity above street level. And then here he was, just standing over there, a sticky outy thumb situation.
“Hey mo- f-cker! Do me a big big favor and bring over my clothes to me! Right over there!” I can make out the distant man pointing somewhere to my right. I pause, wondering if I should even reply to this obviously somewhat insane person across the way. Like I’m going to deliver anything, let’s see, 5 stories up to a strange apartment in a building on one of the most dangerous streets in Kabusie;Â *knew* I shouldn’t have come here and do some exploring today. But then I spot them hanging off a balcony about 3 stories down on my side of the street, barely visible from around a corner. At least he wasn’t lying about the garments. But, heck, they’re probably not his anyway.
“My clothes my clothes!” he pressed before I could exit the balcony and withdraw back into the depths of my own building. “I *know* you can see them from there — I guess! There’s a shirt, then another shirt and then 2 pairs of pants hanging behind the shirts, and, most important, my *dress* in the middle! My red mo- f-cking dress I *just* bought at the pawn shop… I mean, er, J.C. Ponney’s! That’s what I need to wear *tonight*!”
“I-I can’t help you!” I decided to give him. “Sorry!” I tacked on.
“Aw maan!” I see him flip his arms at me in disgust. “I can’t go back in there, maan!” There was true grief in his voice now; maybe he was even weeping a bit too? “The old lady… she…!” He paused. So I guessed what he was going to say.
“Kicked you out?!” I imagine him slapping her in the face. Or worse.
“No no, maan! You got it all wrong! *All* wrong!” But he still wouldn’t tell me what happened. He started pacing back and forth back and forth on his narrow perch, hands to his face. Yeah, he definitely appeared to be weeping now.
“Alright!” I decided to say for some God awful reason, perhaps coming from the same warped curiosity that brought me to this area in the first place today. “I’ll go down there and knock on the door and see if anyone is home — ask about the clothes!”
“Oh, man! Would you do that for me?! That would be awesome, mo- f-cker! Just don’t mention *Terrance*!”
I assumed Terrance was his own name but it turned out to be his son’s. And it wasn’t him that hit her but the opposite way around. We all kind of became friends after that, me and the father and his son from another mother. And he sure did look mighty pretty in that red dress he wore to the mayor’s ball that very night, smiles all around. TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0514, C2077, Kabusie
Sunklands 