Category Archives: Bull’s Bar

00420507

He was on the first floor of his Victorian house now working with the heavy duty computers when she passed by outside. He instantly recognized her from Cass City. Marsha “Pink” Krakow. But which role is she assuming under that overarching persona today? Secretary Berta Brainard? Or pawnbroker Pinkie Brainerd? Neither as it turned out — she had another one to go along with the new location. This is the way she bypassed her paralysis demonstrated in the middle of novel 41 and also a bit with the car wreck in the current novel. Like a female before her named Ball, she desired now to become a top notch comic. She’d warmed up in St. Dennis on the Red Dead planet with a smash act which she headed… without a head. Now it was time to up the ante here in Aisle of Palms. She knew psychedelic artist figure Okama Majo would be looking on.

She backed up and took the right turn to Bull’s Bar. Security agent Grant Price let her pass without inspection since he recognized her from the posters.

Inside a crowd had already gathered. She sat down unobserved at the bar and ordered a stiff one. She was kind of irritated that the animations in the stool didn’t allow her to properly close the front of her dress but she found one that somewhat retained decency. Only the bartender could see her anyway and since he was only a head, well, probably not too interested in her body.

She turned.

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00420503

He enjoyed his time in Aisle of Palms rehearsing with his new band but it was always good to get back home. Back to his private, two palm beach beneath the house with its lounging boat and tent, back to his cats, big and small.

Plus the fact that all that talk about St. Dennis was kind of freaking him out. He *knew* where that was, he insisted to Baker Bloch and Wheeler Wilson, discussing the different angles of the subject at the new bar — Bull’s Bar I think they settled on for a name. Yes… and still guarded day and night by Grant Price and his security crew as hired by Bull himself, also known as Dragon. Bull Dragon sometimes, combining the two names. And sometimes even Ball Dragon or Dragon Ball, although he really doesn’t like the Ball version; best not to call him that, actually, because of his violent streak and all. Some say he comes from fabled Violence District itself; killed not one but a number of people there; kicked one to death in the middle of an alleyway, the legend goes. Anyway, being an omniscient type author to this blog and attached photo-novel, I also know that’s true, and that’s how Grant Price met him because he frequented the place too. Gray Man he was often called because of his suit and fedora style hat of that color. We’ve covered that a bit in the last section. Back to St. Dennis and Okama Majo’s different take on the topic. We’ll pick up discussion at Bull’s Bar two days prior. I’ll try to keep up better, ha.

He sat in the middle between the two as they chatted. They clearly wanted him to hear to further the narrative.

“*Anyway*,” continued Wheeler Wilson-as-Martha Lamb, “rumor has it that Atlantis High Priestess, this so-called Libra Neptune from the golf course back in novel 41, rediscovered the underbelly of St. Dennis, reverted back to her old, whoring ways. This is all in the movie too.”

“Red Dead Redemption,” Baker said back.

“02, like I said.”

“Okay. How does this… just go ahead. I’m sure it will clarify itself if we talk long enough.”

(to be continued)

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00420408

“Oh no! Look out Linen!”

“Behind you!”

They gave Okama Majo a cheap high-rise apartment in town so that he could rehearsed with his new band easier. Name still pending. Don wants to call it “Sueeey!” — totally predictable, still being a kid at heart and mind and all and not thinking of others that much while living in his own self-centric universe. Classically trained guitarist No Lag V is leaning toward “Gas Solid Liquid Plasma,”, with her as Gas and, as she said, the others will figure out their own state of matter over time. And then Shelly inserted her own name into the discussion: “The Dream Emulators”. Okama? Let’s actually give Okama “The Dream Emulators” suggestion and leave Shelley’s for later. Currently she’s off in her own dream world over on the western part of the Jeogeot continent, spending time with imaginary boyfriend Eddy D’Aigle instead of hubby Arthur, who may be out of town himself acting again. Shakespeare never sleeps.

He knew he shouldn’t do it but Okama is searching old tenant Mr. Babyface’s Internet history for clues about his nature. What led him to take that small boat so close to that Korean Channel funnel, obviously marked on the map, and get sucked in, never, it seems, to return to the land of the living? Soon — too soon probably — he comes across Babyface’s theories about an alphabet hidden in a column of sims on the eastern side of the continent, the opposite part from where Shelley currently is; she’s just that off-base. Okama is the one we should stay with…

—–

“Orgamast?!” he shouted, spotting the name of the “O” sim in the Korean Channel and realizing it was so close to Orgasm (‘nother one!). Let’s back up…

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00420406 (LSD (strutt’n Struthers))

“Sato is from the North.”

“From the North.”

—–

“She’s pretty good — ‘Classical Gas’ I believe. But her yellow-ish skin doesn’t show up well against the yellow background. NEXT!”

“What’s this electro-crap?” spoke Martha Lamb/Wheeler to Baker Bloch, who was helping out again. Wonder what happened to former helper Newt? Anyway, he answered: “It’s Osamu Sato, a very important figure now in the blog, or at least the current photo-novel. 42. Remember? We were suppose to answer everything in this one?”

“How’s that going?” said Wheeler to this. Very predictable. And right on the mark.

“And it’s played by Kangarootown’s very own Okama Majo. Very close. Maybe the same.”

“Alright,” Martha Lamb/Wheeler relented. “If you insist.”

“Arkansaw hog calling by a Fayetteville boy named Don — insisted on standing in front of the stage to what he called, ‘have more impact on the audience'”

“Absolutely,” judged Martha Lamb/Wheeler, not needing to hear more than a couple of ‘SUUUUUUEEEEEY!’s.

And then, ahem, Shelley Johnston Struthers to end. Had to be.”

“Always wanting the spotlight,” Martha Lamb/Wheeler started the complaints. “‘Strawberry Fields’ again from the sound of it.”

“Actually it’s ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’… to go along with the Osamu Sato stuff.” The chorus started.

“Ah yes, I see. Comes with Osamu? I mean, Okama? From Kangarootown? Golden Jim?”

“Yes,” answered Baker Bloch plainly.

“Okay, let’s see them all together now. Even the one I rejected. I’ve changed my mind.”

“There’s one more figure we need to fit in make it all work,” said Baker, who didn’t elaborate but perhaps didn’t need to. Linen. So close to Lennon as Okama is to Osamu. Shelley wasn’t actually singing anymore. Just channeling.

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00420405

I remember seeing you at the other Jack’s, the one you modeled your new bar on. I’ve been taking care of you for a loong time, Wheeler. Watching over you; waiting in the shadows, as I like to say. Ready to pounce when trouble comes up. And it will.

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00420404 (Mr Price Too)

So to bring all this together:

“The two processes across the road from each other are one. It all broils down to a chicken situation. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? This represents the art on the two sides of Grant Price Hill Rd. in Bear Lake PA, human-made and who-knows. Why does the chicken cross the road? Because he’s already on the other side. Add in Happy Town and we have the full explanation. The blurred out figure beside the canoe is Gray Man. And… he’s probably Grant Price too.”

“Or Grant Hill,” Baker tries to quip.

“Has he shown up yet at the bar? Grant Price I mean?”

“No,” answers Baker to Hucka D. “But I believe he might be in the alleyway outside.”

“Guarding the place already?”

“Maybe (!).”

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00420401 (Mr. Price)

“I-I don’t need someone t-to… guard it with his life, j-just… be around.”

“We’ll be waiting in the shadows,” his new client assured the owner of the bar. “Ready to strike when they make the wrong move. We’ll keep it clean here.”

“I like that. And if they *don’t* — they gotta pay the price.”

“Now you got it Dragon.” Points at Dragon. “Now you got it.”

—–

“So what is this magazine you brought with you today, Baker Bloch? SecuroServ? Who’s that?”

“Let’s call it a… bleed-through from another reality. One important to know about, Wheeler.”

“He’ll probably be showing up soon,” he added. “To secure… and soive — just a warning.” He picks up the magazine from the counter and hands it directly to her. “Being the manager of this here bar, I’d recommend studying up.”

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00420315

“Hucka D., there’s no doubt that this newer and truer Aisle of Palms in the same named town is connected to our Fal Mouth Moon animation. There’s even an equivalent of Steptoe Butte there in the background if we extend our draw distance to 512 and then shorten it back to 128 and take a photo before the landscape shortens again in turn. Mount Chinhae we can call it, after the sim it is situated on the lower end of. Sacred after this I would suppose.”

“Fascinating. Keep it up.”

“The bar with the red rooftop to the left, like the dart in the collage is red tipped. Tipping allowed after all in the bar.”

“Tone it down a bit,” Hucka D. requested to this. “Focus on the *obvious*. What are we looking at?”

“Jack’s bar, obviously. (Bull’s) Ear for a target (name), but we had to settle on Bar since we couldn’t get the needed lights in the ‘B’ to stop functioning and turn it into an ‘E’ — shame.”

“We’ll work on it,” said Hucka D.

“So instead the dart turns into a cigarette or cigar which may be the same as a joint. This indicates that Jack is smoking hot. Icily cold later on. After the process is finished. The ear is removed from the side of the mountain revealing Lloyd the bartender for who is really is. The fuse on the bomb is lit. The color inverted VW, yellow at the beginning, speeds on to its destined destination.”

“Boomb! Bullsear!”

“Should be,” agreed Hucka D., already hatching more plans to make it so.

“What did you just call what you did, Dragon? Bulls-*what*?”

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00420314 (snow)

“Is that sup-pose to be… me? IS THAT… suppose… to be… MEEE? What’s going on here? Wh-wha–”

“Let me show you your future to explain,” I said back from beyond the 4th wall.

“Yeah okay yeah I guess I see your point I guess I see.” He shook his head. “Jack, eh?”

“Jack,” I said. And then I showed him where I took out (the) yellow.

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“Yellow Jack” shaping up (also: Conejo)

She was at the point of auditioning acts for the new bar. This one was a stand up comedian from Cork.

“What do you call a parade of rabbits hopping backwards?”

“Receding hare lines,” he answers himself after a beat. She finds that joke especially pertinent, since she copied a lot of this decor from a place named Rabbit Island.


Rabbit Island items: free to copy yourself!

“I don’t need to hear any more,” she spoke up. “You’re on the bill.”

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