I’ve successfully changed Gouldsboro PA into Goldsboro PA by moving Street View into Stret View — alternate spelling again. Now to go inside and grab a celebatory weiner. Celebratory (dangit).
“Hardware? Live Bait? What’s going on here?”
“There’s Back at the door,” pointed out W., still by my side, still helping, still listening. “Maybe he knows.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0302, Google Street View, Pennsylvania
“Oh they’ve known about the armless giant who stands in the field quite a long time now. The most dreaded thing of all is when he turns his back on them, forgets who they are. Then he’s gone. That moment will arrive soon enough.”
“Will it?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the Ant?”
“Ant’s *replacement*.”
“Yes.”
—–
Both stared at Clyde for some reason. Instinct probably. He was hiding something behind those steely blue eyes of his. Perhaps he stole something. Perhaps he blew someone away. Maybe something between these extremes.
Some say he was rolling in dough when he had none before. No one knows where he got the money. Looks like steel it is. More precious than gold in these parts. Lots of bridges, lots of ships. Metal all used up; none to go around for other purposes. Easier to corner it on the marketplace.
Add in a corrupt mayor and you’ve got the makings of a scandal. But someone with a lot of money has to be behind it, at the center of everything, its pumping heart, supplying cash to keep the crinimal machine well oiled. Why do people do this kind of thing? A challenge, perhaps; notoriety that results. Too smart for their britches with no other proper outlet. If only they could take up painting, letters, dance, drama, poetry, reading. Stock marketplace is their only toilet fodder. How much is steel, how much *to* steal?
In the olden days such metal obsessed people might have turned to alchemy for creative release, done their souls some actual good instead of harm.
—–
“Easy as changing a 4 wheel car into a 6 wheel car.”
“Two problems,” returned W. “1st, there’s no such thing as a magnae.”
“Sure: plural of magnate. There was more than one Jay Gold. Says so in the name: Golds.”
“Highly unlikely,” opined W. “Then the extra letter in named, speaking of name.”
“Alternate spelling.”
—–
“All this is more believable than Goldsboro as a last name. Goldsboro is a *town* name.”
“True enough, I suppose. What will you do with the old sign, the sunny one?”
“Town dump; history successfully altered; 21 years of misery averted.”
“And… this will bring back the alchemy?”
“Might.”
“Better get to the people in the car.”
—–
“Dad-*dy*. How far til Uncle Roy’s? Huh, huh?” Junior held his crotch and did a small jig beside the added 5th or 6th wheel now, indicating he had to wee really bad. Mother Wanda Wannabee took him inside to the Tastee Freeze. “*Junior* gets to go inside,” continued Tommy with the complaining, watching them go through the front door of place. Last of the lunch crowd, as it turns out.
“Now now, Tommy. You know Uncle Roy’s cooked us up a nice meal of mashed potatoes and gravy jam and some other stuff. Steelton’s only 7 more miles. You can hold it in, I mean, hold out til then.”
“Ooohhhhhhh. Just… one… hot… dog.”
“This is not the place for that.”
Someone in the distance shot out one tire, then another and another and another and another… and… another. They were stuck here for a while. Tastee Freeze it is.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0301, Corsica, Kentucky, Northwest^, Pennsylvania
Ant suddenly stood up. “Eureka!”
“I’m right here,” protested bath mate Eureka. “No need to shout.”
“No, um. I’ve had a revelation.”
“Oh?” (suds suds suds)
“Well?”
“Dang. Forgot… distracted.” He watched her raise the other leg now.
“Well sit back down and I’ll suds you up this time. Come here.”
“Alright. Maybe it will (suds suds suds) come back to me.” He suddenly stood up again, backwards from the first. “Back!” he exclaimed.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0217, Corsica, Google Street View, Kentucky, Northwest^
“Welcome.”
She stepped out of the box, this “Wilson Fox”, exposed at the core. Looked back. “Cute,” she said of the stuffed fox on top. “Why am I here?” She was enjoying the slumber, but she’d been called out.
“We have to help Hucka Bee.” Plain and simple. No “Doo” in the middle any more. Thanks to Amagon.
“Okay… how?” It was here that Fox probably remembered she was Shelley.
Baker, in the guise of Wolvie here, put images in her head from the last several blog posts. He wanted perspective from a different angle. Female would do the trick, he supposed.
“Mortons Gap, eh?”
Baker/Wolvie nodded. “Although we could also start in nearby Chapel Vile. I checked. The small village in the shadow of Yellowmoon Ridge is still intact.”
“Fearzom,” Shelley/Fox added to this.
“Another option I suppose. Although the castle, Harrison Jett’s, isn’t there any longer. The actual owner came along and deleted it. I think I’ve been banned from the property as well, ha. ‘Nother one.”
“Ha.”
“But Ant’s Castle (Ant Castle) is still present, bigger and blacker. As black as his exoskeleton.”
“Does he have a phone?” logically asked Fox, since he is the purported inventor of the device. “Can’t we just ring him up again?”
“Do you have–” But Baker/Wolvie stopped. He remembered that here — Our Second Lyfe — you just press all the numbers on your phone and you’re connected with whoever you’re suppose to be in the moment. Except 4. Unless you want to dial The Moon.
“I know *you* have a phone. You called me up earlier on it. Yesterday, I think. From that 108/108/108 spot in Perch-Mistletoe. Amazing.”
Yes. In his back pocket. He pulled it out, dialed all the numbers except 1 (4). No Moon this time. “Hallo?” came the ordinary voice on the other end but which was actually Insectoid in translation, as all Ant’s calls were.
—–
“Tell you what, lemme call you back. Kind of in the middle of something.” *click*
But Baker/Wolvie had received answers in the short convo they had. Ant was not at his old location in Motocyclone. Instead he was at Fearzom, just below the granite peak that formerly housed rival Harrison Jett’s Princess Castle. He moved to the mountain after Harrison left, having a free place to stay. Plus his own former castle plot had been taken over by another, who deemed it a “place of power”. Just who this unnamed other is we’ll soon find out.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0216, Corsica, Nautilus, Northwest^, Upper Austra^
The 2 “PLACE”s in the following July 2019 images don’t have anything do with each other except they’re both located in Mortons Gap, KY, lie on opposite sides of the same block in an e-w direction, and use apparently the same type of font and letter placement (notice the similarly askew “L” in each case). The first, with the red “C”, is a restaurant, perhaps now defunct (M & J’s Place). The second is a church (Place of Grace, with the “o” missing in “of”, you’ll notice — another “different” letter), also seemingly defunct now. Chance I come across this match just casually checking out the downtown area through Google Maps Street View? Maybe. We’ll go with maybe.
But I suspect not.
Moving out into the country a bit and continuing the playfulness, we have this tall farmer out in a field, perhaps surveying his land.
Let’s zoom in closer.
OMG. Where are his arms?? And that head!!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0215, Google Street View, Kentucky
“Just staring at a bamboo wall in Perch-Mistletoe. How about you?”
Reply.
“Amazon, eh?”
Reply.
“Oh. *Amagon*.”
Reply.
“Seaweed, huh?”
Reply.
“Well, sounds pretty. Bracket with you?”
—–
It was the last person he suspected while being the first person he suspected, Big Loop completed. Hucka Doobie.
“Triangle of lights,” he said, looking on. Fully a man now, transfer complete.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0214, Nautilus, NORTH, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra^
The Ember Botanical Institute where Barry DeBoy met with Andy Warhole, Ant, and Harrison Jett back in photo-novel 21 to talk about art and some other stuff is still there. Strangely I find myself banned from the property. Description reads: “… dedicated to corvid murder survival training, Rothko appreciation, neuroaugmentation, and antifascist remote viewing.” Seems I’ll never find out more of the story of the place now.
And, moving to the western edge of the same ridge — in Motocyclone this time — Ant’s castle (Ant Castle) is still around, apparently, greatly enlarged and painted black now, like himself. Could be more stories awaiting us here…
Barry’s old art studio just down the hill from it remains intact as well, hmmm.
Wheeler could go back to the EB Institute if not me; same for Bracket. Heck, same for Hucka Doobie the Bee, Baker Blinker, etc. — any of the core avatars except myself, Baker Bloch.
And then there’s that interesting seaside Japanese town centered in Mortons Gully below the Motocyclone peak where we’ve already seen several blog characters (Golden Jim, Marty, The Mann, maybe others) milling about in.
Closest Oracle match for that here:
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0213, Corsica, Kentucky, Northwest^
“You are heart, I am spade, I get it.”
“Balancing point,” replied Shelley.
“Liz,” said Arthur, making her nod. “Both polarities in one.”
“Decision time,” spoke Shelley. “Heterocera or Nautilus or even somewhere else.”
“Looks like Heterocera made a move.” He looked at the painting again, the signature. Selen. Like the sim Selenia they had been investigating before stumbling upon this gallery and this exhibit (“Junction Points”) through Minnow.
“And the Heart Line Jem has been inspecting,” reminded Shelley to Arthur, her former boyfriend, her current husband. In the vast majority of Our Second Life, if not Morgan. But the town of Morgan (Orient PO) was dead. Probably all for the best.
“Baker said he missed Rubi, the woods. This is kind of a way to go back.”
“Nautilus is it,” Shelley stood firm, not ready to give up her castle. She had invested a lot by now. Plus the link to Iowa. She said this to Arthur.
“No option for the rebirth of Collagesity in Fordham, I’m afraid,” Arthur continued as Devil’s advocate.
“No, Arthur. That probably won’t happen. Even though *I’m* still there.”
“You and Franklin.”
Shelley paused before replying. A package had come yesterday for her thought-to-be assimilated tall, green friend. Roberts — Christmas present. She reached for it across the tracks. It contain (as Franklin described it afterwards) the Gang of Willard that blog owner Baker had taken away from her, like a misguided surgeon. Roberts bought it back. And brought it back.
“Franklin is gone,” she said, making Arthur arch his eyebrow.
“Baker won’t be happy,” he said.
“Baker can go to f-ing *hell*.”
“Hmmm.” Arthur looked over. The Retro Backless Dress below the steaming face seemed to fit. *She* was a throwback, non-mesh to name one aspect of that. She was closer to the Lemony Past than most people would suspect if they took her in surfacely. This box has depth, this box has a top and a bottom. Okay, she said Nautilus — stay on Nautilus. Must get back to that.
—–
Yellowmoon, Corsica continent:
“Here, Arthur. This is about Nautilus and its lemony past. Just that easy.”
—–
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0212, Corsica, Hana Lei^^, Heterocera, Iris^^==, Nautilus, Northwest^, Pond District^, Rooster's Peninsula
With all the going back and forth in time it’s always good to remember the present, the gift that keeps on giving.
Merry Christmas from all the toys at “Hello I Must Be Going” Aloha! (it’s still there!)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0211, Blue Mountain, Carrcass-06, City Park
I occasionally stop by here, a house to the south of Chilbo on the Jeogeot continent, to check and see if my star is still there on the porch where I put it, oh, say about a year ago by this point. Owner of the house and attached property is a bigfoot researcher, like myself. 🙂 Guy named Snow. And the creator of the star is also a Snow — small world, or so they say. The first Snow is also co-owner of Roberts and Franklin Investigators in Towerboro on the same continent.
Has Robin Williams pic and quote in his profile, thus the decision to place the star here. Williams was a big fan of Firesign Theatre. And a couple of years back, in the sim of Moork, I found a small parcel owned by Uh Clem, a name derived from one on their “Bozos” album already mentioned in this photo-novel by Peter Ladd, nephew of Mr. Babyface. Tonight I found an Ahclem avatar in the same group as the person who owns the Ouroboros property seen in the last part of my last post here (and who has a Firesign Theatre quote in his profile). And, to remind, Shelley Struthers, an all important character now, extraordinarily so, is based on a Shelly I found in Our Second Lyfe who is also a big fan of Firesign Theatre (another one of their quotes in her profile; is, like myself, a member of the only Our Second Lyfe Firesign Theatre group I know of) and whose apartment she has owned for at least several years lies directly on the triple number of Hooktip, on the Head Line of the Heterocera continent. Keep in mind that we just found more oddities on the Heart Line, its matching diagonal from that particular continent. You can get a glimpse of what I’m working with, all the connections. It is, indeed, a Matrix.
But I believe I know what’s on top of the box now. And the bottom. Nautilus, my *home* continent now (not Jeogeot, not Heterocera) is at the bottom. Top is Reality: an approximately 10×10 mile square in the middle of Ringgold County in the south of Iowa. And then they begin to interpenetrate.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0210, Chilbo^, Heterocera, Iowa, Jeogeot, Nautilus, Towerboro
Sunklands 