Category Archives: Novels
All Orange
“Vandalism, child. Someone’s added that yellow boy to *both* parts of the collage.”
Calm Grammy calm, thinks Toddles the psychic toddler, sensing something higher going on here. She sees a revamp of the entire Red Umbrella gallery sometime soon built around this change. Canada: she knew it was always going to end with our cold neighbor to the North. Pictures; they’re starting to enter all the pictures.
The boy is somehow 102. She wonders what *that* means.
“I’m so disgusted with all this, Toddles, I think I’ll just go home and play with my belt. Become one with it.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0216, Black Ice, Bogota, collages 2d, Great Belt, NWES Island, Picturetown, Red Umbrella
102 01 02
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0215, Bogota, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, Google Street View, Picturetown
draining the swamp (reverso world)
“He’s one of us now.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0213, Bogota, collages 2d, Oz, Picturetown, Red Umbrella, Springfeld
hired
New NWES City resident Stumpy was eager to get some local color and received a couple bucketfuls at Moe’s, a centrally placed watering hole. We cut to the most relevant story the bartender told this night. “Homer?” he said after Stumpy inquired more about the famed bar brawl where Mr. Smipson lost his head which had to be kept in a jar of formaldehyde to be preserved like a pickle for possible future restoration. “Right over there.” Moe points beyond Stumpy to the pool table where it happened. “He broke a pool stick for a weapon, Homie did too. Out of the ball park for the both of ’em. But, turns out, Lemmy’s — as they called him — Lemmy’s head was real and Homer’s wasn’t. *He* was just a mascot, although it seemed to be the other way around what with the ice skating gig and all. That’s when reality began to break down. Who *else* is just a mascot and not real in this here town? Probably a lot of us. Probably more than we care to know. So we stopped talking about it, stopped yapping about it. The bar fell silent when the topic of lost heads was ever brought up. So that’s why *you* caused such a stir with your appearance tonight. You don’t have a head, yet you live!” Moe decided he better shut up for the night and started cleaning beer glasses again. Besides he didn’t have any lines left. See! he thought to himself while staring at the void between the shoulders of the man perched on a bar stool in front of him. This is what happens when this is brought up. Irreality!
The spotted figure in the picture near the pool table then stepped out of it and into this world, one who calls himself Gotham. The one who took Homer’s head away from the jar through this same portal several weeks ago for possible repair, leaving Moe with a nice (if shady seeming) nest egg at the bottom of it. But yet he was back now: unretired. Gotham had also returned to remind him of this. Moe didn’t run the bar any longer. A man named MAT had bought it and made him redundant, or, yes, forced him into an early retirement as a better option. The bar had closed 2 hours ago. In his mild, spacey way, MAT had simply forgotten to lock the front door (4th wall) when he left, distracted by a brewing storm and thunderous lightning and wind and such, let’s say. We were operating on alty time, as Gotham later termed it, sitting at the bar with Stumpy and Moe and trying to get the latter to go home to his lovely wife Dinah and put an end to coming back to work and all. “You won’t get paid,” he reminded Moe, but that wasn’t the point.
As Jaspery night yielded to Newtony day, Moe’s presence began to fade and another took his place: 1/2 and 1/2 here. Gotham turns to Stumpy. “Now about that head…”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0212, Apple's Orchard, Montana, NWES Island
pointless (what’s the use)
Tree being Lemmy pretends to nab Bartholomew Smipson with his net…
… only to toss the transformed weapon into the air in a gesture of forgiveness for an old feud with the boy’s father involving a knife wound to the head. Homer thought he was just a mascot. He wasn’t. Bygones be bygones, though. Anyway, he tires of being mobile.
We will have to look elsewhere for explanations about the young skateboarder’s disappearance. Lemmy retreats inside the town’s famous lemon tree, feet back in the ground once more.
What an imagination!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0211, Bogota, collages 2d, Picturetown, Springfeld
00230210
Toothpick’s best friend Mr. Z’s other cousin from another mother, Stumpy, decides he must keep a TILE presence in largely resistant Black Ice. This more hidden building was perfect. Shame about Zimmy’s place on the strip, he laments. Zimmy is the middle cousin of the “3 Amigos”, as they have called themselves since childhood. 1st Mr. Z popped out of Zelda Taylor in ’26, then Zimmy from Daphne Cunningham in ’28, then, lastly, Stumpy here from Barbara Gourdneck of Arkansaw, Kansas in ’32 or thereabouts. 3 mothers, 3 cousins, 3 amigos for life. Back to our continuing story and dialog and such…
Stumpy decides it’s time. No more f-ing around with the heads. He must make a choice. He must *face* the world full on.
It’s really surprising that he can see at all. Or taste or smell or hear. But he’s not touchy about the heckles from the lucky ones who were born with full blown heads. Not since Alcatraz. Or was it Gettysburg. Maybe Phil would know.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0210, Black Ice, NWES Island
end of Tull? (skating away)
Not here, eh? thinks visiting Wheeler from over at NWES City. He said he’s *always* here, spinning around the place on that oh-so-handy skateboard of his. And I so wanted to thank him for the other day. Oh well… just have to tell the others here that I came by; leave it at that. Maybe next time. I’ll try to message the little fellow.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0209, New Island, Springfeld
Mary York x 2
“See. I *told* you if we waited long enough he would change colors.”
“Very good, Sandy. I need to tell a story now.”
“Go ahead, Wheeler, um, Wendy,” encouraged Sandy. It was her turn after all.
“I was wheeling my way from Picturetown, trying not to be late for the Blue Feather meeting with Baker and, er, the other one. The green toy fellow.”
“You know his name,” Sandy complained.
“Anyway, I see my name on the side of a small square house as it comes into view around another house…”
“Lemme guess. Which has the same name.”
“Yes!”
“Do you want my apples yet?” asks Harrison Ford Jett opposite Sandy now, waiting his turn. He was eager to give them up. He wanted to be a man for Charlene.
“Not yet. We already have the orange and that’s enough for now,” answered Sandy. “Bananas: not needed.”
“So I’ve heard.” Harrison Ford Jett glances sideways at his own partner, his own bestie. They both knew something the other 2 didn’t. That Charlene the Punk was… well it should be obvious by the shirt. We’ll get a pic in a moment. Back to Picturetown and Wendy’s story who is the same as Wheeler.
“In that frozen moment, it was then I noticed a (red) car on the other side of the road from the buildings with my name, also coming into clear view from behind a passing truck. Before the obscuration I knew it was an ordinary car. Now, after the passing, it had a flat. Then *I* had a flat. I became the car.”
“Carrcassonnee?” Harrison Ford Jett guessed, turning his attention to the story and away from his gnawing apples, those chafing, gnawing things in his shirt-blouse. His head pivots to Charlene. “Carrcassonnee is a deity of the Temple…”
“I know who Carrcassonnee is. She’s talking about a car.” Let’s get a picture of that shirt in the pause here.
Oh well, turns out we can’t see it from this angle. Sandy presses the issue on. “Blue again,” he says while staring at the tiny snowman in the midst of it all, formerly All Orange. “We’re losing the reader’s attention.” He wondered if he remembered that line correctly. Must be director Eraserhead Man breaking the 4th wall once more. He glanced at the camera, pretending it was the reader he mentioned. He complimented himself for the improvisation before fully coming back into character.
Wheeler/Wendy as a car.
“I looked over at the square building again. My name was obscured once more (around the corner). I knew I couldn’t make it to the meeting on time. Then, in a flash, everything changed. A boy came by on a skateboard.”
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0208, Canada/Picturetown, Google Street View, Marwood, NWES Island
Sunklands 