Category Archives: Toy Avatars

Aloha (Aloha?) and thereabouts

Empty throne. Note the also newly placed female green Mmmmmm to its right, controversial in the news recently for so-called “reverse sassification.”

Who lives here?

Remarkably, I saw a garter snake sunning itself between these 2 spoons in the dirt today at nearby what-I-call Lineboro (photo from about 2 weeks ago).

I know this fellow!

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another small toy influx to Aloha (Aloha?)… and more

A new Red — or is it the same as the old Red — offers Grassy Noll a tempting present (*the* present?) to lure him back across the tracks and into the village proper. If only he could get his dad gum car turned around (wrestle, tussle).

Cpt. Americus at a junction is saying, “Peace for all. Today is a special day. Make up. Rejoin the flock that is your tribe, Grassy Fitzgerald Noll.” When Americus uses the middle names, you know he’s totally serial about something. Special day it is. He’s all about beginnings, middles, ends. Because the latter is coming and he well knows it. “Celebrate while we can!” he could also say this day in a month beyond May. “Soon there will be no crossing the line, crossing the tracks. We will be where we’re suppose to be in time and that is that.”


More drama on my Mt. Tom. Apparently this camp site was burned badly enough to be evacuated. A rug appears to have caught on fire. Whether accident or on purpose is a larger question. Are there nefarious agents working on this high hill on the edge of the town I live in, maybe the actual owners of the land? Because this site is well across the line from legal into illegal. “No trespassing!” the perpetrator might have shouted as the flames did their dastardly deed.


Another camp site further down the same ridge with rather elaborate stone work. Suspiciously so, perhaps. Rock can’t be burned, you’ll note.

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on a line 04

Three new toys in [insert name] as of today, 6 legged blue-green horsie in center. Didn’t realize they lined up until I stood back and took a gander at the whole.

And boy did *these* kind of holes get me in trouble. Still unknown type of hissing creature! But I escaped to tell the tale. Luckily I didn’t come directly face to face with ’em.

Best guess right now: an owl or a possum, possibly a badger. Too large of a hiss for a snake. Not growly enough for a mountain lion or any other type of wild cat.

I’ll be quarantining off these tiny fissure caves until further notice. Maybe dead of winter I can revisit. My Mt. Tom is certainly holding surprises (!). Will go back today and take a couple of more toys with me for the fledgling rock village. Report soon…

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the problem with toys (whiches)

“Let’s split this crazytown,” said Red to his cousin Grassy as they crossed the tracks and drove away from the scene…

… at the same time they just arrived.

“Whatup guys?” the amalgamation of figures in the center said in greeting, not knowing the difference.

—–

“No I’m not putting up with that,” she doubled down, remembering the spectacle from the future.

“(The situation will) clear up; get better,” countered Baker. “First try.” After a pause: “We could simply *ask* Grassy about it.”

Wheeler was thinking the same thing. Red was about to change over to green.

—–

“Aloha!” he said, garish Hawaiian shorts thankfully hidden by the table. He immediately starts staring at the book, the hand.

“Welcome back Grassy,” relented Wheeler. She looks over at Baker. She knew she would be called Flip at these meetings from now on as compensation. Or win a wrestling trip to fabled Muff-Birmingham in the far corners of space, whichever door she so chooses. She opens the door of the refrigerator to see which one.

“Coke, Grassy?” she called over while grabbing, but Grassy was no longer there. Sprite instead.

Several of them, in fact. “Here we are!” said the seeming leader of the three.

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on a line

Silver Surfer, Bikini Woman, and a monkey, watch out!

They’re okay.

I don’t think one or two of ’em got the introductory notecard.

—–

“Is that a toy, Baker B.? I said: no toys.” This is what we get, she thinks. Disobedience of the rules.

Wheeler then realized this could come in handy, as in hands to the sands. She’s going in. She’s going to check out the whole Silver Surfer dealie up front and close, crawl between his legs, etc. She’s going to get down and dirty with the enemy, just like Leany Golden Guy before her way back in 2014 in the basement of my house, other stoopid toys looking on.

(to be continued?)

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Tan sim

“If you get stuck at any one point, you can always go back to the Old Country to regroup,” the Man About Time softly spoke over to Newtonia Kashkow, who could barely hear what he says across the circle. Is this another time distortion? she thought. No, it’s just *him*. So mellow and meek for someone so important. Must be the effects of the travel.

“Collagesity,” he spoke more, “should become a focus again.”

Newtonia Kashkow took this in. “I know you are the same as Marcus Fox Smartville and so we are related.”

“True,” Man About Time admitted after a small pause.

“And you are *not* a sucker.”

“Only in the mind of the beholder. On this turf (Our Second Lyfe): no.” He sat confident in his tannish/goldeny brown, throne-like chair. This was his moment. He steps in to become the knight in tan armor. Or was that aroma. The smell of something hot. And unpleasant. No, that was just an anagram. He sits back up from a naturally slumping position, mind focused again away from the morass. That particular sometimes light brown substance will not play a role in this.

Oh, if she could only see what he felt. But the War between Mind and Senses wouldn’t allow it.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0207, Color Sims^, Sansara, Toy Avatars

Bigfoot Art Happening revisited/recontextualized

https://bakerbloch.com/reality/2015-2016/part-03/

Unholey Book (Red).

Catcher catching Ball below it (Greenilocks marble) during the meat of the event. Conclusion: It is Arkansas.

Later: Unholey Cave…

… and our Bigfoot protagonist Taum Sauk and his wife Mina bedding down within for the dark times ahead.

End of “Bigfoot Art Happening 2015”.

—–

Much much *much* later (2020): He has miraculously emerged in Our Second Lyfe! On a circular island making up a D’Vine Club, with metal *golf* club also in hand and rope similarly wrapped around left forearm to remember his existence in Bigfoot by (formerly named Ironton, Iron, Middle Game, etc.).

And then the also circular but considerably smaller island at the center of the neighboring sim of Danshire he quickly “moved” to, complete with Small Kowloon House. Briefly, that is — was he killed there along with the derezzing of the shack by neighborhood watch fanatic Red Pepper? Fellow former Danshire resident Phyllis Phox might know. If she weren’t combined with anti-self June Bug in the current novel. Current.

Whether dead or alive or something else altogether, we know he still exists in the Twin Peaks Laboratory’s Red Room — a waiting receptacle for both the Black and White Lodges — as confirmed later by Marion Harding and crime pal Philip Strevor. But where is his wife Mina now? (“Where’s Mina? Where’s Mina?”)


“Tell me where she is?”

Is this what Marion is really asking here? Too bad about Phyllis.

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Toppsity

Gabby Truth always slept with the lights on. Wakefulness interrupted unconsciousness constantly. “What was that?” he might say randomly at any stray noise. “Who goes there?”

The picture of swinging teen lovers he use to love didn’t comfort him like before. He formerly slept directly with it, creepily enough. Now it just lays by his bed, unused.

Leaves are closing in, he frets. Bushes. Trumping his freedom at every card play. Unable to connect the dots any more. And what *was* his constellation sign? Fire? Water? The local astrologer had fled invading Earth and hadn’t returned, so no answers there. That leaves Air. Leaves… Air.

Gemini! he realizes excitedly, then distinctly hears knocks right afterwards. Three, then two, then one. Twin Brother Amos. But why this time of night? Oh, he thinks. They must have lost the house. Oh drat, oh darnit. The seed and the house. He’ll have to stay with me now. Oh well, at least the Earth’s gone (Ka-BLAM!). He pulls the covers away from him and gets up, being careful not to trip over the lovers’ painting. He also grazes psuedo-Mossman’s head for luck on his way to the door, per usual.

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Table Test 01

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Hillbilly

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“You here for the Table interview as well?” Mmmmmm Salad Bar Jack asked, fresh from the new portal Wheeler installed just yesterday in Carrcassonnee’s *former* gazebo. John Lemon utters complete gibberish back to Mmmmm, but he understands and interprets.

“I see. First to interview. Luckey you.”

More incoherent speech from Lemon.

“Well, it will be a pleasure to serve with you sir on The Table. If I’m chosen. I don’t have much hope, actually. I worked with Baker Bloch over in Jonesborough.”

Gibberish from Lemon.

“No, not Heterocera. The Real World. TILE Creek. Ever heard of it?”

Gibberish. Salad Bar interprets that John Lemon doesn’t know where this is. Lemon asks (again only Salad Bar can hear this, if anyone was listening in — like us) if he was in a carrcass either positive or negative.

“No,” came Salad Bar Jack’s reply.

After Lemon’s next round of static, Salad Bar proclaims: “Instant disqualification, eh. Well, maybe it’s best I don’t show up for the interview. This Wheeler lady may have misinterpreted my resume. I play in *my* movies. Action adventure ones in the main, although we’ve branched out a bit lately, Gene and I. Don’t suppose you’ve ever hear of actor/director Gene Fade either, my close associate and colleague?”

We can understand from Salad Bar’s next reply that Lemon hasn’t. He begins listing out his filmography. “‘Salad Bar Jack in the River of TILE’? ‘Salad Bar Jack Be Nimble’? ‘Salad Bar Jack of All Trades’?” Lemon shakes his head. “Nothing?” It’s difficult for SBJ to comprehend this lack of recognition, but Lemon shakes his head again.

Lemon goes on a bit now with his incoherent talk, explaining something important to Salad Bar.

“Child, eh?” he replies after a pause. Lemon shakes his head again and corrects Salad Bar Jack. “Chilbo? Then we *do* know each other!”

Salad Bar Jack and John Lemon embrace.

—–

15 minutes later he also receives a chair at The Table. Wheeler remembers him as well. Curled Paper puts a check mark beside his name. On his way out he talks again to fellow Mmmmmm King Bill. “See you later you complete bastard, hehe.” But Bill is still worried about time and getting back to The Hill.

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It seems it is too late. Bill Hill is no more.

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