April 24, 2023 · 10:13 pm
Sandy Hook threw another party without her now estranged adopted sister Penny Mart, and one of the first time guests — Donald I believe — pointed out the 4th wall to all those that had eyes to see. Which was no one, since Shelley didn’t attend.
“Do you still not see it? How about you Jeeves?”
“No sir. But I’ll keep trying sir.”
“You do that,” spewed Sandy Hook to one of her hired help for the night, irritated by the whole affair. Why can’t *she* see? I bet Shelley could if she were here, she thought jealously yet accurately.
“There it is again! Nothing yet, Sandy?”
February 12, 2023 · 6:30 pm
The novel was first staged as Edith, or The Earl’s Daughter in New York in 1861 and under its own name on 26 January 1863 in Brooklyn; by March of that year, “three competing versions were drawing crowds to New York theaters.” The most successful version was written by Clifton W. Tayleur for actress Lucille WESTERN, who was paid $350 a night for her performance as Isabel Vane. Western starred in East Lynne for the next 10 years. At least nine adaptations were made in all, not including plays such as The Marriage Bells that “used a different title for the sake of some copyright protection.”
As the more melodramatic aspects of the story became dated, there were several parodies and burlesques made, including East Lynne in Bugville with Pearl White (1914), Mack Sennet’s East Lynne with Variations (1917), and in 1931 the comedy East Lynne on the WESTERN Front in which British soldiers fighting in the World War I stage a burlesqued version of the story.
“Westeasterners (open the book (1931))”:
December 6, 2022 · 10:56 am
“You know it’s not a nice place over there,” she said in her wise voice about the “town” across the water, this Dodgey City where we’ve just seen our now familiar friend Jem — Gemilly Johnston (or Johnson).
“What’s your story, then?” I asked down to the Grandma type figure in her old fashioned clothes, cane clutched to breast as she lay on a colorful towel at the beach house rental. She’s thinking about it. “Missing file?”
Instead of answering me directly, she said: “It’s good you’re back on Nautilus. It’s even better you’re back on the mainland, off that island — even though it technically is part of the continent.” She stared over again. Hard to read her emotions from this distance. Sad? Worried? Angry? Perhaps a mix of a number of these.
“About the file,” I insisted.
October 1, 2022 · 8:52 pm
I decided to wed these 2 signs on opposite sides of a court house. Can you tell what they’re about?
filed under: Krazy Kooky Kentucky
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July 23, 2022 · 8:37 am
The woods speak once more. A gnome appears high on a local mountain in a place I generically term County Park, a more eastward counterbalance (or countybalance, ha) to our City Park and its Aloha village of toy avatars tucked under a thought-to-be sheltering rock on Mt. Tom. This is a taller mountain by about 500 feet: 4038 to around 3525. Name? Um, let’s leave that for now. Okay, let’s say The Knob. Anyway, the gnome appears off a trail quite a ways up it. Someone would have had to make a pretty good effort to get it there — the figure is a foot tall or close to it. A backpack would have been needed.
Salazar Jack or Jacob Gnome; Harry or Harold the Gnome; another child gnome who we know grows up to be Barry DeBoy; and now this, in a way the most miraculous of all. Is it an indication I should move all my toys from Mt. Tom over to this nearby location? Especially given the presence of a bee hole right on the edge of Aloha, and also mud dauber wasps threatening from above? Something to think about.
If only I could figure out a way to talk to the newly discovered toy avatar. Maybe through Barry? So many questions (as usual).
May 14, 2022 · 8:47 am
F- it. I don’t have time for a Jeogeot subplot this go around. Need to get back to Nautilus, figure out the limits of Upper Austra for one thing. Like this Schweet Secret Austrian village which makes me Smile — in the Green Between but does that mean Upper or Lower Austra? And Austria: Austra. How it got it’s name in the first place LINK. Wonder if Mary is still here (3rd Upper Austra post time-wise). I know The Musician at least popped in here too at the very beginning of novel 5 (1st Upper Austra post time-wise). Like we’re at the beginning of novel 33. Photo-novel too. But novel nonetheless.
Edward Daigle is in-between as well. Time to move forward and right or left to answer some questions. Decision branch; start of a new tree.
And just to round things out, here’s the 2nd picture related directly to Upper Austra time-wise in the (photo-)novels, which is really just a Real Life photo from a gallery building still in the area.
I, however, pretend it is instead a photo of a sprawling Our Second Lyfe urban area called Middletown, now defunct.
Middletown was on the Jeogeot continent, perhaps including the space now occupied by the town called Towerboro I just left there, hmm.
Maybe we’re not done yet with that Jeogeot subplot.
But first (walk walk walk, open door, walk)…
“Mary!” I had to exclaim. “I forgot you were actually here!”
“What can I do you for today,” she said, not recognizing me in this new guise. I decided to play along a while.
(to be continued)
March 5, 2022 · 11:08 am
He wondered why he was drawn to this place, this coke machine. Then he heard the people upstairs.
“What does it say now?”
“Hmm, still no good. The Oracle simply isn’t going to reboot.”
“What now?” It was a good, solid question from Frank Pinocchio. They *had* to have the Oracle going, or else.
“We can reboot to an earlier time from the backup files. Say, just before Christmas.” She checks the list; she checks it twice. “That looks like the latest we can do.” Fay steps back, crosses her arms, still staring at the oh so blue screen. This be no occident. This was the work of a nefarious agent.
Bingo, thinks Chef-inspector Petty downstairs, retrieving an empty coke from the dispenser and finding a prize inside.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0102, Long Islands, Nautilus, Wild West
Tagged as Agent 47^*+, Chef/Inspector Petty^*+!, COKE, Fay Blue^^===, Frank Pinocchio^*===, OPENING+, ORACLE+
January 5, 2022 · 3:13 am
“I miss Baker Blinker,” confesses Baker Bloch to Wheeler afterwards. The story was interesting fer sure. Morgan, pheh. Tess… hypercube. Wormhole again! They were indeed connected, like two particles that act as one over a distance. But not the 2 Bakers, queerly enough. Not any more. Wheeler had usurped.
“Are you ready to order?” Peter Soso, back from a watery grave or something. So hard to remember some of the characters, or at least their backstories. So many now. Must simplify. I’ll make it a 2022 resolution. But the presence of Soso here was already complicating matters. He was blunt. He was not in the mood to chit chat. He probably didn’t even remember me, if we’d ever met. I looked into his merman eyes, scanning for recognition. I remember him being with Prissy, a mer-creature like himself. But then…
“I’ll have a hamburger,” said Wheeler across from me. “Extra blood.”
Disgusting. “Veggie burger for me.” In tandem, like I said. I set them up she bowls them over. Again and again.
“Very well, sir.” He turned to Wheeler. “And sir.” He took our menus and made his way back to the kitchen down the pier to place the orders.
Well he obviously doesn’t remember *you*, I thought about Wheeler. Along with her “man suit”, she was wearing her flip style hair tonight, which made me start thinking of Baker Blinker. Tag team wrestlers they were, at least at one point in time: Flip and Magika Bean. I had to ask. But first there was the little matter of her Morgan story.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0102, Hana Lei^^
Tagged as Baker Blinker^^++++@, Baker Bloch^*++++@, Eightyeight^^++++!, HYPERCUBE+, MORGAN/MORGAINE, Peter SoSo^*++, RAINBOW SPHERE, Wheeler Wilson^^++++@
November 9, 2021 · 6:12 am
White as Heaven, he stood at the open door on the back of the windmill, watching from a distance. Black, he determined. And probably red as well. He should join them, make his presence known. What does he have to hide *now*?
He quickly hides his red hand from observation, a medical condition but also blood. Our Duncan Avocado. He was also looking for something. He’d lost his cap, perhaps in the woods. He was scratching his head, wondering where it went, but then realized this exposed his weakness to the white guy up the hill. He’s also on something, as in onto something. A box. Could this be… Borneo?
As the white guy approached, he thinks back to Scratchy (sim) and another weakness exposed. The inability to keep track of the one thing in life he is responsible for: George. “White as Heaven” was there. He had some advice to dispense. “You’ve been working on the railroad. I can tell (by your hands).”
Was it a labor of love? he thought after the brief conversation was over. Bart might know. If he wasn’t dead as well.
“Go to the Red,” the white guy essentially commanded. The Old White Lady did. Your *ma*.
He somehow got stuck in the windmill on his way over. Back to square one.
Later: Duncan’s soup disappeared and he knew he was in trouble.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0102, Cassandra City^, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, Sunklands^
Tagged as Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++++@, Campbell O'Pine (Opp)^*+, Duncan Avocado^*======%%&, Owl^^=^*, Sid Barrett Gothic^*=!, SOUP, Tropp^*+, White as Heaven^*=
September 23, 2021 · 9:09 am
She sat as far apart from him on the bench they shared as possible without being *too* obvious about it. Along with looking just plain awful he also reeked of dead flesh — death itself. Yet he talked as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was chattering on and on about his club — Jim’s Club, before he insisted that you add an A. to it, a Brown, or an A. Brown if you wish. But not plain ol’ Jim; not after his club sank after, first, Your Mama and Keith B. left, and then Lena herself. She’d never known him as Jim A./Jim Brown/Jim A. Brown, since she hadn’t seen him since the fall of the Club — last fall she believes. She only knew him as Jim.
“Jim,” she began innocently, trying to excuse herself and daring to insert his name in his soliloquy. Bad mistake.
He waited for more which didn’t come, then: “Jim. That’s it? As in Jim’s Diamond Club, red and black together to make something not quite as good as either separately? *Jim*?”
“Yeah: Jim,” she repeated. “Isn’t — that your name?” She was sweating now. She shouldn’t have wore her fur costume she was going to sing in tonight. Probably brought back bad memories for Jim (Jim?) and his club — same outfit she wore at times there, she now recalled.
He stared at her: no life atall in his eyes. “Call me that again and you’ll be as dead as me. Get it?”
Lena Horned got it. She just let him talk and ramble on about the past after that. Finally he’d unwound everything he wanted to say to her. He got up. “Well, ’bout time to head back into the grave, honey. I thank you. I think you’ve — saved me.” He left the park, sauntering up the street he came down from, into the sunset. She stayed on the bench, wondering what just happened. She better get back to her apartment and talk to Zach Black about all this, before she forgets. Was this all a dream? she wondered, snapping her fingers and finding they just pass through each other. Yeah: dream.
Thank Gods. She takes the tension out of her shoulders and heaves a deep sigh and wakes up, Zach’s arm draped about her midsection. Her new man. Her new *club* man.
“The past again?” She’d been fidgeting for a while, keeping him awake. He contemplated prodding her but just let the dream unwind. Always the sigh at the end to wake up. He knew it wouldn’t last long; never did. The dead can’t leave their grave for too long.
(to be continued?)