Always down there looking for that extra “R”, Fanny Mae Palm Branch thought about her boyfriend/fiancee Robert Dee Generic, an Ordinary originating from Pasttown.
Ain’t gonna find it. This is *Reality*.
“And stop trying to perv on that pink girl!” she wanted to shout over as well.
Marsha “Pink” Krakow tries to decide what she wants to search for on the internet today at the nearby Wired and Wireless coffee shop.
Led Zeppelin or The Who is always a good start.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0302, Corsica, Storybrook-
“She’s trying out different religions, Hucka Doobie. Branching out from the Fries with Cheese Church. Like this tree based one in Quack.”
“Quack — good.”
“Expansion of the Jana Forest has kept me there.”
“Good. How’s Pitch? Still licking the wounds to his ego?”
“I suppose. More to be seen in Bena, apparently.”
“Have Wheeler walk outside before you leave here.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0302, Corsica, Instabar
It was already night. She needed to bed down for a while. She decided to approach one of the innumerable Victorian houses near the railroad to get information if possible, perhaps beg for a place to rest. Just a while, she rehearsed. Just to get my bearings. She was choosing realities just on instinct. Good.
Then Tessa spotted what she thought was a lake behind the house and went there instead, noting the bridges on opposite sides of it, about equidistant from each other from this vantage point. She sat down to meditate on the subject. She later learned her lake was actually an estuary, lying between mainland here and a queer, curly island over there. Eventually the name of the island, for her, became Curly-Cue, usually shortened when writing to Curly-Q. She also understood the Q stood for Queer, because it was.
3 other islands existed in a small archipelago with queer Curly-Q: one almost as large but much more regularly shaped; another, also curly shaped but simpler — not as bendy-twisty — and about as large relative to the second as the second is to the first; then the smallest, about 1/4the the size of the 3rd largest and containing no houses atall unlike the others. That was the one that she eventually chose as “home” in this strange land beyond the cave system she had stumbled and bumbled upon by accident, just by sticking to the tracks and thinking she could never get in trouble that way. She wasn’t as lucky as fellow cave dweller Guyd, then. Because Guyd avoided the tracks.
There was no need to look further.
“Home”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0302, Bellisaria, Grote
It was almost a perfect sim, what with its trash and gutter filth. Very realistic; a perfect place to meet… someone. And the Oracle predicted its importance: Hidden Vilage (etc.). But she must return and merge with the other Hucka Doobie, the one that didn’t get this far. She knew that.
But she still had some time before the exit.
—–
The Rhino represents a direct link between here and NWES, our new focus. Rhino in each. And the *same* one (same object from same owner).
George’s Abbey Road VW remains just down the street. An indication of what’s going on (Portal; multiple).
—–
If only Jacob I. was still around, she thought while laying outside the *original* Joint Joint in the “Black Side” of the village, another thing shared with NWES (and right beside the duplicate Rhino over there — more emphasis).
—–
Ah ha. Tin Machine.
—–
Uncle Zach still shooting up and not listening to local phenom Firesign Theatre. But we’ve seen him more recently: Pipersville; (owner of a) *Gas* Station (Gastion). Should’ve known.
And that was Firesign Theatre on the turn table up there. Not Tin Machine. My mistake. Platinum (not tin). That place must be Domino’s still. Hitgal is probably around, then. Best friend Sangria too.
This side of town retains power.
Diving in again…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0302, Gaston+
They all sat on the bench, wondering what she was attempting to actually accomplish by being here. But they dare not ask, since they were the conquered if not the vanquished — yet. Grey Scale Kimball had assured the little people of the land that she was fairy friendly, and that she had come from Regaltown which was full of such people and they all got along very well indeed and that she herself was a type of fairy. The fairies knew what she was alluding to. Fairies are certainly not dumb creatures. Little bodies and brains, true, but a lot of thoughts spinning round those small grey matters. They knew that she was referring to homosexual fairies and not fairy fairies, although there were also homosexual fairy fairies, if not in present company.
Benny’s brother Jer showed up on the other side of the praying Grey Scale. He was much less timid in his position as the Left Horn to his brother’s Right. Horns of Hatton they were together, although not rulers of the land. That was Grey Scale now. Formerly: their father.
“My ruler,” he acknowledged Grey Scale while bowing a bit. “My brother,” he said over to Jer sitting on the bench with the fairies.
“Howdy,” Jer’s less formal brother spoke back. The fairies (Aubrey, Austin, Addison) waved “hi.”
Jer turned his attention back to Grey Scale. “May I assist you in your prayers, my ruler?” His voice was authoritative. *He* should have been the eventual ruler. Not this usurper. But armies decide battles and hers won. Certainly having the armored elephants didn’t hurt her cause. He should have thought of it first. They were there, just having a good time roaming the shallows and flats around the sacred Hills of Bill. He should have put them to good use first.
“No, I think I’ve got the hang of it,” replied Grey Scale, thinking: how hard is it to pray, dummy? I sit on the single pose ball, I *pray*. Very simple. But then she realized that maybe she was missing something. Like needed, spoken words. Perhaps a ritual mentioned in those dusty old tomes which she’s still read only about 10% of. She decided enough was enough before she got herself into hotter water, and rose solemnly, unlocking her hands. “There. I feel better,” she said, breathing deeply. She shrugged to both brothers. “But it’s war, fellas. There’s gotta be winners… and, well, losers.” She glanced into the tomb with this. The final resting place of Max the Mad, also known as the Red Devil. “Now he’s in a better place,” she tried to reassure again, but Grey Scale here instead pictured a world of fire and brimstone and much gnashing of teeth.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0302, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori
They were back in Maebaleia/Satori after a quick sidetrip to Hana Lei Hidiland. Tillie was sitting in the… catbird seat. She had supreme control now, white arms, right and the other one, covered and protected once more. Notebook remains undamaged. Bumbling Baker Bloch and his bike were positioned a safer distance away this time. “Well…?”
“Do you like my white forest, Baker Bloch?” she called across the distance. “I like to keep trophies.”
“Conquests.”
“Yes. You need me, I need you. Come here,” she beckoned. “Come closer. The computer is not a problem any longer. Forget about it. Come here.”
Baker Bloch edged closer, his bike with him.
“Closer,” she still requested.
Biking Baker complied.
“Ahem, too close.”
“Right. Sorry.” The white distance was finally assumed.
“We need to talk.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0302, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori
This portion of the Baker Blinker Blog is brought to you by 3B Productions, maker of the fine None of your Bee’s Wax© global media events.
—–
Black people. Just like me. But then: “Whiteyes”. Ice Cream Eyes?
She looks at the watch that she’s not wearing. Time to meet Grassy over at the Blue Feather Table Room.
—–
Hucka Doobie kept staring at the map and adding information. “Karon above Lapara, Grassy. And Cadiz is nearby too.”
“A ‘Z’ is kind of an ‘N’ turned on its side,” offered his old friend sitting beside him. His old *nemesis*. But that was long, long ago and far, far away. In a different universe, really.
“You’re right Grassy Noll!” She rotates it in his mind. “Karoz’s ‘N’ must have been turned into a ‘Z’. It’s not lost, merely sideways!”
“Visa versa.”
“What’s that?”
“Visa versa,” Grassy repeated. “Reverse the ‘N’ with the ‘Z’.”
In Jethro’s dream, the peak of Bauerbridge had rejoined the rest of the Mountain Lake summits to celebrate the return of Timmy, reunited with his war torn family at last.
In a related story, Trojan-Durexian War vet Sam Bee lounges at a Fruity Island public beach, wondering if this is finally the year he’ll be able to return to the land of the living.
Friend Duncan says they’ve found a door — not yet opened, though. Sam knows voodoo; he can remedy that.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0302, Fruity Islands, Mountain Lake
There was still a kind of town or at least community here in Meribel, the animated snowman thought, teleporting into the center of the sim.
But was it enough to make him change?
—–
Ahh. Santa’s Workshop still here in Porvoo. That’s encouraging too.
I know this is good; I’ll save it for later.
—–
No Arosa Village downtown any longer (drat!). But small yet intense Inferalist remains for more possible scenes. Good as well.
However, in examining further, the berg seems to have shrunk even more since Collagesity novel 3. Another backset then, it seems.
—–
The backside of what remains of the Arosa Village.
Site of former downtown.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0302, Purden/Snowlands
“I produced this album back in the early 00’s, one of my first gigs! Progressive math rock band called Chalcedony! Aren’t they just the dreamiest!?”
“I suppose, David! My legs kind of hurt now! Can we go to the juicebar!”
“In a minute, doll! Here’s a passage I always play on air guitar! Dig this!”
“Oh Lord,” Lisa said just below the level of the blaring music. “Will this night never end?”
—–
Morning came. Was Lisa the Vegetarian Smipson still there?
What do you think?
——
“I tell you, Linda. I have half a notion just to sail over to New Island and grab Fisher and plant a big wet one on him and then drag him back here, full painting in tow of course.” She took another drag off her limeaid.
“1000000 lindens?”, fellow vegetarian Linda Halsey guessed at the price once more. “1000500?” Her estimates had been steadily increasing all morning while Lisa continued shaking her head. As the sun rose, so did the worth. She was slightly perspiring now, so excited she was about the possibilities. “*I* could be your lover, Lisa, for all that dough.”
“It’s the paint,” Lisa then explained. “The red half of the violin was painted with a mixture of powdered pigment, rabbit skin glue, and blood. But particular blood. That of the maker’s wife who died in childbirth.”
“You don’t say…”
“And about the green side — even weirder. But I can’t talk about that right now.”
“I know!” her bright, blonde friend then exclaimed. “Vulcan!”
Dang, thought Lisa. She’d said too much.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0302, Corsica, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island, Southeast
Sunklands 
