Category Archives: 0509

April 18, 2024 · 2:41 pm

actual museum this time

I wondered why these two little figures of the same person were running around a Kangerootown table under the watching eyes of two looming rabbit creatures.

Then when I found two normal sized figures of the same in a nearby fort, my interest was really piqued. The name of the object was Magnum, created by Magnum Yoshikawa, obviously a self image of sorts.

His profile picks quickly led me to this shop in Kowloon’s Gate City, one of the most notable locations in all of Our Second Lyfe. Places like this are a big reason I keep hanging around the game. 🙂

His created museum there was *big*. Then around the corner…

Ah hahaha. Mr. Price! Well, the same Real Life guy who *plays* my Grant Price who is actually called Freddy Price. You remember, the guy who guards Bull’s Bar and is now the same or has incorporated the figure of Gray Man from the LSD Dream Emulator game. I’d be insulted if you forgot *that*.

This find certainly acts as inspiration. I must locate this “Greg” avatar if possible and purchase!

Reference video here, perhaps the best one about Second Life® ever made and certainly the funniest I would imagine. And the best video by the prolific auteur Mr. Moon period as far as I’ve been able to check, the Freddy Price ones included (although they’re very very funny in stretches too).

Ticket to Hell

More on this soon (!).

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January 11, 2024 · 4:51 pm

00410509

“I came here looking for ship parts. Maybe even a whole ship. Instead I found an X. X marks the spot.”

“You’re in over your head,” she said back, the first female salvage related person he’d met. And the 1st person of color, period. She rezzed in to help, to be truthful. RDBH had the perfect angle for an opening shot. He didn’t want to mess it up.

“Or a spot marked by an X,” he changed the wording of his former sentence. Now that she had come he could look down.

Ah yes, a bunch of stuff named Mare: cigarettes, beer, ‘nother different kind of beer. “Why are you running an, er, eatery stand? Salvage person.”

“I have to make ends meet,” she said plainly, matter-of-factly. “Else how could I offer goofy looking scavengers like you such good prices, eh?”

RDBH looked over, took her in better. Pretty face. Jewels on head and body. Attractive. But the prices were still too expensive. More than one way to skin a cat? “What’s your name, dear?”

“Pearl. Black Pearl most call me. To differentiate from other types of pearls: grey, white, so on.”

“Black Pearl,” he parroted back, making the birds on his shoulders share a smile. He seemed to have heard the name before. But where?

(to be continued)

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October 28, 2023 · 11:01 am

00400509

She changes into her true form to better convince the youth.

“Carrcassonnee,” he said, still looking her over, noticing the lack of “junk”, for instance. “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these years!” But then he remembers he’s not his father. He’s just having memories of his father — happens sometimes. This is what you get for being estranged. Confusion at times. Who is who and such. “I mean, after all this time about my *father* talking about you, heh heh.” Nervous laughter to end. He gazes up at the single eye. What did it see, what did it read? His soul?

“Iiiiiiii…,” she said. “Iiiiiiiiiiiii…”. She tries to start again. “Iiiiiiii–”

Bart cuts her short. “Yes, I *heard* that you’re having problems starting again. Like an old car that’s been sitting in a field for a while or something. I believe that’s how my father once described you. But at one time–”

“Iiiiiiii…” she said again. “haaaaaaavee…” she continued. “Newwwws,” she said better.

Silence for a while as the boy absorbed this. Carrcassonnee speaks! “Welll… go ahead,” he encourages, thinking of his father once more. The Tin Woodsman, he picked up on in his psychic way. My father’s old friend; he’s returned!

“Iiiiiiii…” started Carrcassonnee again, understanding the message had been received, “… can take youuuu… to himm.”

“Cool!” And so they set off, across the land and then across the sea. Out of the southeast corners and into the real world.

“Whoa whoa there, Carrcassonnee. Slow down boy, er, girl.”

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August 22, 2023 · 9:04 am

I’m going to figure this out.

Why was he painting the roses red? It should have been white to cover up his mistakes. Yet Willa Wonky died and he has blood on his hands… and arms and chest and face and so on. No going back. He ate the chocolate.

An image flashed in his mind from the past. Wheeler did too! Or was it Shelley?

Anyway, suddenly everything switches with this and he’s painting red roses white instead of the other way around. Willy Wonka lives!

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June 3, 2023 · 9:25 am

caught

Turns out Philip Linden, maker of Our Second Lyfe itself, was a neighbor to me on my island of Constants, but he was another one of those on the edge, ready to drop off the world — his world, after all — with any significant push or wind. Boy does *he* have a whopper of a story to tell, though. Hopefully he can get to it at least in part before gravity and entropy does its inevitable damage.

Dancing Chuck awaits downstairs after it is all said and done, a reward for a job well done. Throw a towel on why don’t you (!).

I knew something I had to tell him: that this wasn’t His Second Lyfe any longer; this island was different. Looking into the future, perhaps that’s the info which pushes him over the edge, causing him to fall to pieces. I’ll try out that theory soon. At least he doesn’t seem to have a swollen head about world creation any longer. Less to break when he tumbles.

—–

Elves on the roof, another tale to tell.

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April 4, 2023 · 11:07 am

00370509

Even in Sweet Nanon’s Morning light, it was a creepy place, what with its rickety old picket fence, grown up yard, and weatherworn appearance. Dare our heroine go inside? That would be Crazy. Crazy Ass Blue. Let’s do it!

Turns out the basement was the worst part but that was just because of all the kitty litter, a blockage of sorts. The heroine carefully descends…

—–

Part 02…

It was a tight squeeze but she made it, newly placed crown just fitting under ceiling. Top of the kitty tower, Queen of the Basement. She surveys her queendom and deems it needs cleaning up. Pretty badly. She’s lost control of her 15 year old girl and 4 year old boy, her subjects. Better return to the Room and draw out a plan.

But she looked and looked but couldn’t find her way back. Just walls. She forgot that she was already in the Room. And always had been.

She exits the house disappointed.

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January 16, 2023 · 8:58 pm

00360509

“Baker Bloch’s soo gullible,” spoke Hucka Doobie to our right, certainly *not* an insect in this situation. Instead: a full fledged woman, complete with all the working parts. “He thinks I’ve reverted. Why would I want to be a bee again? I gave that up ages ago, along with the attached masculinity. And I’ve been faking the transformation back for months, maybe years.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Barry Deboy, famous artist of the Yellowmoon peninsula with his latest series, “Adventures in Tintown”, being a much talked about hit and spectacle. Imaginary defunct tiny town on the outskirts of Mortons Gap, residents say, marveling and shaking their collective heads at the inventiveness. What will that genius come up with next? “He thinks I’m scared of the Ant Castle up here,” Barry continues. “Why… Ant’s one of my best friends (!).” He turns to his right. “Aren’t you Ant?”

Ant didn’t remember or recognize the fellow but he acknowledged the close friendship anyway. That’s the problem with running a business the size of a small banana republic. Lots of friends — hard to keep up with. He’ll take the guy’s word. “Sure, chum,” he said, hoping to catch his actual name later.

“And I guess he thinks you live over in Fearzom on that smaller mountain to the southeast. Good one, Ant.”

But Ant *did* live there. He didn’t live here, in the skybox above the location of his old castle. Back ran the castle and its grounds now, rebuilt from the ground up after the fire explosion of ’83. Ant actually didn’t live in Our Second Lyfe at all. He’s too busy with his business, with his many friends. Real Life we’re talking about here. In Our Second Lyfe he was just an ant, nothing less nothing more. An oversized one, true. And he invented the Bell telephone. Oops, there’s a ring now. The Devil probably, since we were speaking about it.

“Gotta take this.” Ant was hoping it was a call leading him back to the Real World. Exoskeleton costume starting to weigh him down. He answers with his free hand, Tom Collins in the other. Barry’s rock’n a Russian Roulette, and I believe Hucka Doobie holds some ginger ale. She’s not against imbibing but not on the job. And this definitely was work. Acting. With these Bozos. She wonders again if Barry is borderline autistic, so bad he was at it. She’s about convinced. The topo maps did it for her. But he makes up for it in other areas, she thinks (see: last paragraph).

“Hallo?”

Ant sets down his drink and moves away from the others after hearing the voice. Devil indeed.

“Iiii… didn’t expect to hear *back* from you so soon, he he.”

Answer.

“Comedian, yeah. Always. Soo… (he lowered his voice even more) have you made a decision about the girl? Will she be able to keep, you know… her *head*?”

Hucka Doobie knew what the call was about but she prepared to feign ignorance. Barry just wanted to get back to his collages. More fame, more adulation!  It was like a drug to him.

They were dating, by the way. Barry and Hucka. Baker Bloch had no clue about that as well.

(to be continued)

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November 14, 2022 · 1:54 pm

00350509

The Mouse is a fictional character in Lewis Carroll’s 1865 novel Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. He first appears in Chapter II “The Pool of Tears”, encountering Alice while both swim in it, and who panics at her mention of the word “cat.”

The Dormouse is a sleepy character in “A Mad Tea-Party”, Chapter VII, who wakes up enough to tell Alice the story of 3 sisters trapped in a treacle well and drawing pictures of things starting with “m” such as as mousetraps, memory, and muchness.

Although the Mouse does not appear in the classic 1951 Disney film based on the book, part of his personality has been integrated with Dormouse’s.

Black clad Shelley reads the same in the distance while sitting from our angle between 2 toy blocks featuring these similar but different rodents.

Thank you, once again, Gemini.

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September 13, 2022 · 4:44 am

00340509

“The only Butt that’s going to show up in this photo is mine,” spoke up Silentghost, tired of the bog down, but also noting the deleted or unsuccessful profile pic involved yet another purple outfit. Fitting: too fitting. Supposed notorious outlaw on the run Wilson had nothing to say, since she was actually Wheeler. What kind of luck did she have assuming the name of a fugitive from the law?? What did it speak of her character to attract this person into her life?

“I — don’t remember taking that picture, I swear,” she said, plotting her defense. She didn’t. Not her pic!

“Com’on,” insisted Silentghost. “Ρùℜ℘Îē?”

There is another me out there, thought Wilson Wheeler both wrongly and rightly.

Observing Shelley had seen it too but she wasn’t shocked or damaged in any way. Instead: curious. Futuristic (outfit), she pondered. *From* the future. And so it was. She told this to Wilson who was actually Wheeler. Time is being confused, she added in her psychic manner.

She traced the picture back to last Halloween. The lone blog post published from that day, toward the last of photo-novel 29 which I am just re-reading now, was certainly quite purple in nature and mentioned a purple swamp shack in particular, along with Prince’s “Purple Rain” album.

https://bakerbloch.com/2021/10/31/00290608/

“I’m going back to that swamp,” she said to Newt on the phone later. Paper-Soap: he was there too. He studied the post while she spoke. Box… Borneo. They were not even really dating at the time. Perhaps they still weren’t, although they’d been married since.

Shelley contemplated the post afterwards too. *She* was there, at the resurrection beach with Cat-Witch who is… *Wheeler*. Just the day before.

Whatever happened to Liz?

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July 5, 2022 · 3:56 pm

in a name

Arthur Kill teleported over to Monty and the former location of his new-ish girlfriend Tessa’s motel, now abandoned or “razed” as she lastly put it. Thus the need for her castle, she said, more lies but twisted ones with knots of truth along the way. No indication of the previous owner’s name he was looking for in the land description, pheh. He decides he needs to kill someone later today to let off steam from this failure, perhaps that butcher over in nearby Bouncer who chose to bed down with a prostitute for a wife. Fits his (new-ish) code, Blue Rose style.

But then, below him in a corner of the parcel: a *blue ball*. Success? Will the former owner’s true name be revealed through this trace left behind.

When he flies down to its seeming location in the corner of the abandoned land he was investigating: nothing, though. Then he sees it again, one parcel over and considerably tinier. Impossibility!

That’s when he realized it was attached to *him*. “Radar,” he cussed, which is the same thing both backwards and forwards. Doesn’t matter where he goes, there he is. DELETE Not any more. But who had been tracking him in the meantime? Tessa? Butcher? Prostitute/wife even? Better get back to hq (castle) and make his report. Funny that the object was also owned by someone named simply “castle” according to the description. Probably a connection, then, he thought. But he didn’t want to follow that lead too far, didn’t want to color his report until he could catchup with the proceedings. He also decides to temporarily delete the blue rose in his lapel just in case. He can always retrieve it from his inventory later. Nope, he then thinks. Better delete it from there as well. I’ll ask [delete name] for another one. Good ol’ [delete name], he thinks, originator of the [delete name] team that investigates [delete actions]. He’s been meaning to [delete action] him as well. This will give him the chance — two birds with one stone, ha — after he gets the object he wants. Not *needs*: *wants*.”

(to be continued)

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