Category Archives: 0515

00480515 (red means stop)

The BD was over as Terrance Sr. took off her red dress at 12 and turned back into a man, ball over. I pulled the rig off my head, sat up. STB man, I recognized early on, basically at the start of it all. I must put this down in my blog!

—–

Ahh, *exactly* what I need,” thinks Philip in one of his more recent dreams as he spots it coming toward him. He then positions himself directly in front of the approaching red El Camino, freshly entering his hometown of GTAV’s Sandy Shores from the east, daring it to hit him. It screeched to a halt — big mistake, should have just plowed right through the him like a speeding bullet or something.

Philip goes to the door, opens it, drags the passenger out on the road, debates whether to smash his head in but decides not to as he has more important matters to deal with today, takes control of the wheel…

… leaving Albertville M. Spaghettiboro by way of Stockholm and Lima coughing and wheezing in the smoke of his spinning tires and belching exhaust pipe. “Little Hell here we come!” he cries about the destination on the opposite side of the Alamo Sea from Sandy Shores as the landscape wizzes by him — directly across from SS, actually. Some people call it Heaven but Philip knows the truth because you have to raise a Little Hell first, like a child to an adult. All children are spawns of Satan, he knew. Like 7th Devil up in the castle perpetually holding the bowl of patriot soup that stands in for a cement pond. Or something — Frank explained the whole 4 string alignment resulting from Mouse’s diabetic fit the other day to him but his brain didn’t retain all that much. All he thinks of is pleasure, what’s good for *moi*. Which is why he had to, in the end, be killed. By Frank or Mikie, didn’t matter that much. Death to Philip Strevor was all that both could think of. The Id to their Ego and Superego respectively must *go*. TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0515, GTA

00470515

We finally made time in our busy schedules, ha, to visit Crooked, or what Lexi deemed as Crooked. But the only thing askew about it, really, was that telephone poll just outside the building. Nevertheless, she said, the structure is indeed Crooked, as in a name from another time, another dimension. “Now we just have to get the correct furniture to fit inside,” she said, which got me wondering. “Purple,” she said about the color. “It has to be purple.”

It still wasn’t clear to me if she intended to actually purchase or rent the building set apart from the rest in this Kabusie ghetto, so deep into Darksity that straightness and reason forgot to follow (I think is the way she put it). Or did she just intend to squat there for a time while the processes she also described worked their way through? This is the place she finishes Ralph — I did have that much. End of August. The ditches open themselves up to her like a bitch in heat. Strange way to put it I know, but that’s her phrasing again. We’ll see how it pans out. I guess I’m along for the ride too.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0515, C2077, Kabusie

00460515

He’d already done it twice on the pipe but the pipe had turned into a broom, thanks to Wheeler’s, I mean, *Glinda’s* magic wand. “3rd time on the ceiling,” she commanded. “3rd time on the ceiling,” she repeated. “3rd time on the ceiling,” she said again. “Just fly up!” she finished the incantation, plainly stating the objective.

He can do it, she thinks. He *will* do it.

He indeed flies up after a short but significant enough pause, knocks against the ceiling pretty hard with the end of what is now his broom. Everything changes.

—–

He wakes up on the couch with the same old 12′ pipe but immediately senses its function has changed. He realizes he had the power to fix the town’s infrastructure all along. They don’t need End of Time’s alien cat-people, psychic geniuses in such things. He is actually one of them! In short, he knows he can fix everything simply with his mind. He laughs out loud with the power, “ha ha ha”. Is this good? Probably good I’m thinking. Pretty sure.

Well, just in case I suppose we should file it as another one of those: we’ll see’s. Plot holes are still possible if not pot holes now.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0515, End of Time^^, MISTY MO^^, Oz

00450515 (grand theft auto)

Is that a red white and blue flag of The Netherlands up there? Philip thinks while passing, not use to such decorations in his journey.

At the same “time,” Fern, after having created her own, more limited Earth simulator along with her own bus for travelling through such, leaves Arnhem in the eastern part of The Netherlands, destined for Amsterdam more towards its west-center, a 98 KM trip. At Amsterdam she plans to take a specially rigged up gold car to the Ells Bridge and beyond, hoping to catch up with Philip before he reaches Vaalserberg at the SE end of the country. It will be a close race, she knows. That’s why she created her own simulator at a 1:10 scale compared to Earth instead of the 1:1 scale to same for Microsoft Flight Simulator. She’ll need the time saved, she figured.

—–

*Not* copper, she knew.

*Not* silver just up the road, which she also passes by.

But, dang, where’s the gold one that’s also suppose to be here? Has it already been *use*? She gasps. It’s already been used! she understands and starts recalibrating her goals and outcomes accordingly in her vast brain.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0515, Europe, GTA, Holland, MFS

00440515 (once more: the 7 and the 6)

Looking down from the damn dam rail into the still blood stained rocks below, I thought of changing Tennessee into Kentucky again and be done with it.

But then, raising my head and seeing the city-scape still beautiful in the sunset through the gorge in front of me, I turned away and started walking again, contemplating the red (technology) and the green (anatomy) and how to balance the two and not give up hope. Sanity don’t leave me yet!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0515, C2077, GTA, Rancho C

00430515

“What are we going to *do*, Fern?” They’d run into this huge plywood cube almost immediately after leaving the bar, blocking further progress, blocking what was actually their favorite place in Castle Town, down over the rails there and through the southward tunnel. The garden spot park on its edge where we last saw Barry De Boy. And Wendy.

Fern reaches into her gray capri pants and pulls out a golden gun. No, not that, she thinks, and then puts that in the back one while she reaches deeper into the front. Phone. She’ll just call Lexi, see if she has anything to do with this. Dialing…

“Hi Lexi. Listen, we have a problem here over in Castle Town.”

(reply)

“No, the one where Lichen is at.” My Shelley, she thinks but doesn’t voice, looking over at the blonde hair, the spinning blonde piece of straw in her mouth, more agitated than ever. Lichen didn’t like this, didn’t like change. But Fern knew they had to leave.

(reply)

“That’s right. On what you call the Forbidden continent but what Lichen and I like to call Omega, yes.”

(reply)

“Oasis in a desert of shame — you remember. Flattered. Speaking of flat…”

(reply)

“*15*?” Fern knew that the members of the Firesigntheatregoers group numbered 5 the last time she checked. Shelley, Baker and Wheeler, and then 2 others.

“What’s 15?” Lichen asked over. Fern ignored her for the moment, absorbing the new names. Took a while. Well if you aren’t going to answer me, Lichen thought, I’m just going to go over to the rail and look down at where we *should* be by now. If it weren’t for this blasted *cube*.

Dumpster down there gone as well, Lichen noted. Interesting.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0515, Castle Town, Heterocera, Omega^^, VHC City^

00420515 (centerpoint)

“Honey, get out of the shot. I’m trying to take a picture of that ghost over there!”

—–

“So this is where we’re going,” Mabel said to Teebestia, who had removed her mask since the facade was dropped, like water off a duck’s back.

“We *all* do,” the mechanoid rattled. “Eventually.”

“Riight.” Mabel was pondering how to get out of this. Really hard (!). “What happens when I wake up? I mean, when I get to the other side.”

“You’ll see your brother,” Teebeestia spoke plainly. “Reunited at last.”

I must be dreaming, thought Mabel. She goes to the edge, stares down into the hole, sees light at the bottom, way way down. She’ll be killed, yes. But the light will take her, swallow her. (Almost) all water removed. Just like a mechanoid. There will be little remorse for a life lived fully, quietly, in contemplation on the world at large. *Worlds*.

“Soo… this is how you got to be who you are.”

“Yes,” Teebeestia clipped rapidly. Death was good for her. She had a diseased heart, a diseased mind. The hole was a way out.

Mabel looked around the landscape for perhaps the last time. So much had changed about the Dawg Pound since their childhood, growing up with Winnfield — happy happy days. But the Cleveland Rocks up there remain. Perhaps, at least in part, as a memorial for Little himself, she imagined, the last place she saw him before he was taken. By the Universe. The mechanoids at least do that for him while shifting around everything else. She can’t really blame them, though. Climate change, she knew. “Oh, Little,” she lamented. “What have your Green-Gray Wars done?”

She shifts her attention back to the hole. Taking a deep breath… she jumps.

The bones rattle on.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0515, Google Street View, Mars^^, Texas

00410515

“If we discover a new land in the ship I think we should call it Redlands. After our current hangout. Whaddaya think?”

“How about *Black* instead. Er: Black Nation, say.”

With his quicksilver mind from all that pirating business down through the years, Red Dead Beardy Head thought of a compromise. “*Well*,” he started the new pitch. “Since red and black are both card colors, 50-50 for each, how about a card game. Say: Poker.”

Black Pearl laying beside him had to smile. He certainly was honoring both him and her with the name. But she couldn’t help countering with: “Black Jack. I say Black Jack. Fits the card part. 50-50 on the cards.” But my color up front and on top again, was the implied meaning.

“Okay, got another one. How about, say, *Hearts* — Heartsland. Like our two hearts are joined beyond just playing poker.”

“Awwww. How *sweet*.”

“Red on top, I know.”

“Yup,” she returned crisply, knowing the game was on again. “Spades,” she countered logically. The game of Spades, like we have the game of Hearts. Except, let’s see if I remember, *spades* trump everything; a black suit trumps everything.

“Okaay, but if I remember correctly (thinking quick again), Black Lady and Black Maria are variants of Hearts (game). So *if* we find new land, how about we stick with Heartsland — but the capital or the town we found there or whatever will be called Black Lady. I mean, Black Pearl of course.”

“Make it Black Maria and we’re good,” she finished the negotiation. Maria was her mother’s name as it turned out. Good to honor ancestors in a new land. Remember the past and roots while at the same time moving forward beyond them.

Heartsland, slightly changed to Heartlands, stuck. But Black Maria turned out to be Valentine.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0515, Big Woods, Jeogeot, RDR2, Redsland

00400515

The weight of the past…

… finally collapses the present into a hellscape sinkhole of no return.

Over and over…

… and over.

—–

“As you can clearly see, Dr. Mouse, the darts weren’t the cause of the death.”

“As I suspected,” he said in his superior, haughty way. “What did the extracted bodily fluids reveal?”

“Dr. Rabbid over at the lab is still working on the results,” answered Dr. Brown. Dr. Mouse was thinking he’d have the results already, would *cane* them out of a subordinate if needed for such an important case. All Millbank is depending on a correct diagnosis. For its own survival.

Sensing the tension, Dr. Brown put forth another option, since he didn’t have much faith in science to figure it out by this point. He acted as if it was his own idea instead of Dr. Rabbid’s but would quickly point the blame finger at the non-present doctor if Mouse didn’t like the proposal.

“Seance?!” Dr. Mouse responded to it, initially seeing only the negative of the thing. “Here? In Millbank?? Are you mad??”

Well, a little, Dr. Brown thought, but then answered: “It could be elsewhere. The other doctors wouldn’t have to know about it. You could be a hero, sir, swooping in from the outside to save the day.”

“All Hallows Day,” he specified. “All this,” and he looks around the room that represents the entire sim in the moment, “wouldn’t have to go back into storage. It could be perpetual, a permanent fixture. *If*…”

“… we could just figure out how to affix the past to the present; make it stable and unfluctuating,” finished Brown for the higher up doctor.

The phone in Dr. Brown’s pocket rings in an ancient way. He answers; he acknowledges; he hangs up. “Dr. Rabbid’s results indicate formaldehyde, 37 percent.”

“Formaldehyde?!” shouted the superior doctor even slightly louder. “Then this *is* about preservation.” The seance was a go, at least in the eyes of Brown.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0515, Ashton Village, Bellisaria

00390515

“My buns are hot,” uttered Tammy “Beige” Brown sitting on the oven. She gasped. “My buns are *done*.”

“Tale over, yes yes,” spoke Marsha “Pink” Krakow from the table in front of her. “How did you get home so soon? Work over already? It’s only 10:01 in the morning.” She stares ahead, like everyone else here except one. Evil out there, she knew. The one who didn’t stare out beyond the 4th said something to her. “*I’m* suppose to be Martha in this scene.” She rewords the same to Bob “Tom” Wassleburg offcamera (except substituting Pink for Martha), who just throws up his hands in exasperation. “It’s *Marsha*… stupid,” seethed the actor playing Marsha at the table. “We can’t let that one just *stand*. Can we?”

And so they knocked her over and additionally beat the crap out of her, scene over.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0515, River