Category Archives: 0608

baddest Brown in the whole damn town

He came into the place and offered his services, saying he was the best in his business. The big boss asks, of what? Cartooning? Yes, that was it, precisely the job Leroy needed to fill. When big Jim *L.* Brown left several years later with his budding comic strip mega-franchise in tow, he took his name and also called the paper that because of the growing fame. “Brownsville Herald” it became from that point on. He: Leroy Brown. There was no other at the time so he was both the best and worst, you see. He could use both descriptions but chose the latter for street cred. Another employee named Jim Crochet Wedding Dress walks into a church and pens a famous song about the decision, expertly marrying word with tune in what turned out to be a long standing relationship indeed, enabling him to quit the roller coaster gig (see: 00390508 exactly one section ago) and work for another as well. Leroy was losing employees good and bad right and left. He needed fresh faces.

Just age eligible Tammy Beige Brown walks over from Home to apply for the post she heard through the grapevine (thanks Raisins!). That *name*, thinks Leroy when she introduced herself and her 3 monikers. She *must* be the new star!

—–

Tammy wished she’d never put away the canvas in favor of the camera. “Tom Banks at your service,” the company man introduced himself on top of the Brown part of the paper. “I’m here for the shoot.” She gasped as he raised his arm in greeting — old, forgotten memories kicking in — which made him laugh, certainly inappropriate for the scene, Tammy felt. Her palms were sweating, her face was twitching in the nervousness. Continued snickering. The laugh of one with no soul.

“Relax, child, I’m only the photographer,” and then remembered to add calligrapher as he moved toward her to prepare.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0608, River

investigators

“Perfectly round,” spoke the first.

“Perfect triangle,” uttered the second.

“Perfectly… hold on,” said the third closer to the center of it all. “What’s this?”

“Nauty,” spoke the just appearing pincushion voodoo doll to Square and the rest, pins in place just there there and there. “I come from Jasper. Jasper Falls to be concise.” Knowing of their needs, he took them there.

—–

“This is where I live,” he said to Triangle who had absorbed the other two for the moment. Just to simplify things and reduce lag. “These are my roommates Jennifer Lane and Biff Carter. Keith B., the third, is out traveling again. 3 — just like you guys.” He takes a gander at Triangle’s singular face. “I mean — *normally*. But we here are like that too,” he explains. “There is really no one here but me. I live alone. And yet these are my mates. Playmates more than roommates. You’d get along with Biff especially. He’s an investigator. Like you.”

Triangle let Square have a turn to look over at Biff, study his figure. Then Circle did the same with Jennifer. “Perfect,” said the third for all, and leaned back and turned triangular once more, satisfied with the sights. He thought of the end.

He laid down to sleep as host Nauty comforted him the best he could. A lullaby about shapes I believe.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0608, Nascera, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File

faceless x 2

“I was experimented on.”

“Your mother should have never gotten involved.”

“No.”


painting the Azure Door

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0608, 0609, Google Street View, New Mexico

00370608

He is greeted in Heaven by the Man in the Middle, the Man About Time, some say. Just that damn important.

The knowledge and power of the center of it all, Fife to some, was drying up. Time to heal. Time to drive the Chevy to the levee, or at least a Dodge. Man About Time was waiting. On his heels drunk.

June 14, 2012 – the pond at Fife’s Grove Park. It has since been reconstructed.

The fated journey actually started here In Real Life, in the shadow of Pink Peak and exactly on the perimeter of the encompassing 1 square mile pink circle I’ve put around it. Shine is the place of the drinks. Brookshine, let’s say, a portmanteau of sorts, and with the trailhead of perhaps now inaccessible — because of the poison ivy and all — Mystery Gorge just beyond.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/19/00320507/

Once she was Alysha. He sighs, thinking of his former girlfriend, like if Thelma Lou left Barney for Sherriff Andy Taylor, attracted to the shine of the bigger badge. Another King over Bishop (or Rook) situation, then. Or a King’s Bishop anyhoot.

note: Throne House on the other side of Blue Mtn. from Pink Peak (place of Turtle Head) on this map may actually be Tyrone. Texas Pete. Gonna play with that.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/20/00320509/

“*Miss* Ouri,” Man About Time dutifully wanted to say but held his almost always mild tongue. No need to bring Texas Pete into this, his mama always said about verbal acidities. She trained him well; he absorbed everything he could from her. Poor Mama, he lamented. Hanging with the angels now.

And that’s about the last we see of Man About Time until now, speaking time-wise.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0608, 0609, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, Red Hill

castle deity

“See? He likes you. He’s staring at you instead of me.”

“And…” said Lucas to the left of us, the reader or readers, “… you are?” He had to ask. The other seemed oblivious to the transformation that happened while they walked up the hill to here, not really a chance meeting since the town wasn’t that big.

“Baker. Baker Bloch. We just looked at the Falls Shack together the other day. You pay me rent. 15 bucks a month.”

“You are not Baker,” spoke Lucas. “Or at least the Baker I know.”

“Well of course–” Baker Bloch looked down at his non-gloved hands, his olive drab shirt, his black-gray shoes and pants. He was not the Baker he knew.

“Explain,” said Lucas. “Explain everything. Start with Carrcassonnee. How did you come up with such a krazy kooky name?”

—–

I Carr,

I sat today with blog owner and blog stranger or newcomber. They asked me questions about my source. I, Carr, came up with something. Rrrrr. RRRRrrrrr. Rrr Rrr RRRRrrrrrrr. I start (continual raspberry noise).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0608, Jeogeot, Kentucky, Middleton, Towerboro

00350608

“We’ll never get out of here, Vineyard, you know that. They’re not going to stop until we’re all dead.”

Wizard Wells’ fellow winged companion in the moment was staring at Shelley’s shirt, trying to forget his troubles. “What is… Pepper?”

“Old sham presidential candidate,” she answers. “Same with this.” She changes into another.

“Nifty,” says leafy, veiny Vineyard, also wondering about the black hands. Was she turning black overall? Yin (back) into Yang? Maybe its just the panic from the impending… doom. After a moment of lightness, his heart sinks again.

—–

“You’re next, Magenta,” guard Jettison called through the chain fence topped with barb wire. “You free ones can’t flitter away from us forever. We’re working on it, mind you. We’ll get there.”

It was a kind of threat Magenta heard every day around 2 o’clock. When she showed up to encourage her friend’s cousin Wizard. Hang in there, she thought from her tree. The outer one hadn’t given up hope even as the inner one resigns to termination.

But what was Shelley doing here in a fairy concentration camp?

Let’s try something else for more clarification:

Yikes, *another* one, thought Harlie, now up above it all in a large guard tower station. The purple cubes were appearing *everywhere*.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0608, Little Hell+, Omega, Southern

Bonnie &

“Your dog’s standing on my foot, right?”

“Hand it over!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0608, Nautilus, NORTH, Slaashsides

the picture resolves

Ebony and… Dove?

—–

I thought I saw someone standing behind my sister today on her rock.

I’ll have to ask her about it.

“Ivory?!” she calls over in her wee fae voice from her huge oak stump. No answer. That wasn’t the name of her sibling pixie any longer. Thanks to Greenleaf.

There! “Who’s that then!?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0608, Jeogeot, Towerboro

Frank Park/Bull Mountain photos

Area 54 (where are you?).

A welcoming sight in the woods (reversed; w/ balancing male and female rock piles).

Detail.

Bottle tree. Just been added to the day before this photo was taken.

Sitting Bullrock (not to be confused w/ much larger Bullrocks way up the mountain slope; maybe rename one or the other; this is where I *sit*).

In a different meadow: both a white-ish golf ball and large-ish white rock (“Diamond”) placed here.

This overall location framed by the 2 welcoming sight rock stackings is *mysterious*.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0608, 0609, Bill Mountain, Frank Park

dream 009 (one after 909)

“Aww *raspberries*!” he cussed after running me over in his little purple car, him with his curly purple hair and dark, tall attitude and altitude. *Finally*. I’d been asking for it since John F. Kennedy City when Jeffrey Phillips almost did it with red. He prodded me with his foot to make sure, but I was sure dead all right, raspberry beret crushed and mixed into a bigger mess that was formerly my somewhat dense but pretty enough head. Maw was right. You can’t be in two places at once when… can’t remember the rest.

He could never have me.

He withdraws foot from leg, knowing it was The End.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0608, 0609, Nautilus, Omega, Retirement Islands, The Cross, Wild West