Category Archives: 0615

May 10, 2024 · 7:06 am

00420615 (Endlessly Antipoison)

He’d been having dreams of Pansy Mouse again and going in a classical direction instead of rocking the day away like he had been. Wendy was showing him the way. He was less scared now of the ghostly spectre.

In one dream, Pansy handed him a list procured from behind the counter. On it: 52 single column words, including Asylum. Featuring Asylum, perhaps. Headliner. He must not run away from it. He needs to put it back in the file in Filetown.

—–

She came back in the wrong dress. He knew their time was limited, wanted to spend it in the best manner possible. “Walk with me,” he said. Reaching the balcony outside the bar and grill, he suddenly took her hand and flung them both over the rail…

… but they were okay — only 12 feet down. “Warn me the next time you do that!” complained winded Wendy, even though she landed rather gently as did he. Much harder to hurt yourself in Our Second Lyfe than up in reality. Barry learned that the hard way.

Onward through the construction warning signs. Barry knew this tunnel starting below the balcony would be safe as well; would take them to where it all ended. Heaven of sorts.

Midge looked on, unseen by Barry behind the dumpster. But not Wendy. Just by her look she knew they had found the file.

(to be continued)

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February 1, 2024 · 6:53 am

00410615

“Anything, Philip?” asked Billie who was a Bug again. It was the next morning and the men, the boys, had gotten a fairly good rest during the night. And like I said, Billie didn’t need any. She counted 256 pieces of modern art that strolled or slid or lurched (etc.) down the road in front of them during the night. Fantastic — all seemingly benign. Maybe there’s hope for the town after all.

He stared at the house and the queer windmill blades affixed to the roof. “Nah, nothing.” But he was working on his coffee and had yet to wake up. Moving on…

—–

“Then how about his one? According to the Rock Star wiki, you picked up a woman injured in a wreck along the highway and delivered her to this safehouse, either dead or alive, depending how fast you got here.”

“Maybe… rings a bell?” Coffee sipped and done with, he was getting fuzzy memories now, unlike with the windmill house. Things were starting to get jogged up there. A woman, huh? he thinks, trying to picture her face, her… wounds. Belly, he sensed. Accident on the road, yes. Fellow… criminal? But then the vision faded. Moving on to the next structure…

—–

This did the trick, if not initially. Philip felt compelled to stop and get out of the car and explore this time. Marion was fine with it, since they still had to eat anyway. Billie turned from a car to a person again — transformation unseen to anyone else as far as they could tell — and all 3 walked up to the establishment’s door, Philip all the time staring around, starting to clearly see the overlap. Bombay Beach to Sandy Shores. But in his mind there were *2* bars with the same design. How’d that work?

And it is here that we *really* end our current story/photo-novel.

“Let’s let Philip go first,” suggested Billie. And she and Marion stood back and watched him enter.

“I’m remembering!” But they’d have to find another place to dine.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0615, California, Google Street View, GTA

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November 10, 2023 · 8:17 am

00400615

In the morning it was all smoke and ashes anyway, the central cabin never standing a chance surrounded by a burning ring of fire. Millbank was dead, at least for another 10 or 11 months or so. Rock and his entourage found a secret portal inside the spiritually juiced piano he was playing so they’re okay. Zapppa is the key. Zapppa.

Marsha “Pink” Krakow looked up from the text she had just typed, thinking: Did all this really make sense? The reference to Zappa’s Civilization Phaze III again and people living inside a piano that he was so eager to explore toward the end of his life? And what happened to my Oz novel everyone here was so keen on? That’s it! she realized. They didn’t come out in Big Sandy but in Oz. And Alice Farrowheart the precious precocious child’s grandmother along for the ride; not being excluded this time.

In fact let’s go back in time and change something else.

Quickly twirling and catching Prontus Archereus (Archerus?) by surprise, Dr. Mouse uses the power of his cane to instead open up a portal in the wall which swiftly sucks up the bow and arrow into an oblivion of no return. De-armed, crudely drawn cartoon character Prontus was powerless before the menacing man of action.

Marsha ponders removing Prontus’ actual arms in the picture above to continue the joke but decides against it. Too late in the night to start all that.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0040, 0615, Bellisaria, Omega^^, Sandfly, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

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September 2, 2023 · 3:07 pm

00390615

And so we end with a waterfall which turns into a new river, replacing the old. Clean to filthy. Clear to chocolate. The overarching sim of River has been redeemed and revitalized from the top (4000m) down. In other words, the Void has spoken.

“Hey,” says Tronesisia to her quickly drying robot companions, prying her vision away from surfboarding Bart on the falls — couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “Check out the little clockwork people coming out of the building over there. Wonder if they have anything to do with this?

“Let’s go over and make friends.”

“Oh boy,” says my hot ass computer, ha, supporting 4 avatars in 4 separate windows at once.

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June 18, 2023 · 1:35 am

00380615

One last look around…

… before heading inside the pyramid again.

“He left the marbles and globes, Hucka. Spheres all.

“The bees are gone, I assume — he covered their formerly very active hole with rocks. He was planning a fire pit before I came along. No more threats there.”

“No.”

“*There* you are.”

“This was important,” she explained, leaving out the, “unlike most of your chattering.” Thanks, Hucka!

“So… should I return the toys?”

“Dot dot dot,” she answered. I knew what she meant.

But did I *really* know what she meant?

Thing is, there was another toy at Aloha and it wasn’t my own. Singular, unlike my many. Toy. Was he embarrassed? The Son of God, the founder of a potential religion like Xianity, with *that*? It was a bizarre sight. I couldn’t figure out what it was, yet all my toys were all around it that I had to pick up and gather together for moving. I couldn’t miss it; it stuck out, see. It was lying in the sun, soaking in the sun. Siren. Muse, even. You make do with what you have to. You are all alone in the woods. Time to bring back Thomasina, the pyramid itself.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0615, Blue Mountain, City Park, Lands End, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Rim Isles, Toy Avatars

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April 21, 2023 · 9:10 am

Nautilus/North/Rooster’s Peninsula

“Someone’s knocking at the door… Dorr.”

“Oh it’s probably just Shelley again. Ignore it this time. I don’t feel like walking down all those stairs again.”

“I hear ya.”

Dorr looks at her ordinary nails, at least compared to her companion Iss’ Edward Scissorhands like ones. She was thinking of her appearance from the last time. Crazy Blue outfit my ass. Drunk off her tits obviously.

“Maybe…” attempts Iss. “Maybe she really owns the place, like she said. Maybe… you should give it back to her. I’ve read the blog.”

“So have I,” shot Dorr back. She decides to end the suspense. She looks remotely at the visitor far far below, Azure a barrier between her and the inside.

But it wasn’t Shelley this time. Instead: Horns, Left and Right. What gives? she thinks. The Red Devil. Very unexpected!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0615, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula

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January 29, 2023 · 10:58 am

home?

Shelley Struthers testing out the redwoods near Somoco where we saw Wheeler Wilson and Baker Bloch earlier. She likes! Not Leni and the full pack of dances, but swell enough. Thumbs up, she gives us the reader while continuing, head screwed back on tightly as hell.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0615, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Towerboro

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November 26, 2022 · 2:34 am

singularity

Passing by on his way out of the Red Room and spotting it, he couldn’t help but ask — nay, *had* to ask, as he contemplated just a bit further. “Nurse Zombie,” he said, still staring at her carved up back from his angle. “Your year of death — I assume the date on your back is that.”

She nods her wobbling zombie nod, currently with only one responsibility to the ward: guard its newest and costliest machine, make sure no one messes with it until the experienced surgeon that can actually work the thing arrives from Beckman’s Folly day after tomorrow’s tomorrow.

“Is it suppose to be 2012, and, if so, what is the slash at the end?” he continues. “Or is it perhaps 2021, with the slash in the middle? I’m curious because of a conundrum I’m currently facing concerning those very years. And that very event, by which I mean: death.” The solution to his issue, he knew, could reside in this one. It seemed too synchy a confluence. “Can you help me?”

She couldn’t face away from the expensive machine she guarded with her dear dead life so she spoke with her back turned still. “One person,” she gurgled. “Knows.”

“Who?” No answer.

“Who??” No answer. The damaged back loomed large. The answer was already there.

(to be continued)

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September 26, 2022 · 1:59 pm

00340615

“I’m starting to like the classical view of Our Second Lyfe more than any other, like this standard midday environment here, Wheeler. I’m starting to think the original Lindens had it right at the beginning. Linden trees — never surpassed. Classic avatars…”

“Like me,” Wheeler jumped in. She smiled toward Newt, her husband past present future, if not her current boyfriend who was another. She was many things in one. Just like Newt, I mean, Baker. But not her boyfriend. A figurehead. A prime minster for a queen, king hidden away in the shadows still.

“Liz knows,” says Baker/Newt. “Shelley didn’t tell her but she knows. She’s older in a future kind of way.”

“Strange way to think of it (!),” replied self playing Wheeler. She was not as shape shifty as Newt/Baker, but superior in other directions. They were complements.

Pause as they took in the pretty environment below the revived Roost Castle. They’d followed Liz and Shelley there, since they were them.

“You know what Shelley said today — just a moment ago, actually.”

“That you were beautiful?”

“Yes.” She looked over at Newt expectantly. Would he say the same? Her legs were too long still, she felt. He didn’t think of them that way any more and said so. She needed reinforcement. The scars on her face from that steam accident were healing but still showed up in the mirror when she stared at it first thing in the morning.

But he was not her boyfriend. “You better get ready to play the role of grown-up Shelley. Coming up soon, you know, maybe this photo-novel, maybe postponed to the next. But she owns the castle. You is her,” he finalized.

We have a mystery in the middle which is the end.

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July 19, 2022 · 8:51 am

head and heart

IMPORTANCE OF CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS

I asked the patient’s mom about the skincare regimen they were using, including their choice of soap. The parent said they were using Ivory soap. She said the previous doctor said to use either Dove or Ivory.

Now that would be an odd thing to suggest. Typically, one might recommend a less drying cleansing product to an atopic, but Ivory wouldn’t normally be at the top of that list. Almost undoubtedly, the doctor said to use “Dove, not Ivory.” But it is quite understandable how a patient could misinterpret what was said.

Port Ivory is a coastal area in the northwestern corner of Staten Island, New York City, New York, United States. It is located on Newark Bay near the entrances the Kill van Kull in the east and Arthur Kill in the west….

The area bore the name of Milliken originally, and became locally known as Port Ivory after Ivory Soap, one of the best-known products from Procter & Gamble, which operated a factory at the site from 1907 until 1991 when the soap making operation was moved to Mexico.[1][2]

“I knew you’d be back. *Boyfriend*.” Mexican standoff.

“You know what I’m here for.” SHOOT SHOOT POP POP.

Red at the waist.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0615, Mexico, New Jersey, New York, Wendy-Ontario

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