Category Archives: 0616

00320616

“W-what?” He could scarcely believe his ears. Wheeler wanted Collagesity to stay! She wasn’t going to lend him the money until she heard the “I do”. And she wants to still get married on top of everything else! In Collagesity! Which will go on, she said, one hand in the other. “We will be married to Collagesity as well,” she ended her shocking spiel. Marriage, membership, premium land and rental land retainment, all together.

She takes another bite of her plumeria sandwich and then says she’s just joking, and do whatever you want with the land and then she gave me the money without hesitation, touching me and sending L$1500 into my bank account.

“Now about that tic tac toe game…”

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022 EARLY”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0616, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

Z to A (257)

Retirement presents all around; manual: done.

We begin again, *tired* but then fresh and newborn.


“Tiinaaaaa!”

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022-2021 WINTER”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0616, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West

00300616

With her kids shoes and grown up hair, Alysha was more red than ever. She even had a red door to her office here near the center of Squared Root City, where I’ve decided to end this particular section of “Collagesity 2020-2021 Winter”. But not the (photo-)novel itself — I don’t think. Haven’t quite made up my mind yet, actually. Anyhoot, we’re back, Alysha is in charge again, *not* Fern Stalin, and ditzy blonde Lichen Roosevelt is merely along for the ride, at least that’s what the other 2 think.

Alysha hangs up the phone. Herbert Glenn Gold is okay — she just wanted to check. April Mae is back in prison over in Collagesity. Good. She speaks to the people present.

“So you see, Lichen, Fern, we’ve been working on three different scripts ever since, well, I guess, since the last director left.”

“That’s *me*,” interjected Fern, still sharp as a tack. “Why are you *there* and I’m *here*?”

“Well, that’s the basic problem,” explained Alysha, the same age and also intelligence as myself, actually. A bit dimmer than Fern, perhaps, but one up on Lichen in that department. If only she had Lichen’s comic timing, though, she often laments. Back to business: “It started — or we picked up on it — with a phone call from this very town — just right over there at one of the coffee shops.” She tries to determine if she can see it from this direction but decides she can’t. Took her just a minute to get her bearings. Fern silently thinks she would know such a detail *before* the meeting started and not embarrass herself with such a thing in the middle. Lichen was thinking of an Abbot and Costello type dialog involving the confusion of “here” and “there”, but she hadn’t gotten very far. Fern can’t wait. She puts forth what she knows.

“So *I* have the blue script, since I’m ahead of everyone else — July apparently. “Then you have the white one in front of you there, Alysha — or you did — anyway, we can collage that in later — then Lichen has red — or pink — to end. Even further back. May.” She turns to Lichen. “May, dearest?”

“W-what?” Costello was about to find out the center fielder’s name was I Don’t Know.

“The date on the script, beautiful. May? April?” Fern then recalls it is actually April and continues with her theories, ignoring Lichen’s fumbling through the pages attempting to determine a date.

Alysha jumps in before the bazooka that is her mind starts firing again. “We are all one.”

“That’s what I was just about to say (!). We are all one core. Wheeler Wendy Wilson.” The full name — Fern *must* be serious, the other two think at the same time. “The 3 faces of Al — Anselmo.”

“Right, right,” Alysha tried again. “Ansel…”

“… also reverberates with Adams the black and white photographer, yes.” Fern with the upper hand again. She rarely loses it. Unless a name like Helmet Newton comes up. Which it did next.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0616, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Squared Root City

treatise

She wasn’t f-ing around any more. She owned the Dixie Belle gambling boat and all the characters that had passed through this here photo-novel, 29 in a series… Just: 29 in a series. She had complete control, *not* Alysha. Alysha was left back on Maebaleia — I’m not sure why but there you go. Now we have blonde Lichen Roosevelt. And, with her, dark haired Fern Stalin. And then the 3rd, but not red headed Alysha (or Wendy). Fern originally thought it would be similarly red Indian Wells, 1/2 brother to Rose Wells and the one she was studying for the Crabwoo Revitalization Project or Blue Feather Reinvestment Initiative or whatever the f- they’re calling it these days. Buster brought in Duncan to protect, then changed his mind and assigned White Mage to the case, but has, again, changed his mind because of Dixie (Belle). Duncan indeed does have karma involved. He pulls out a fish taco to eat on a break from acting. It almost reaches his mouth before he remembers the boy. George! I left him back in VHC City to fend for his own! He must be, jeez, 17 now? Maybe 18. I believe his birthday is Tuesday (of last week’s month). Oh (relief!). He now remembers he left the boy with his Aunt Clare, his *sister*. They didn’t have the same mother but it was close enough. Last time he spoke to him George was having more dreams about Yelloo. That’s where we should head next (Fern directs — former director Percy Pierce assigned to another “film”). The border between granite and snow. The ultimate division between Tennessee interior and Kentucky exterior. Like Static…

—–

“I see,” she muttered after turning page 15 and starting to read 16. “Cowabunga *is* a misdirection, interesting.” 5 seconds later she turns another page.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0616, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

Carrcassonnee: a little batty

“We’ve got to get you back to Collagesity and remove Perch and see what went wrong!”

“IIIIIIIIIIIII.”

END OF “SUNKLANDS PHOTO-NOVEL 28″!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0616, Paper Soap, Soap

res(e)t

“Alright enough of this mumbo jumbo hoochie koochie stuff, Minister (same as the funeral home director, conveniently enough). Let’s just get it over with and open the coffin.” Petty was inpatient to see what the Anomaly of this amalgamated town, Paper-Soap, was actually like. A plasmic entity as the sheriff suspected, one Wilbur Marshallford of Pennsylvania, Indiana? A luminous, demonic birthday hat as Koyla, Stu Umbriel, and now black-not-Indian Chief thought, product of that ill advised party and decisions made there? Probably glowing then, wouldn’t you think?

“Just as I suspected,” Chef-inspector Petty continued after the coffin lid had been raised mentally by all attending. “This plot is empty; Ruby is no longer in this world. Only a figurative diamond remains. But to whose hands? Who is wedded to the grave?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0616, Paper Soap, Soap

secret schweet

And so we end where we began: on No Tor hill in Leemington seen in the distance in that last photo, following young Alysha around again searching for that ship of hers.

The hill is like an ant to her, in that she is her ant. She crawls forward, scrambling to the top, eager to have a better perspective on which to build further, view farther. Let’s zoom in.

Just gotta get up over this rock, *ugh*, and smooth sailing.

Good. She’s at the peak. Now to ratchet out the draw distance to the max and see what we have. MAX

She’s happy she can peer beyond the Green Between from Lower Austra into Upper Austra, most likely where Ruby Alien will be released day after Wednesday’s yesterday. I believe it will be the 5th. Doctor Paul Mouse will cave into local pressure and bring her to the proper authorities, meaning the actual, qualified doctors who are able to deal with such things. Check her out, let her go. Maybe she’ll make her way into the great, empty city of Perch-Mistletoe, she thinks it is called, a doorway between dimensions where one kisses another and won’t let go. She knows this is the two sides of herself, 13 to 13, evened out now; Nautilus (continent) complete. But it won’t be in this photo-novel.


Perch-Mistletoe

The continent remains a conundrum, a mystery. 32×32 sims, 41 times the size of Collagesity’s localized 5×5 we just exited back there. And that 5×5 is hard enough to understand as it is (!).

Alysha and SEAN Green, Mr. Michigan, look to one of the far corners filled out in the past two novels, with more Nautilus fun to come. NW NE SE and, with this one, SW. Jeffrie Phillips in a Santa outfit floats on Little George Lake — or just Lake — waiting for 2 blue eyed pools to become one blue eyed pool so that he can proceed with the examination of the Arkansas book, which appears to be the same as the Oracle. He’s taken it back to Collagesity still in the middle of it all, or at least Lower Austra. He’s starting to study it intently, with help from sometimes wife, sometimes girlfriend, always lover Charlene the Punk Brown, currently rocking a hot pink babydoll for him. They’ll probably remain childless though; he has too many mistresses on the side, which Charlene allows now, or rather puts up with. *Barely*.

She takes off the babydoll, intent one more time to get Jeffrey to forget about all those others.

END OF “COLLAGESITY PHOTO-NOVEL 26”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0616, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Michigan, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Rim Isles, Upper Austra^

army of one

Bestie, as I liked to call him, was always the best. He constantly pointed out to me when I was down and out that I was a writer as well as an artist, and to find the balance between the two represented my path in life.

The path between the canvas and the typewriter here led to… mom? Suisan? I had to find out (again). And to somehow avoid Schuman without the extra N if possible. Don’t piano around with fiddles! I was on my way. “Thanks Bestie!” I called back, thanking him. He tipped his mustard colored metal helmet at me in parting, however brief. He would return. He was almost a constant shadow, as they say, in that I’m able to muster him up in any time of trouble. Like now! How to end photo-novel 25, a series of 1. Forward! (hup hup hup)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0616, Hana Lei^^, The Waste^^

odessey and oracle

—–

It’s not about The Zombies. It’s the lighting, phew!

“Now let’s get out of here,” she said to herself, detaching the machete and the basket for the cut off heads before returning to The Line after adjusting her environment appropriately. Lightening up! Now all she had to do was find the Valentine twins and choose between the two: Natha Neil or Nata Lee?

—–

“Tealy?”

“Yes, Tillie?” They had almost weeded out all the infected plants from the garden. 3 days of toil and anguish. But no way could they eat most of this stuff. Giganticism!

“How would you like to… visit Aunt Ginger for Valentine’s Day?”

Must have been all the thoughts about the size of things that made her want to do this, Tealy rationalized. But she had other reasons.

—–

She affected the local speech. “Arrr. There be Randolph the Bastard Pirate and his three cornered hat.” She pushed the plate full of apples, oranges, bananas closer to him as he approached. “Ready to see which way the fruit swings?”

He sat down. He was ready.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0616, Continent's Edge, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands, Rubisea

Comedian

“Were you seen, Jupiter?”

Jupiter? But Groover remembered who he was at the core. Jupiter, yes. “I don’t think so.” He thought back to the visit by Tickie this morning, intent on finding him and taking him back to an aspiring cryptozoologist in his hometown for study and perhaps fame and fortune, or so the Undertaker said. For he is the illusive, the one and only Knob Noster! Well, there were three of us, counting the wife and the kid. He needs to send them a postcard.

“What about the other fellow, the Man About Town it said in his outfit description? I wonder: *what* town? The same as Tickie’s? They didn’t seem to know each other that well. Did they?” She turned her scowling face toward Groover, wishing reciprocation.

“MAT, yes. I mean, no. They didn’t seem to know each other that well. He must be in on it. Why would he come to the Game Room to meet with him otherwise. Certainly not to play *Pac-man*.”  Jupiter/Groover here makes an imitation of a pac-man gobbling up ghosts and the like with his pac-man-like mouth. Understanding the Anti-Bart reference, Olive Oylstick still finds it only mildly funny. More is afoot now. She stares out again at the… tree? Is that what this is in the space formerly occupied by the House of Joy?

Groover gasps. “There it is again (!). Sideways.”

Olive Oylstick had an insight. “Do that thing with your mouth again you just did.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0616, Bellisaria, Four Corners