Category Archives: Hana Lei^^

November 10, 2020 · 11:33 am

no grim

“Daaaanger,” Edwin the ghost moaned in warning. But Halloween Jack had to find out what lie ahead. The cold, the *contrast*, irresistibly drew him in.

Jack hesitated just beyond where the drab ground turned white, making his shoes wet.

What are these particles of light falling from the sky? He lets one alight on his skeletal tongue. Delicious! Frozen water, melting in the mouth almost upon touch. The ground is composed of these, he realizes. No melt this time! He tries to watch it build up around a nearby evergreen tree but doesn’t have the patience. So much to see! He marches forward, moistened feet be damned.

What’s this? A fellow sentient being? Made of the same ice?? “Hellooo!”

“Howdy!” the snowman cheerfully replied, indeed alive during the season. “Welcome to Christmas! Or thereabouts,” he tacks on. Jack smiled broadly. Sally is going to *love* it here, he thinks.

Soon they were together listening to Snowmanster play a selection of her favorite holiday tunes.

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November 1, 2020 · 12:51 pm

00220616

Barry DeBoy stares at the blank canvas he knows he must fill in soon. CITY, a concept that must be born if the city itself is to be saved. Almost a 90 percent chance of it now. He’ll take the odds.

He pinches himself to make sure he’s awake (he is). Wearing the red tie has made him nervous about that down through the months — before, he was always dreaming when he had it on. No more. Something happened: a reversal, a change of heart even, he senses. Miss Graham has given it back. But why?

“It was me,” Hucka Doobie spoke at a nearby table. “Come on into the picture. PICT ON PICT. Come on,” she urged.

“What’s he doing?”

“She. But that’s what we have to find out. Temple.”

“Wheeler. Of course.”

“Yes.”

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October 30, 2020 · 5:13 am

Snowmanster

He was dreaming again, hence the tie. “This is a little f-ed up,” he said to the woman nearby, who didn’t reply. No, he didn’t like this place. He had found a limit. Wendy would not be his daughter or something. He’d leave all that to Toothpick and Elberta and their Deep South ways (!). He’d have to talk to Eraserhead Man about this shoot, compare it to DaBob in that other production he worked in, the one less famous. Or was it more famous. Snap out of it, snap out of it! he cried inside while snapping his fingers, which, of course, passed through each other. Tarboo Bay, DaBob, The Twins… they were all together; all in on this. What does it mean? He better get Wendy to safety and out of the shiny light of revealing film while she’s still wearing that dress. He knows a guy who knows a guy in Snowlands who has a remote-ish cabin kind of tucked away in some small woods, getting smaller by the month but Barry DeBoy doesn’t know that in the present. He’d only find out about the deforestation of Purden in the future through a rogue Snowman gone good instead of the usual bad but still with a bad Santa, one called Satan, an obvious anagram (too obvious). The Snowman’s name is… well, let’s just wait. Regular readers of this here blog and derivative photo-novels probably already know the name. Let’s just make it the title of this here post.

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October 21, 2020 · 5:31 pm

Breezy

Turns out it was all just a dream. The pink plastic couch Andy Warhole sat upon while fellow artist Barry DeBoy dreamed lying down on the same is gone, and the 2 rooms of the apartment have indeed merged, just like Andy wished. Dreams and reality are certainly getting mixed up in ol’ NWES City, soon to be changed to NWES Town if certain members of the city council had their way, in reaction to all the “cities” springing up around it, like arrogant, belligerent suburbs. First there was Zen City, then Meat City. The list goes on. And then there’s Collagesity, which had the audacity to neatly and tightly integrate itself into the very fabric of NWES City and become one with it almost, another insult to the term. How could something call itself a city (or sity in this case) and be so much smaller than NWES City, lost in the coattails like a small child to a towering mother. No, these *satellites* must not be termed cities. It is wrong. And in comic reaction the mother who has the only real claim to the name (it feels) might instead abort it.

But we digress. We need to find out the whereabouts of Barry DeBoy. Poor thing: he’s lost his original home in the city to fire (Norm the Cashier’s Flower Shop), and then the apartment with the pink couch, as we’ve mentioned, is all just a dream. We must find out where he’s *really* dreaming, physically that is. He *must* have a location in town, er, the city — let’s not move too fast on that.

—–

He is dreaming again of his beach, searching for the one who also gave up red but with no physical presence yet found.

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October 18, 2020 · 10:42 am

zzz www

Later they all ate sushi with oversized toothpicks at Black Diamond’s. Big Wanda with “deflated horns”, as I’ve called her floppy pigtails, was in charge, Spore’s plan in action. Master judo samurai Black Diamond (background) gave Little Oakley Annie the honorable name Green River during a pre-meal tea ceremony and her mama the name Kummer, which was short (he explained) for, “coming mother”. Or so that’s what they thought he meant. We were working with places in Washington again, switched from Illinois switched from Mississippi. Faulkner had no hold here, the Rule of the 100 and the way of fame and fortune conveniently forgotten. Zzz was not about Faulkner, nope. This was the mother, this was the father, but not the son, the fruity one.

Big Wanda spoke. “Little Annie Oakley, *sorry*, Green River, has fallen asleep again, cutting zzz’s instead of being in the moment. Too much fighting in life will do that, drain you of the oh-so-precious life force because you have done so with others.” She turns. “But you’re holding up well, Old Grey. How’s that floating device going?”

“Pretty good,” Old Grey admitted, knowing indeed what is holding her up and propelling her forward. Snowmanster and she will be at the tree again soon. In fact: they’re there.

“Interesting,” Core-Alena says to begin in his-her feminine/masculine voice and staring toward Old Grey’s way.

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October 18, 2020 · 10:42 am

zzz aaa

“Now. Isn’t that a lot better than that nasty old gun, eh? Corona-V. Won’t let you down, hehe. 9 out of 10 pirates — *recommend*.”

“Who *are* you?” she said to the tiny green creature on the pool’s edge beside her with the projecting, announcer-like voice. She was getting use to honing in on the frequency, like a small radio that blends into background noise at first.

“Why I’m a *friend*, a guiding spirit if you will, yes.” Spore rubs his miniature hands together in diabolic glee. Plan Z was working perfectly. Except he’s decided to trim the name down to Pan-Z to separate it from that other guy with a plan about the canal that didn’t work so well. NWES City remains in pieces. “Now just rellaaxx and forget *all* about that awful black swamp, eh? Settle back. You remain a star, don’t worry. I’ll be back shortly.” He patters off, still rubbing his hands and snickering underneath his breath. Oakley Annie floats and sips for a while, thinking of the past.

“You use to be *my* friend,” Big Wanda with new doo spoke, sitting up for emphasis.

“Well things change, what can I say.” She looked over. “What happened to your horns, the thing that gave away your sign?”

“Aww, got tired of them.” She patted her hornless head, indicating her pigtailed hair she replaced them with; kind of floppy horns if you will; deflated almost. “Looked much better on the other version of Elberta I have,” she opined about it, “the one that was going to marry–”

“Don’t tell me,” Oakley Annie beams with new psychic insight because of the brew; in the dark no more. “Toothpick.” She cackles. “*That’s* what Spore was going on about with the guy with the failed plan, ha.”

“You’re not the only one who’s dead here, Oakley Annie. I am too.”

“I know.” She almost reaches back into the box to produce a beer for Big Wanda but then remembers this is all imaginary; in her head. Big Wanda was not dead, not yet. She hasn’t tasted cool happiness at the end of a long, dusty trail.

Another sip (*ahhhh*). Spore says she can stay in his land for as long as she wants, and she has nowhere to go. Could be a while (*sip*).”Who can I speak to next? Who will fill that vacant hole of a zero doughnut this time?”

She trembles despite the good vibrations. “Mom?”

Truly dead this time.

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October 18, 2020 · 10:41 am

string theory

Dinner Girl often dreams she is her great great grandmother Din Din, or at least her winged statue in NWES City’s huge police station harboring a vast law enforcement system. Liberating the city of all men who don’t understand or submit and making unions with like-minded strong, weapon toting women across the globe, like the Amazonians. Great people they are, great tribe. Except for the, well, sawing, and I’m not referring to snoring here. What is *left* is the one. Leforest should know, now called Phyllis in this here blog and blog derived photo-novel 22… well, you know. Leforest Bresford. Let’s see what she’s up to. And where the *heck* did Hucka Doobie go? Oh well… on with the show. The show must go on, as Mercury X. Rising once sang to complement the going insane one.

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October 15, 2020 · 8:18 am

zzz again

He finally figured out how to remove the giant acorn of a head. He was relieved to find his own head still within, or perhaps it just grew there, like a seed in a pod, ready to hatch forth at the right moment. He pulled and pulled and pulled and finally it was there. Fully formed, seemingly. But the bikini top and especially bottom with attached tail remained. That was part of the new body apparently, part of the assimilation. 2 Sandy’s in one now. One Piece Sandy again. He had (seemingly?) woken up, but not in a good way.

And to top it all off now,  he had big hands, like the greeter at the door of Bar FF. Odd name; he couldn’t think of what the initials could stand for. Probably something Japanese related, he realized. He couldn’t see the writing on the wall while staring down at monstrous appendages.

Sandy wasn’t alone at the bar. “I believe you know my father,” the 1/2 snow 1/2 sponge being spoke over.

—–

Snowbob’s *mother* Snowmanster exits the closet again, looks around. “Well *this* is different. Underwater, eh. And apparently I can breathe underwater, lucky me. Now to find Old Grey once… oh. There you are!”

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October 15, 2020 · 8:18 am

sawing noise

“I am glad we finally get to meet face to face, er, Other Sandy.”

“Sure ‘nuf! Have you read the fairy tale book yet. Allll this turns into a big fat pumpkin in the end, or in my case, an acorn!”

“Yes, I picked up a copy of ‘Fairy Tales’ from one of these zzz houses but it then disappeared from my hands after I read that particular page.” Dream selves, Sandy thinks to himself here. Synchronicity in action.

“Yeah, this is where it allll goes down, Mr. Other Sandy.” Southern drawled Sandy Chic with acorn wide cheeks was glad that Sandy Beech didn’t pee in front of her at the lake, although the bear, being less self conscious because of the wild animal thing and all, couldn’t resist. He put down the rod and pulled out his rod, hehe. Wait. She stared over. She was thinking the thoughts of both of ’em. Gosh darn shoot!

“I hear you are from Texas, Sandy Chic,” Sandy Beech speaks over, perhaps unaware of the total synchronicity between them in the moment while looking at maps in his head. “That’s a big state for a, um…”

“Big squirrel? Were you going to say big…”

“I didn’t mean–”

“Hiiiii YA!” Sandy Beech’s head was detached from his body by Sandy Chic’s mighty karate chop across the dining booth. Spongebub would be proud.

Yet Sandy’s bodiless noggin still thought. He realized he had really always been in this form. A talking head.

——

“Annnnnd CUT! That was great, Sandy. BOTH of you! I smell an Emmy the size of TEXAS awaiting us!”

“Umm. Is he alright?” Sandy Chic had assumed the body.

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October 15, 2020 · 8:18 am

y not

Investigation of Diamondfyre’s Planet X parcel coinkydinkally led me to a sim called zzz, which I assume is last in an alphabetized list of such. I sit across a small lake from a dream version of myself we’ve seen once before in this here photo-novel (22 of 20), white rabbits on her side and a bear and a red capped snowman on mine. The bear is not pissing into the lake although it may appear that way from this angle, and he will probably be pissing in it soon enough given all the beer he’s been drinking with me. I might be too if it weren’t for the female cartoon squirrel Sandy soberly staring toward us on the opposite side.

Here let’s turn the camera a bit for the next photo so you can clearly see Francis (bear) is fishing just like me, and also view the roaring waterfall marking the source of the stream that flows into the lake. Source and Lake, then, just like in that game at the temple with all the tiles, starting with The River (here).

So we sit at the beginning of TILE in effect, or the end of the beginning. We have equated this River with the Amazon, and in at least one other post, the Mighty Mississippi of our US of A. But what we are building, in toto, is obviously the Earth around The River, perhaps square shaped like the box the game Carcassonne comes in but also perhaps not. Depends on if we’re happy or unhappy maybe.

I didn’t really notice how much Sandy Chic’s head is shaped like an acorn until I photographed her remotely from behind. Good one Spongebub Squaredpants creators. And good one MAPS creators, because we have this in KY.

Squib next to Sandy Gap next to Acorn also obviously represents another Spongebub character Squibward, because the expression “damp squid” is sometimes mistakenly phrased “damp squib,” like with some in the IT profession who are smart on technology but not as sharp with words. And we already know that SS’s Spore plays an important role in photo-novel 22. In fact, there he is again at a (non-horseshoe) curve in The River representing the Amazon and/or the Mississippi (or the Nile or the Yangtze or the fill in the blank). What could he be pondering with his computer wife Karen Y.?

Of course. Plan Z!

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