Category Archives: MISTY MO^^

September 15, 2021 · 7:41 am

scenes from a hat

He woke up in a fetal position on top of yet another fox. She spoke without turning from the even redder couch, wearing an even redder dress.

“How dare you think you can come to the White Palace in the skies and not alert *me*.”

He was groggy. He couldn’t make out exactly what was said. He raised up off of the plush fox, so soft. Like a blanket. He wanted to sleep forever, he realized. But… he must remain alert. Danger! He recalls: danger.

“You can leave Sepisexton,” she spoke over to the robot guard more in the background. “I want to talk to the *boy* alone.”

——

“It was always destiny that I come to this Misty MO and find love, Hucka.”

“Hucka?” He wakes.

“Charlene.”

Groggily; just waking up as well: “Yes?”

—–

“Okay you must tell me what you did with Jeffrey Phillips, shirt-less boy. *Now*.”

The green door opened. A presence was there.

—–

Trying to ignore rats, Dr. Mouse stands before the green door. The green phone on the front desk rings. It’s Claude.

—–

Geez I think my ears are ruptured.

There. It’s fixed.

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September 11, 2021 · 10:12 am

Boos (narcissist 02 (abcdE))

She finds herself in a place doing realistic things, like blow drying her hair. But this is the morning she finds out she is actually a man. She stares into the mirror, looking at them after the removal of the false, the fake. How deflating!

The mayor’s nose keeps growing. Guy visits the doctor again, still working for the resistance. A new strategy is being hatched. Stealing the golden goose egg *has* produced results. He’s straightened out, elongated: the I of TILE revealed.

(to be continued)

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September 10, 2021 · 8:38 am

(wo-)man in black

He unfortunately found himself on the opposite side of the Greek village from the parish, staring into a mirror and admiring himself. Typical.

Later he went down to visit John. Jack was now playing the preacher, churches over liquor stores. A marriage was taking place. John was not allowed to perform marriages. Not after Reno.

“We need to *talk*,” he hissed over as the “I dos” were spilled out like fine wine.

“Meet me at the bar,” he whispered calmly back. Bells rang out. It was over.

(to be continued?)

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September 10, 2021 · 7:59 am

stepping out

John thought and thought and realized he wanted a Corona-V. “The new one,” he uttered in calm, stoic way, fit for a Man of Faith. Lamb was behind him now, supporting him, uplifting his career. He must get back to the parish. “I hate to do it but cancel that, Jack.” Man of Science was not amused. “John, *how* am I suppose to keep in bus–“, but he was cut short. John had disappeared (again). Jack re-turned. “I guess this one’s on you,” which user Peter Oesso didn’t argue with.

Come on, *dance* with me boys, the blue haired witch requested in her mind from the corner. Soon they were with her.

—–

“*Just* escaped, whew!”

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September 8, 2021 · 9:14 am

Rubys

“Do you like my last painting. This one was successful — not sure about the present one. I call it… “Ship in Disguise.”

Indeed she couldn’t tell if the ship was in the water or in the sky. 1/2 and 1/2.

—–

We will return to this place, but other plot lines must now be followed.

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September 8, 2021 · 6:19 am

the wedding of Winsor and Newton (damsel in this dress (embarrassed zebra))

“MO like on a ship?”

“Plane. But a plane is a ship in the sky.”

—–

We land in Misty MO again. Someone steps out of the plane. I believe it might be Jennifer M. Friend but I’m a little discombobulated tonight admittedly. I’m on a straight diagonal toward Endgame but can I reach it? I had a sister.

I had a sister.

—–

He looks away from where he’s been and thinks about the present.

—–

He wasn’t happy with his latest painting — “Parasols” — and he’d run out of green paint as well. Irritation tonight. A big black fly zoomed around the room, sometimes landing on his painting as if it were a window outta here. And perhaps it was.

“Jerry?” he called over. “Wanna go on a walk?” He was trying to be as cheerful as possible, given his mood.

Jerry, she thinks. Is that who he believes he’s sleeping with? The *ex*?

“Hardly.”

He recognized the voice. “Flo?”

“Jerry… went home.” Flo wondered if he still had a relationship with “Mr. Green,” given that he had none. She couldn’t tell if the painting was dry or not. She went into the other room of the Greek village apartment, hovered over him.

“H-how?”

“Tell me if that’s Wet Glaize. Or Dry Glaize.” She stood her ground, allow him to absorb the shock of her presence here on this romantic isle in disguise. Instead: trap.

“Wet Glaize *is* Dry Glaize,” he uttered automatically, bringing in more memories.

—–

She couldn’t tell. They next went outside to drink and catch up and look at the view. She turned away from the blue, not wanting to be reminded of crosses. Because she remembers. Greg Ogden was… well, she didn’t want to think of it right now. The bastard pirate!

“Do you even remember Ruby the green alien,” she complained after finishing one glass of wine and beginning another. I believe it was her 5th. “Where did you *leave* her?”

Green, he thinks. Where did I leave green?

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September 6, 2021 · 3:52 pm

00280413

“What does it say about this place? This: MO?”

“I’m reading…

“Says here it came from a plane.”

“Ooh?” Flying plane or esoteric plane? she was pondering. Because the latter would make more sense, given what just happened here. *Exchange*. It worked.

The Boos were back.

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September 6, 2021 · 9:11 am

stars (Pepper revealed, etc.)

“You’re Harrison Ford Jett aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Harrison didn’t want to commit to this stranger on the hill. He’d seen this trick before.

“I think you are, sir. And I also believe this is yours.” He holds out the guitar. “I’m an artist, see? This isn’t mine.”

And indeed Harrison could play the guitar just beautifully.

—–

In a parallel world, Harrison watches Greg Ogden’s masterful strokes from afar and wishes he could paint.

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September 6, 2021 · 7:53 am

9 symphonies — should have been 19 (busted)

At 10 they were back inside. “You don’t know a lot about Bach, do you?”

“No,” admitted Harrison Ford Jett, getting weary of the magic now. About time for bed, he thought. But with her? It both excited and chilled him. What would she attempt *this* time? It was always a roulette wheel of love. “My knowledge of classical music basically starts with Beethoven, beyond Mozart, beyond Hayden. And, in fact, the same with rock music. Starts with Beatles, skipping over Elvis and Buddy Holly and the like.”

“John Lennon insisted that Beetles was spelled with an ‘a’. He was trying to forget the past. He was trying to forget the *parallel*.”

“Suppose so.” It was an interesting conversation for Harrison. Bluebird, his little chickadee, had “turned” smart again after the coffee incident. Maybe it was all the caffeine, he speculated. For *both* of us. Relax and float downstream, I guess. “John is Mahler, though. It’s obvious — the glasses.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Bluebird decided she better start acting dumber again. She slows down the thoughts. 1 1/2 times now, 1, then 1/2. 1/2 usually does the trick. Not *too* slow.

—–

They were in bed now. Harrison was relieved to find the antics tonight were quite vanilla. Afterwards his neck hurt, though, giving indication that something was askew once more.

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September 6, 2021 · 6:56 am

no Boos (yet)

“Whatcha writing?”

Like you’d like to know, witch, he was thinking. “Journal,” he said out loud.

“Oooh. I *love* journals. Can I read?”

His neck suddenly hurt, as if the mere mention of sharing something so personal with her caused him physical pain.

“Uhh. I don’t know. Maybe. Let me work on it some more.”

“Am *I* in it?”

Of course you’re in it, witch. I’m trying to figure out what you are (!). “Kind of,” he said to her. “It’s kind of fiction.”

“Role play, eh?”

“Er, not really.”

“Fiction, though.”

“Yeah.” He let her mull that over. Not role play but still fiction. What does that mean… witch?

—–

He paused to make some coffee. Then they sat outside and stared at the sea.

“I think this is the most romantic place we’ve ever been, Harrison. Can I call you… Harry yet?”

“No.” He was firm about no nicknames. Not until they were married, whenever that would be.

She cuddled against him. “But at least I don’t have to call you Harrison *Ford Jett* any more. Remember that (period)? First the Ford was dropped, then the Jett…”

“I recall.” Of course he remembered. He set the rules. Again he thought that maybe he wasn’t dated the brightest bulb in the drawer. But on that he was dead wrong. *This* was role play. She was doing it very well.

—–

By 8 they were down at the beach lounging about. “Funny, Harrison (she feigned a laugh here), how we (tee hee) can still see our coffees smoking on that patio up there. Strange, eh?”

Harrison didn’t say anything. Witchcraft plain and simple, he knew. This was a *warning.* Don’t talk about role play with me. He’d underestimated her. Why does he keep forgetting how powerful she really was? Must be another spell.

(to be continued?)

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