Tag Archives: Anorexia/Annie^^

hooked and hookless

“An artist, huh?” Karl says in his gruff voice. “Not a prostitute.”

“That’s my life goal,” affirms Annie, who will pick up about any man available in the stripper club. Actor/writer/inventor Tom Casey was just one in a long line of suitors. Norris JERRY Harry too.  To be fair to Karl, she has a particular thing for thick, strong arms that will completely envelop her during an embrace. She turns to face her present lover’s large, bald head.

“Because my guess is that you’d make one hell of a whore.”

She smacks his cheek, but not hard. Because Annie agrees with Karl about that. She *is* a slut, and good at it. If it wasn’t for that New Island book by that Moth fellow, it still could represent a natural endpoint. But she saw the drawings, read the detailed text. Artist Point, a colony of realistic and abstract creators alike.  She wanted to venture into the latter but so far had stuck to the former. And now she had a strong desire to paint *Karl*. In the nude, of course. That’s another add-it-to-the-list one, because she’d already done Casey, done Harry. 15 paintings accomplished just this past year (!). The ability was growing. And she read about a nudist beach at something called The Hook where she could hang out and pick up men. Check out the goods beforehand. Not in a pervy way, but in an *artistic* way. Okay, 1/2 and 1/2, she admits to herself while thinking about their large, thick arms, etc.

“Sisters just up and left you, huh?” stated Karl, getting serious for a change. He’d never had a family of his own. Just those crazy, fast food neighbors of his who were the focus of the… his reality. But since he was 3d again, perhaps he’d eventually have to go back to the old house, the old life. His thick coat of fur had disappeared upon, er, awakening outside in the Bluebird Cuddle Van. And how did he get here in the first place? That remains a mystery to him. Must have been some hell of a party.

“Yup,” answers Annie. “But I have only one *real* sister,” she clarified. “Tonya Two Egg; went with Harry to wherever this Mimosa is. She’s hell bent on finding JERRY, you know.”

“JERRY?”

“*Yes* Karl. I brought up JERRY two times before. You must have been staring at my legs.” She skillfully raises her skirt an inch or two while shifting her position in his arms. She’d learned that trick a long time ago.

“Oh,” utters Karl. He vaguely recalled something about that now. And, yeah, he’d been staring at her legs a lot. Here’s another one with a thing for thin, like Tom Casey. Speaking of which, they’d better get down to what he was here for. “Okay, babydoll. The night is growing, um, later. There won’t be any more stars in the sky than are in your eyes right now.” He’d learned that line a long time ago.

—–

First thing in the morning, they rezzed Annie’s small fishing boat at the nearby community center and headed south, intending to go through Horizons’ 4th and only hookless region (ironically enough) to reach the continent of Zindra. Karl had nothing to leave behind; he’d only been in Horizons-Pluto for a week. And Annie had already sold her land next to Mt. Tom, so hell bent was she upon this New Island.

Both sisters fixated on the same type of place. And there were more connections.


New Island by boat, huh? We’ll see about that.”

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gift

“They just sat there. In that shack. Daring me to approach with that blasted *poodle* in plain view. You know how I hate poodles. Such an ugly dog now with its hair all trimmed in the wrong places to make it… make it look like a demented toy.” On the stool, she crossed her legs and folded her arms while uttering a grunt of disgust, foot vibrating rapidly.

“Now, now Annie,” actor Tom Casey soothed from the couch. “I have something that I’m sure will cheer you right up. You’re always complaining about how I never gave you anything.”

“All I asked for is a ring. *The* ring.”

“Well, you know I can’t do that right now love. But I got the next best thing for you. A *bug*. Right outside the door. I’ve been keeping it over at the club to surprise you.” He waved his hand toward the front of the house. “Let’s go look.”

“It’s got spider webs all over it,” she continued complaining, unimpressed with the auto parked outside. “And it’s orange; you know I hate orange.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried washing the webs off to no avail; they just keep coming back. I would assume the same with the paint. But you know what this means?” he asks, still unconcerned about her indifference. He knew it would spin around.

“Halloween came early this year?” she replied sarcastically.

“No. It means you don’t have to sit at The Table and talk ‘Pumpkintwisters.’ There’s no way The Eye and The Cat can properly reach it now.

“Oh,” she reconsidered.

“I stole it right from under their nose. In the center of Collagesity.” His smiling white teeth contrasted sharply with his tan face now.

“Yes,” she said, face also beginning to beam. “Yes that *is* good news.” She threw her thin arms around the muscular Casey and planted a big, wet one on his cheek. She’d lost her ruby slippers and rainbow halo but at least she wouldn’t have to revert to being a Zappa groupie again, with all that old baggage resurfacing. Relief!

“Thank you,” she said, tears now running down her face and ruining her mascara. Still smiling too brightly, Tom Casey dramatically handed her his freshly laundered handkerchief with the 24 karat gold “TC” monogram.

Always aware of the camera, this one is.

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NEVER CONFUSE…

… someone who has a golden glove…

… with someone who merely has butterfingers.

Marion Harding woke up in the translucent green crystal tree lounge where he’d met Golden Josephine three nights before; promptly walked off the open eastern side and dropped down to the landscape far below; stared up at the tree and saw the two lights on its huge trunk next to the lounge, pinkish red and bluish green, which then faded; turned around to look at some colorful plants; then turned back around only to see the two lights reignite on the tree at the same position. He repeated this pattern several times. Yup, every time he returned his gaze to the tree, the lights were there, then diminished to nothing. *Must* mean something.

“Wake up Mr. Hardman,” urged Tonya Two Egg from the shack’s lone table where she was sitting with Arale. “Our sister Annie heard something over the ridge and has temporarily left her watch station. The time to move is now!”

“Oh,” she then said, taking another look through the ice tinged window. “Never mind. She’s already returned. You can go back to sleep, sir.”

So Marion rolled over and dreamed about the tree again. “Those lights up there,” he said to himself. “Where have I seen them before?”

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three pairs

“Wake up, Tonya Two Egg,” whispered Arale after hopping down from the top bunk. Her internal alarm had just gone off. “It’s 2:01 in the morning, sister. Time to head over to the ice fishing shack. Marion Harding will be waiting.”

Across the house…

“Your *sisters* don’t think I know all about that 2:01 in the morning trick, Annie,” murmurs actor Tom Casey, who has also just awoken and then roused his sleeping partner. “You better go follow them. Let me know what you find out.”

Annie emits a small, retaliatory grunt. But he knows she’ll follow orders.

“They’re coming out of the house now, kid. You better get ready.”

“Already on it.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0513, Horizons

Zappa groupie?

“I *know* this person, Biker Mann,” Cyberpaperdoll stated while zooming into a snapshot from the last Sunklands post. “This Anorexia or Annie. It’s Baker’s friend! From the old synching board. Raynbowladirubislyppers.”

“Interesting,” he replied nonchalantly while continuing to stare out the window toward Home Orange and the comings and goings of Jacob I. and Broken Heart. But Biker isn’t my name any longer, Roger Pine Ridge thought to himself. You don’t know who *I* am.

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private

“Are you coming to bed, baby?” actor/writer/inventor Tom Casey called from across the room.”

“I’m *thinking* about it.”

“Why don’t you think some more about it cuddled up in my big, muscular arms.”

Anorexia huffs and recrosses her arms and legs. “Are those your trophy girls?”

“What?”

“The women beside you on the bed. Your harem or whatever. Is that what I’m to be added to?”

“Oh. *Those* girls. They mean nothing to me, sweets.”

“Why don’t you, I don’t know, put them *face down* on the nightstand, then? If we’re going to go through with this.”

“Listen, Annie, I paid top dollar for this rendezvous. I had to come all the way out to this adult sub-continent to get away from prying eyes. You don’t know the psychotic depths of my ex.”

“I think you are motivated by one thing and one thing only.

Have you ever heard the Poodle Lecture?”

“What?” Tom Casey repeated.

“It’s how Zappa explained WO-MAN controlled MAN. It’s why I left the fold. But now I’m summoned back.” She thought back to removing her ruby slippers and rainbow halo at last.

“*I* asked for you.”

“No you didn’t. The Kidd asked for me. She said her daddy was in a heap of trouble and I had to do this to make things right. Had a thing for thin, she said. Something about supermodels.”

“Philip,” Tom Casey explained again to her, “is a simple accountant. Working in a simple stripper club. Nothing more.”

“You’re dreaming if you say that.”

The actor/writer/inventor sat up in the bed and looked her over from the span separating them. “18, you say?”

“Right.” She was wiggling her foot rapidly.

“Cause there’ve been rumors.”

“Rumors started by The Kidd. It makes me look innocent. I’m not, of course.”

“Then come over here. Let’s get started.”

The flames rose rapidly.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0404, Horizons

Anorexia

“You’re sitting in my seat, bud. My mountain, my seat.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0316, Horizons