Tag Archives: Baker Blinker^^@

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watch out! (he or she’s okay)

23 22 (male; 2009)

22 23 (female; 2012)

Maybe this blog will turn into Google Earth oddities and veer away from Second Life© stuff. Finding *so much* in Picturetown (alone!). If only Hucka D. could weigh in.


102 utility box, 2009 (absent)


102 utility box, 2012 (present)

EXACTLY 200 meters between the two, which JUST became a blog tag last night. And in the center? YORK, which eventually turns into MARY. Mary York = Charlene the Punk (= Wheeler = Her Majesty the Bigfoot/Yeti), who just talked to Giant Tiger in Rubi.

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00240111

“First she met with Blue Thorn, who explained why he dropped the Rose along with the Thorn.”

“But he’s still ‘Thorn’,” replied [name removed to simplify].

“Right. I meant throne there.”

“Throne. Okay. That makes more sense.”

“And then the wars were brought up. The wars that are still going on now. The past is the present. At least in the Thorn Room.”

“And then Casey One Hole?”

“Yes, he showed up next. They’d moved to the bar by then. Or Tessa had. He has links all around.”

“He’s certainly ever-present,” responded [delete name].

“And then Stumpy, moved over here from Moe’s bar seemingly.”

“Who’s in charge of Moe’s now? [delete name] logically asked, being a [delete job title]. “Is it Moe again? I thought he was dead. Or maybe I’m just thinking he retired. Oh… Karl showed up… I remember now. Another 1/2 and 1/2 situation.”

“That are coming up more frequently.”

“1/2 and 1/2,” joked [delete name], to no laughter. Okay: 1/2 and 1/2 again. Baker chuckled a little bit.

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wedding 03

Weddings at St. Mary’s traditionally took place after the Munday sermon so Preacher Stephan had to sacrifice a Renaldo O’Donnell clown first to appease the Gods. Tradition as well.

“Oops, that was a real squirter Pitch, ha.” The Darklys excused themselves to go home and wash clothes.

Afterwards church officials found the sacrificial altar was too heavy to move, so they made do with a cheap wedding booth found buried in a pile of junk at the back of the annex. Toothpick and Elberta then said their “I do’s” to Preacher Ziegler, since Preacher Stephan, a Northerner, refused to acknowledge the Deep South tradition of marrying siblings as kosher.

At the reception, Marty sang one of his beautiful love ditties to Saffie sitting with Toothpick, Elberta and best man Zapppa, hoping to get a better rental unit out of it.

Time to cut the cake. Big Wanda becomes annoyed about the orange butterflies that keep flying off her head in the excitement and leaves the task solely to Toothpick.

As feared, Her Majesty the local bigfoot/yeti came up from the new hole behind St. Mary’s to pay her respects to the newlyweds but was surprisingly controlled by the Corona-V pirates and ended up not eating anyone.

Lastly: group picture. Everyone had a laugh about all the innuendos.

And that’s it! Log another Collagesity or Sunklands photo-novel in the books.

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Home

Blogging at Sunklands Institute while the Moon comes up.

Perch: the restaurant is still intact.

Angus Nuffin still cooks there; burns perch occasionally.

Magika Bean waits for her date.

“Hi baby doll.”

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loss 01

Rocking Roger Pine Ridge was blunt. “Why would I want to leave, Baker Bloch? I have everything here. And now there’s (an Iris) mystery hole, as you guys put it. ”

“*You’re* one of us guys, too,” non-rocking Baker emphasized from the couch more away from the view.

“Maybe.”

“And, besides, I didn’t think you liked it here in this swamp village I think you termed it at one time.”

“Circumstances change. Look… you can see the Moth Temple just beyond that palm tree with a long draw. Can you see it?” He points forward.

Baker Bloch didn’t want distractions tonight. “Yeah, I see it,” he replies without attempting to see, trusting Roger Pine Ridge’s claim. It was a looonnng draw at almost 2 sims, he estimates, but probably reachable. He took RPR’s word for it.

“Oh,” began Roger Pine Ridge after a lingering gander at the beloved temple which he thought of as the center of His Second Lyfe as a whole, if it wasn’t now the *hole*. “The girls make a ruckus downstairs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes Sundays. Alternate Sundays I believe. But it’s only for a couple of hours in the afternoon and they clean up nicely.”

“You’re talking about Flip and Magika Bean,” Baker Bloch attempted to clarify. “The wrestling duo.”

“Yeah, who are actually Wheeler Wilson and Baker Blinker, I know. But they like their new names. And, like I said, they clean up…”

“Well,” Baker finished this time. “Better go. You think about what I said. Cassandra City might offer more possibilities than here. But then he dared to look out and extend his draw distance and suddenly doubted it. Yeah, the hole sealed the deal. Roger Pine Ridge, along with neighbor Grassy and Wheeler up more toward the temple itself might be here for good. He’d have to face that fact. Face the music of that fact. “Time,” or “Beach”. Depending on the way you flip it.

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the blue and the pink and the ??

“It really is a nice location, Baker Blinker. Sorry about the (missing) Mission.”

“‘Tis okay. Perhaps there’s another portal on this Isle of Heartsdale. Maybe Zero somehow? Connected to all the figures (numbers)?”

“Possibly. I plan to ride Teddy down to the bay soon. Maybe we’ll find more there. Remember, *laugh*, remember how you ran into Buurb down there with Precious Snowflake? Boy you had to amscray quick! Don’t want to confuse the young boy-girl any more than he/she already is/was/will be.”

“Yes, I am both Baker Blinker and Precious Snowflake at once,” speaks Baker Blinker, staring over at herself as the crows gather in the church spires once more. “But I’d like to add to my repertoire.”

“You had Tillie,” replied the male Baker quickly.

“Yeah, but a gaseous, dumpy clown doesn’t really count in the long run.”

“Karoz,” guessed Baker Bloch about the dismissal.

“I want to be — attractive.” No one brought up Wheeler but it was on their mind.

After a pause, Baker Bloch asked: “Will you be coming back to the *new* Collagesity over in Urqhart or thereabouts?” Baker didn’t ask if Karoz would be joining her; it was implied.

“I suppose the Temple of TILE remains an attractor (for Karoz primarily).”

“And the Julia House — still at the top of the waterfall. Might be a Julia*n* House now.” He smiles. He imagines Karoz smiling with him across the sea.


Julia(n) House

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ramblings

“Is this Egg Hill Sink, my Lord?”

“Think about what you just said,” I spoke in Ben Wolf’s head (disguised as his “Lord”). “Egg – Hill – Sink,” I said plainly and calmly.

“Oh.” He turned and looked toward The Yuiselles. “I think I see.”

I explained more clearly. “This is a hill shaped like an egg, true. Kind of,” I added.

“Then it is a pointer.”

I realized he was right. I decided not to talk in his head any more today. He must head back home and discuss his “revelations” with his wife the Irish Lass. Forgot her name right off. Even though I gave it to her.

—–

“I had a vision today Phyllis (*Phyllis*: that was it).”

“Oh yes, dear? Another one? Did this involve The Lord?”

“Well… yes. He said that I was standing on the summit but it wasn’t *the* summit.”

“Moork Summit? Is that what you’re talking about still?” Phyllis was distracted by thoughts of the Small Kowloon House formerly situated on the small island in the middle of Danshire, even though she didn’t know it by that name. Everyone called it [Capitol Hill]. The shack had disappeared overnight, with Red Pepper from the local neighborhood watch sending out an instagram message apologizing for the eyesore and saying the situation had been dealt with. But back to *trying* to listen to her husband’s religious ramblings — more of ’em.”

“The summit was instead a chasm. I don’t know what that means.”

Phyllis realized she missed an important part of his revelation while spacing out about the island and the shack, but didn’t want to backtrack. That bridge is best left to be built by one coming after her. She’s already on the other side of the chasm — what does *she* care?

“Um hum,” she instead answers without full understanding. The husband finally fell silent. Back to thoughts of the shack…

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to remember it by (Treasure Hill continuation)

“I keep looking out that window and thinking there’s someone sitting up on that giant live oak limb, staring at us. But it’s just that dark angel in the middle of the pond over there.”

“One hour ’til sunrise,” urges Eight-seven beside her, formerly Eighty-eight.

“Match tonight — better try to get some sleep.” Eighty-six now.

—–

Surely Wheeler will be alright on her own this *one* time, thinks rocking Baker Blinker back in Collagesity at her Gloomy Gus house. The 88’s will be with her.

But someone indeed has followed Wheeler to the wrestling arena in what use to be Morgan-Julia. And is manipulating time and space around her.

“One more piece then I’m done,” mutters Cpt. Americus, trying to polish off his bucket of chicken so he can think properly about another evil plot to hatch.

The stream rages on…

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Areogeleye

“There,” Wheeler declared. “Down at the bottom.” She bends down. “A blue eye!”

“Your… *missing* eye?” Baker Blinker asks, staring down as well at the grassy being with one blue eye, the left one (to it).

“Yes. We must observe this closely.” She stands back, taking in the whole work.

Newton Collage 09, (in)formally “TILE Waterfall”. She sees this through the checked description. “TILE,” she then utters. “Does *Karoz* know about this one?”

“I– I’m…”

“We better ask,” Wheeler stated, not letting Baker Blinker finish. She could tell her new partner didn’t know. But Karoz was the last person Baker Blinker wanted to talk to right now. Not after what she had just done.

We may also note that this is the 49th collage of the 100 piece “Art 10 x 10” housed in the Collagesity cubic skybox called the Edwardston Station Gallery that Wheeler Wilson and Baker Blinker are presently combing through for clues. The 49th room of Kowloon’s 100 Story Building similarly contains a “spilled” black liquid combined with bright white. We’ve already seen it here: the dream cat called Space spills black ink while diminutive feline companion Star seems to spill a contrasting white milk and then revel in the mixture. We don’t have a white *spill* here, yet white *absorption* through a synthetic, ultralight porous material called areogel. The blue eye *eyes* the areogel, knowing what it actually stands for.

This is black and white combined again.

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87 02

“I’m going to make you partially transparent so don’t panic.”

“Okay, here’s the problem. Or deal. *I* sit on the black stool that represents the 8 ball. 88 01 (let’s say), you are on the orange “2” stool and 88 02 (we’ll say), you’re perched on the yellow “3”. Wheeler then considered something else. “Stool, huh.” She then took a remote picture before returning to the 87 Room.


Room 61

“Alright, so between you is an XVideos labelled laptop that, to me, obviously is suppose to represent “x” as in *times* something. But 3 *times* 2 (she points to the 3 associated objects in turn) equals 6. Added to my 8 (stool) you get 86. But this is (Room) 87.

If you consider the X might be a cross (+) it goes even one further from the truth, since 80 (points to herself) plus 3 (points to 88 01) plus 2 (points to 88 02) equals 85. Now the XVideos laptop sits on a stool representing the 1 ball in pool, the blue one. To me, this *must* represent Blue Eye, the missing one in either Arkansas or Missouri. So here’s the solution, people. I’m 80, you guys are 3 *times* 2 or 6, and then the stool, the one, when added in at last — *not* multiplied — brings us to the needed 87. You have to count the missing one hidden by the X to make sense of it all.

“So what’s the problem?” I asked just beyond the wall.

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