Tag Archives: Biff Carter^*++++&

July 30, 2026 · 6:54 am

00510113 (reach)

“I’m scrapping the whole idea!” raged Biff Carter one night after a particularly bad rehearsal for the band. “I’m going to call us — heck — *Runnynose*. Because that’s what we are. A constant drip drip drip of annoyance threatening to dribble down my cheeks if I don’t stop it, PHEH. Where’s my hanky? I want to blow it all away!” He rubs his hand across his face and then picks up the loaded gun on the table beside him but then puts it back. No need to go down that road, he, thankfully, quickly realized. No more mowing down needed. Let tall grass stand. Weedy. Jennifer not Jenny. She lives! At least in his mind, in his dreams. He can also live with that for a while.

“Here,” consoling Shelley said from the side, replacing him in that role. “Take a hit from my white ass stick instead to cool you down.” And she leans over and kisses his cheek while handing it to him, a promise of things to come. At least for Biff. TBC

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July 30, 2026 · 5:49 am

00510112 (news)

Jennifer Lane had tragically been mowed down by a bulldozer, perhaps several of ’em. This is an archived photo.

“What are we going to do *now*?” I can hear ear of corn clad Karl bemoan from behind his drum kit in the back. “Everything *hinged* on her growing up and appearing before me and beside Chet over there, replacing his screeching, crow-like vocals with her now mature golden warblings, PHEH. Damn you Charles Anson!” Karl assumed it was long time nemesis and former band videographer Anson who was responsible for the mowing down but longer time band manager Biff Carter corrected him from the side.

“Wasn’t him,” he said plainly.

And why won’t *Chet* weigh in on this tragedy? He just stands there in his new Robo Santa costume to pair with Karl’s own corn related one, lead guitar hanging low off his neck.

—–

“Biff,” Shelley says from above, jiggling his shoulder. “Biff Wendell Carter,” she speaks his full name to fully bring him back to reality on the other side. “Band rehearsal in 5.” TBC

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July 19, 2026 · 8:27 pm

00510101 (center (old is better))

Sherwood needs to grow the f- up so I can get out from behind this drum kit! thinks Karl during another so-so rehearsal, fellow bandmember — *only* fellow bandmember (so far) — Chet in front and to his right per usual, with a new costume of his own. Welcome Robo Santa! Welcome to Scissorhands©. Karl’s? An ear of corn obviously in honor of his new hero Leptune from that kooky animation movie he’s been watching a lot of lately, also colored as such. The whole effect gives off a strong sci fi vibe, with both costumes appearing like space suits. Are they actually alien musicians beamed down from another planet to teach us all the power of universal groove? If only the music was as strong as the costumes and the idea, band manager Biff Carter worries from the side. Karl is adequate not great on drums. Chet is okay/passable as lead guitarist but the singing — the *singing*. Which of course makes him think of Shelley Jenny. Just like Sherwood, also too small, still crooning in her too high but otherwise pitch-perfect voice down at the docks for an audience of one. How’s it going with the search for that time machine, observing Charles Anson?! We’ll see where this goes. TBC

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May 25, 2026 · 7:54 am

00500312

https://gilligan.fandom.com/wiki/The_Honeybees

“Don’t worry, this particular 3 piece girl band will never make it out of Oceania to acquire mainland fame and fortune, despite their obvious talent. The *Mosquitoes* will make sure of that. Stamp them NONEXISTANT. *Not* a rival.”

“Thanks Biff!!” he can hear them collectively exclaim in his head, Shelley even giving him an appreciative kiss on his cheek. No, make that *lips*. Now to test it out in reality.

—–

Groovy tune this “You Need Us” is, thinks smoking and radio listening Wanda from her mainland bed in a different TV series altogether. But I wonder why The Mosquitoes went with an instrumental? I can imagine the 3 part singing now… TBC?

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May 25, 2026 · 7:54 am

00500311 (Shakespeare never sleeps)

“(The ASUMH library entrance is) 7.00 miles from Arkana, 7.00 miles from Arkawana with the WA left behind in the attached, sad sad Robina crime spree story. Concrete (WA) again? Might be pressing it there.”

“Silver,” listening Wendell Biff Carter attempts an explanation of his own. “Silver = seven; you pointed that out before.”

“Could be,” admits Shelley, still on the bench, still beneath and hiding under and even within Noodle looming o’er her. Always.

“It’s good you didn’t come out from under the lamp,” Biff tries to summarize their talk so far.


photo-novel 32

“I was too little then. Wouldn’t have worked.”

“But later, I mean… when you were able to turn around and face the music. Miss Ouri had taken over *everything*.”


photo-novel 47

“Oh… right. But not quite everything,” she corrected for Biff, her manager, her… friend? Let’s go with manager for a while longer. “There was my saving grace,” she said. “I escaped through the island newly formed off the coast of mainland. (The) 4 (Apocalyptic) horses reduced to 2….”

—–

“What happened to your husband Arthur anyway?” Biff begins a related topic, bit of jealousy in his tone along with a bit of hope. Could it work between them? Nah — and he tried to shove that thought out of his head. “Last I heard: Oceania.”

“He’s still there. Playing the role of Godzilla or sumtin at Point Nemo which is the furthest location away from dry land in the whole wide world. He literally followed his lucrative paying roles to the end of the Earth, as far away from my loving arms as he could get, *sigh*. I guess all he has left now is either turn around and come home to me or go off to a different planet altogether. The louse.”

Ah HA, I think from beyond the wall. Explains a lot!

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May 12, 2026 · 9:23 pm

00500212

But we’ve kind of already been here before with Cyberpunk 2077’s US Cracks, similarly a 3 girl band with color emphasized in their names, Blue (Moon) Red (Menace) Purple (Force) to match Shelley’s Pink Pink Pink. And if you combine their blue and red and purple you get pretty close to pink through magenta, like in the light spectrum. Japanese girls too, remembering that XXX Dream is owned by a user who only speaks such. Let’s investigate this resonance further…

—-

“I couldn’t even take a *bath* without the paparazzi hounding me up there in that Japanese hell. I wanted out. And so I started slapping myself while still sleeping, over and over. Cheeks turning red… redder… reddest. It wakes me up but I realize the dream slapping doesn’t carry over into reality slapping, thankfully. No pain. No red. The three part dream where I’m Pink Pink and Pink is *done*, band manager Wendell Biff Carter. Capisce?”

All Biff could do was nod. They’d made triple the money they would have collected groundside. He knew to cut ties while the going was good. Back to Earth. TBC


“Get out, get… OUT!”

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May 10, 2026 · 5:53 am

00500211 (female, waiting (bunny 02?))

“XXX Dream; It’s real!” she said as he approached from the south, having checked out a bit of the new green grasslands before moving north into settled country. Right on the line he is up above. (Visiting in the) daytime of course. Biff Carter dare not come here during the night; had to remain a tether to reality for Shelley and the others under his new management. He’s *not* going back to that dirty, dingy, dinky claustrophobic restaurant on the edge of his village. Simply no to all that, he solidifies. “Just like in Concrete, Washington,” she continued, thinking of bigfoot there, the Man in Brown, so on. People didn’t want to see but still: there he is. The last thing shot before the quintessential Google Street View car found its final resting spot atop the Eiffel Tower, one of the most recognizable landmarks on Planet Earth. Until now. He was upon her, took in her Pink again. “Check out the parcel description if you don’t believe me.” She held out her white stick cigarette. “Hit?”

“No thanks I’m trying to cut back. And: I believe you about the parcel.” Yeah, he’d checked just in case while walking up. Like I said, he had everything to lose. Had to make sure *Shelley* wasn’t dreaming. XXX it was. But he didn’t tell her this, wanted to at least exude pretend confidence in her judgement, her grasp on truths.

“Soo… have you made a decision?”

“I have. Silver. No Mosquitoes.”

“Seven, then.”

“Yeaahh. Seven.” She reflexively looked down at the pinkness all about her body. Including the part alien skin, she knew. Thanks Baker Blinker!

Biff understood this was dangerous territory and that 7 could still overtake 9 since 9 could not probably move into 10 any more, safety zone on the other side of likewise static zero. But — the exuding.

“Ready for this, then?” X in triplicate form again. She hadn’t tried this out yet. Scared she was. And him through her. No restaurant no restaurant no restaurant. This experiment better *pan* out, else back to the pots and. He made sure they were on the same page of the script down here before heading upwards. Double check, *triple* check.

It worked! Biff remained manager of music not food. He knew this triplet form of Pink would *sell*. TBC

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May 1, 2026 · 1:04 pm

00500206 (STOP/GO)

—–

Only when planetary traveler Gemilly Niceniece looked at the video afterwards did she see the A on the rock directly below her right where she decided to stop and pan around…

… which seemingly turned into a P on the other side of it. “AP!” I called aloud when seeing the transformation from my own angle, remembering the joined letters from the day before. “What was it? The Annie Oakley case?”

“Orkley Andy,” spoke someone to the side listening in, probably W aka Wheeler, the female half of our duality with a better memory, we can imagine. “Biff Carter’s case,” she clarified more for the reader than the writer. “But connected to Oakley… Annie. Together, they make–”

“–a complete A-Z time loop,” I completed, so excited I was that I forgot who was speaking in the moment. Freed up, W/Wheeler started checking her phone. Then:

“38-AP to be precise it says here, with, hmm, 37-QZ being the Oakley Annie one… *before it*. Names reversed, letters reversed. Let’s see — caused Biff to become prematurely retired and then quickly retired again when he tried to make a comeback.”

“In-ter-est-ing.”

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/03/16/00320206/

And exactly between 00320206 and 00500206 here, we found out just later, is 00410206, where we find Biff yet again. Titled “(Biff)” even.

https://bakerbloch.com/2023/11/28/00410206/

Passengers finally unload at Bellisaria’s Shobu station at the end of the straight as an arrow tracks in the shadow of towering Mt. Sakuru, let’s keep calling it. Father Fecked’s cane appears first out of the train, calm now after all that shaking from the last 7-10 minutes was over. Should’ve pinpointed this all important location before, but better late than never I suppose. The SYSTEM speaks, I understand. Egging me forward. Just like before; just like always. TBC(!)

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April 27, 2026 · 5:44 am

00500203 (seven = silver)

“I think it’s painfully obvious that I’m Noodle in this scenario,” lead singer Shelley Johnston Struthers spoke over to band manager Wendell Biff Carter, out on a break from rehearsing, their third of the night. Lots of STOPS and GOS for this one, like in a heated game of Mille Bornes. Trouble. Friction. Inertia. No one could even decide which band members were present or not. Sometimes Sherwood was a kid and other times a fully functional adult, albeit a brilliant drummer at whatever age he appeared. Things were in FLUX.

“Okay, I agree,” said Biff, thinking of all the changes and shifts and sputterings too. “We’ll make that another concrete truth of the blog and attached photo-novel,” he said, but, again, that’s probably me talking through him. So let’s leave out that sentence and say Biff merely agrees with Shelley on her statement. She is Noodle. She’s also Pink tonight. He approves of both. Then he brings up a subject he knew he shouldn’t broach.

“Listen, Shelley. I’ve been doing some research. Staying a classical, so-called non-mesh avatar is fine. But it seems people who choose to follow that path with their outward appearance at least get new and improved mesh hands and feet. I wouldn’t touch the head, though.” He looks over at her head, thinks of the smile (not currently present upon it, though), that beautiful innocence. No, leave the head for sure.

Shelley looks down at her extremities. “I’m not changing *anything*.” She was stubborn about remaining classical. She also likes classical vegetation, builds. Helps reduce lag. What’s not to like? She’s been around long enough to remember the good old days and the excitement of Our Second Lyfe when it was relatively fresh and new… and *non-mesh*. That excitement is still there but in pockets instead of an overall vibe. You have to dig a bit more these days.

“I *do* like the pink,” says Biff, trying to smooth over his mistake. We can build up from that, he thinks. Whatever happens, I’m *not* going back to the restaurant business. TBC

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March 14, 2026 · 7:41 am

00490606

He broke away from her all knowing all seeing eyes, understanding more. Something was wrong, something was off. Sherwood *can’t* be first, since he is the youngest and hadn’t grown up enough yet to play the drums properly in the band. “Paper” *can’t* be second because Sherwood is too young to begin, and so on. Then it hit him. Things were playing out *backwards* from the red book he holds in his hands. Biff Carter — himself — came first. The manager to begin; he started everything. Then Scissorrun© — the band had several names before that, even. Yes, he’s remembering them now. And then “Paper,” their signature tune and their only “hit” to date, was 3rd. Then and only then came Sherwood, who had finally aged enough to join the group. 4-3-2-1 from the book instead of 1-2-3-4. Reading it that way everything fell into place. “Sherwood the rock solid drummer is last,” he began to reveal these thoughts back to Jennifer.

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