Tag Archives: Bushes^*+

July 11, 2026 · 7:27 am

00500604

He’d shot all over the world, flying hither and thither. He’d seen it all, final resting place acquired. Including the ultra-illusive Bigfoot, the Holy Grail of bagging and tagging. Why go on? he said to himself. And so he didn’t. The concrete (marker) indicated death, the *other* great adventure, the 2nd 1/2 truth to go along with a first. Pisces not Virgo. Prices not Vigo (Alabama).

But then LL announced the filling in of the se corner of Omega and the game was suddenly on again after all these years of rest and hibernation. The TAR (car) was rebuilt, adding the prefix RE to an original name. In the Tar Swamp where it came from; that’s why we’re here. On Lake Nip. In Massachusetts. I’ll let you research the rest.

Local rumors of a UFO landing in the swamp, such as reported by fishermen like Horace here, were just that. Snakeworthy Price had paid the Price and acquired a (new?) last name in the process. There was more than one. Stamp him SOLD as in OUT.

Peering through the bushes or tall grass where it landed, Horace finds the whole truth and nothing but the truth. REbirth. And with a fresh paint of green.

“I *hate* Snakeworthy Price,” says onlooking Rudy from beyond the wall. TBC?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0604, Alabama, Critterville, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Massachusetts, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS, Omega, Virginia

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August 27, 2024 · 8:42 pm

00440108 (slab)

Now we just have to return the shovel to where we found it so as not to piss off the local aliens. In the second bush located in a nearby old tool shed. Flaming.

Still in the dead of night, we deliver the slab to said aliens to complete their glyph puzzle so that they can see how to leave this place, this planet. Fire, wind, water they had. But we had to provide them with the final piece representing Earth.

“This planet is a cube!” they all uttered in surprised unison just later while looking down on it, then got to work on recalibrating their navigational charts accordingly, soon to be gone from here.

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August 27, 2024 · 5:30 am

00440107 (Plutonians)

“I have seen many things in the forest,” she explained to me. “I have seen a giant stone hand with an eye representing the place where I came. But not where I’m going.”

“Our Second Lyfe,” I pinpointed. “Or better, *Their* Second Lyfe.”

“Forest of Kahruval at least,” she said to my observation. “This was different. This was Kerchal. A full sim chocked to the brim with pines of several different varieties. No grass, unlike the Rubi Woods found later. But not devoid of other vegetation, which is my next item on my list.”

“Go ahead, then,” I encouraged.

“So one day, after being involved in the forest for a while, I chanced upon two bushes and wondered about the old expression of not seeing them because the trees of the forest took the focus. *This* is where I’m going, I realized. Toward the bushes.”

“Um hmm,” I said, trying to adjust to this new focus as well. I saw — the overlap. Bakers’ Island. This is Baker Blinker, with Baker Bloch soon to come along as well. Bakers in the plural, then. Salvation.

“And then we have the treehouse. Where I opened the eye with the (alphabet) map. But that was within another forest. Or so I thought.

“Everything became white.”

“But this was actually after the arrival of the aliens,” I said. “They build the treehouse. In *those* woods.”

“That’s what changed after the whiteness,” admitted Wendy who was playing the role of Baker Blinker currently. Or maybe it was visa versa — another reversal. “The aliens came first. Two bushes; two ships. Not one.

“The other (find) was a made up reality. *I’m* made up.”

“Because you’re actually Wendy. Not Baker Blinker,” I said. The alien she described before, a big white cup with a pink straw that took control, was obviously her, probably arrived from the future — say, 8 1/2 years later. Not a true alien, at least in her mind. But I knew better. Because of the pink.

“Like I said, there were two of them. Not one. They *built* the treehouse. Everything was backwards from what I remembered. The treehouse came last not first,” she reinforced. “They *built* it,” she couldn’t help but say again.

So should I tell her that both realities are true? Too soon?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0107, Kerchal, Sansara, VOTV

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August 18, 2024 · 7:30 am

00440103

Gerald woke up in some flaming bushes of the royal greenhouse and tried to remember what happened to him during his latest (and greatest?) graytop trip. What’s this bloody mask? he thought to begin, flinging aside the feathery, white thing. Ahh yes, Princess Annabel’s masquerade ball down at the palace, pheh. And he’d flirted with… how many women? But why didn’t he sleep with any of ’em? Ahh, said he had a date with the *bushes*, he recalls. Thus: here. Hmm, *why* did I have to go to the bushes? The flaming ones? Think Gerald. Think! Something about… cubes.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0103, Heterocera, Iris, Witcher

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May 31, 2024 · 10:38 pm

00430115

Clarence spied something that really got him excited. Bootleg VHS Tapes, he pondered, looking more in the distance than what one might expect, someone like De Boy for instance. That must mean there’s old time users around. He’d ask the girl. But first, down to the business that brought him here.

“Would you like to be a model, dearest? Aisle of Palms has an opening.”

—–

“Found him,” she said to Clara Bellissaria, a name mispelled on purpose. Because she was a spy too, the first found.

Clarence and Clara, yes. Makes sense now, Fern thought. Father and child. Fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, and so on.

“Come on, Lichen, let’s go,” Fern said, seeing Clarence move with Redd toward the tapes in the game within a game. “We need to have a word with this *model*.”

—–

From the northeast and one floor up, old time user Martha spies Clarence + Redd + Tape Girl from between 2 bushes to angle a whole ‘nother level into our story.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0115, Big Woods, C2077, HANA LEI, Jeogeot, NIGHTSITY

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March 28, 2022 · 8:33 am

Wendy

“Tell me about Dub?”

It was an odd question from the former Bottle Cruncher star. 5’5″ Jer Ronamy, who also went by the name of Chuck Laser back in the days, an athletic moniker. Laser sharp were his passes and few lost their arms as a result, even though they played at the bottom of one (Starfish Lake arm). Plus they would just grow back; many smaller guards of his kind used this regeneration process to their advantage; fitted it into their overall game plan and strategy. Not brown clad Chuck, except when he masqueraded as purple garbed Joel Maser that one year he went undercover to play for a rival team so that they could face each other in the championship. Zircon vs. Amethyst, just like it was suppose to be; battle of the Titans. Never spotted, although the name should have been a giveaway. Just short enough to fly below the radar. It was tricky playing both sides in the finals but he explains it all in his book, “Going Both Ways,” disguised as outlining his prowess on both the offensive and defensive ends. Read between the lines and it’s all there: never was any defense when he was on offense and visa versa. I mean, you can read about it in this way but it’s still hard to believe. He planted a double, a lookalike. Similar name, yeah. A bit taller so as not to be *too* suspicious. And, oh yeah, that magical charm around the whole thing enacted by Morgan the Hagg. People hated him when they eventually found out. A lot of money was lost the day he hoisted the trophy as high as possible over his 5’5″ frame on a pedestal built by those that worshiped him.

“Dub?” responded Devil Dave back in the present, thinking back to receiving the ill wind from that Maebaleia cave in the sky. Does he also know about the jungle and all that goes on there, the wildness (in the wilderness)?

We need to bring in a female to balance out the whole and make a 4orrin1. Jem should do the trick, a simulacrum who thinks she is real and the only type who would stand Jer for any length of time, like seconds. Here she is with the rest.

So pretty.

(to be continued)

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January 29, 2022 · 4:28 pm

Monroe alone and heavy on Twin Peaks

Black children, a brother and sister perhaps, emerge from a Halloween Tree beside 4th of Juli flags to play in the sun alongside a backyard fence…

… while Robert’s son, a white kid with slack-jawed mouth, sits on the front porch alone, bemoaning a lack of friends.

Past the Princess, Ray takes over Monroe as far as the eye can see, whitewashing a red car past.

A hidden letter in a kind of burning bush reveals another clue. A white S. The Son? The *Sun*?

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July 22, 2021 · 6:05 am

00270413

“So as you can see, Billie, we’ve had a bit of excitement in town since you’ve been gone. But it’s all cleaned up now. Your tower scrubbed up nicely. The only thing damaged was a couple of house plants which were dying or dead anyway. And, oh yeah, this is where Kolya had his head damaged.”

“I was wondering where that happened,” she replied in her child’s voice from the chair, this youth that was not young atall. “The encounter with God.”

“We should have never erected that giant golden *cow* in the middle of town, Billie, and you know it. We have been frowned upon.”

“Claudette is there for a reason.”

“*This* reason?” Mr. Babyface questioned, wondering if the idolatry had come to this. Fire.

“God must show himself,” she reckoned. “Or else…”

“… all be damned, yeah I get it.” Mr. Babyface didn’t get it but he didn’t want to seem stupid (again!) in front of the precocious child. So prescient. I’m sure she saw all this coming and that’s why she was away at the time. And she probably also spared me, he rationalized, by organizing that rant rave by my nephew that afternoon. It was all in the book, all in the pattern. The Oracle book and/or pattern.

“How was your comedy show, by the by?” he decided to deviate.

“How was yours?” She knew it wouldn’t be as good. She had chosen the freshest act and left him with the leftovers.

“You know,” he said. “A nephew is a nephew and needs support.”

“Nepotism, yes. I enjoy a Skippy Bittman too but only as an act of an act, a step beyond; meta–.”

Skippy Bittman? “*Anyway*, I suppose you know Marion Star Harding was here as well.”

“I had a feeling.” She didn’t see this! Time was changing again, infinite becoming finite as inflammable separated from flammable. She could see the edge of the plane but not beyond. And the beyond was becoming here, plain and simple. Marion Star Harding. Not since Rose Heaven, for him and Phillip Strevor both. Maybe Phillip is around as well, she rationalized, perhaps down at the church cemetery trying to cover himself up with dirt. It would fit.

(to be continued?)

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April 27, 2021 · 9:13 am

Bushhhhh

I was told to meet him at the end of a long and dusty road. I said the name of the plant that appeared to be burning in front of me instead of the man.

“Nooooo,” he rasped. “I’mmm just *talllking* through thisss. Loookkk cloooosssser. Commme herrree.”

It was the voice of the father this time. I knew I was in deep doo doo trouble.

—–

“I remember how I got brain damage,” he said to her afterwards. “It was a fire; I got too close.”

“Good good,” she replied. “Now maybe those old wounds will heal — Can.” Only those quite close to him called him by that name, he remembered. She edged closer and gently touched the holey hair. Soon maybe no one else can get inside.

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December 26, 2019 · 9:20 am

further 02

Rebl listened intently for news about the bombing. She kept the antique radio low. Just in case.

“Been 2 hours,” Guyd put forth in a purr. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen.”

“Just wait my friend. Be patient.” Guyd knew the bush was rarely wrong, but also Rebl stated that the bush was growing older. One day it will not be with us as ultimate guide. That day may be sooner than expected, she said.

“New York–” the radio sputtered. “New — ork has been…” The radio went dead.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0310, End of Time+, New York

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