Tag Archives: Chuck^*

August 12, 2023 · 6:08 am

00390410

“Okay, I’m heading to the other side of the island now, Dancing Chuck, love of my eye, apple of my life.” No answer per usual. Chuck didn’t have a speaking part in this here photo-novel, 39 in a series. Philip didn’t expect one of course. As long as he did his job in the way he was manufactured to do. “And take care of Flip Flop Fish up on the second floor and the roof, will ya.” Philip always used both locations to describe FFF’s whereabouts, since he was stuck between the two, tail projecting above the roof and head and main part of the body below. Caught as much as a fish in a net, ready for filleting with an appropriate knife. But this never happened. Philip needed his energy and knowledge too much. Or maybe it was a she; he’d have to check sometime. His (or her) name I believe was… Limey. Very interesting: because quite similar to Bart’s handy tree outside his bedroom window he used to escape the house and watch the cow film in downtown NWES City, the one he reviewed in what turned out to be his now world famous addendum to the TILE Manifesto. But Philip was probably aware of this connection too, what with being a world famous figure himself, a world *creating* figure, actually. 1/2 lemon and 1/2 lime, hmm (if so). The plot thickens.

On his way up to Constantynople and the library he intended to visit to see what had been written about him within, he stops by the town’s assimilated airfield for a drink at an attached bar. This was the same establishment fully formed and approved alternate or doppelganger Shelley first met her original self and compared notes, desired eating habits to begin. “I’ll have what she’s having,” the doppelganger tested, finding it good but she would have added a bit more salt to the fries and ketchup to the chicken. Her first real meal, though. How exciting!

“I’ll have what *he’s* having.” It is happening again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0039, 0410, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

Tagged as Bartholomew Smipson^*+++++$, Chuck Close, Chuck^*, NODAL, Philip Linden^*+++++!$, Shelley Struthers^^++++++, TILE MANIFESTO+++++, WORLD FAMOUS

May 2, 2023 · 4:59 pm

continuation

Early morning; just before the crack of dawn. Alvin Green unloads his greens and other groceries from the truck into the mart. Phyllis walks Baby Chuck in order to try to get him to shut the f- up and not wake Papa. Poor Papa, she thinks. Needs his beauty sleep for the big interview today where he goes up against Tom Finger for sub vice chief manager of roads and agriculture for the town. Of course he had to join the SODA group and correspondingly drop a letter or 2 or syllable or 2 or something from his name to rez his notes for the meeting, big privilege by itself. Honored to get even a nod in his direct from the uppity highers who also happen to be hirers. But the baby must shush. The baby must go elsewhere if not. Thus Phyllis out in the relative cold with a hopefully bundled up enough toddler, fearing that it might catch a cold. Suppress the negative! she thinks while wheeling Chuck around, reviewing in her mind the positive oriented channeling literature she read before bed. But the cold, the *colds*. Baby Chuck sneezes, making it even worse. Alvin notices, invites her to sit in the truck with the child and turn on the heat while he continues to unload. You shouldn’t be out here, he thinks but doesn’t speak. He’s polite that way; likes to stay out of other people’s business. He may know about the interview too, has put 2 and 2 together to make a mother wheeling a baby around in a stroller at 6:15 on a rather cold morning in later April or early May make sense. Can’t believe it’s May or almost May already, he thinks, trying to remember the exact date while shivering. Obliging, thankful Phyllis crawls into the truck with Chuck. “Chuck truck,” the baby says rhythmically, seeming to make him happy. It worked, thinks Phyllis. It worked, thinks Alvin. Finished with the rest of the groceries, he takes his time with the greens, letting them warm up together. And it will be warm for him when he starts again — added bonus.

But Phyllis was desperate. Seeing the keys dangling from the ignition, she must have gone into some kind of trance, put her lead foot down after taking it out of neutral, and just FLEW. She even let go of the wheel, crazily trusting that the truck would have guidance on it own.

She saw a rider-less bike ahead while zooming into the just rising sun, the ultimate warmth as it were. Who would reach it first?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0204, Jeogeot, Michigan, Sunklands^

Tagged as Alvin Straight^*++++, Alvin^*, BIKE, Chuck Cheese/Biker Chick/Penn Mann^^=====^*, Chuck Close, Chuck^*, TRUCK++++, Vampire Chuck^*+

April 16, 2023 · 12:06 pm

Tyrone

No azure door here, Hucka, but a reflection of a door across the road, garage in that case. Interesting patterning.

And almost across the road from that: an anomaly. Doesn’t clear up using any angle of view.

Then looking the opposite direction: ladder boy, we’ll call him, someone who seems to have unusually short legs for his stature, the opposite of what a basketball player might possess. Illusion, as it turns out from other directions, but perhaps still meaningful given all else. His head overlaps the ladder’s bottom rung. Dressed in Azure. Are we suppose to climb further in order to find the true door? (no answer) Or are we suppose to look sideways from what we are doing? (no answer) Maybe some combo of Heaven and Hell we’re looking for, hmm.

Then in going to a handy realty site called redfin.com, we find the actual Azure Door for the house… and in digging deeper we find the residence is owned by a Door. Actually Dorr but close enough.

A personal business of some kind this was suppose to be, but no more info than that in my searchings.

Through the same site we can check out the place via drone video, taking it in from every angle like a 3d cubist painting. The blurred house in Google Streetview across the way turns out to be quite ordinary looking. Wonder why that occurred? We can guess: substitution.

As we keep flying around, we spot the Horns coming around the corner of ~~Woo and Crab~~ Wood and Chuck in their Real Life silver(-blue) truck rented in Silver City. Once again they’ve been expected.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0610, Google Street View, Illinois, New Mexico

Tagged as Baker Bloch^*++++++@, Benny Right Horn^*++++, Chuck^*, Hucka Doobie^^++++++@%%, Jer Left Horn^*++++, LADDER, NODAL, STATE MIX UP, TRUCK++++, TYRONE+++

June 15, 2021 · 9:05 am

00270103

“Picturetown, huh?” He glanced back at his prospective new customer, unable to see the holes in his head from this angle. Well, he *does* take the flights that no one else will cover, including flying to imaginary countries, counties, and cities if needed. Last week it was Oz. Week before: Wonderland. One of the Alices wanted to go home to visit a sick aunt who might or might not be on her deathbed, hard to tell. But she had to find out. Then before that: he couldn’t recall. Maybe Texarkana. “Sure, I’ll do it,” he said, not wanting to delay his reply any longer, wanting to exude confidence that he could get the job done. He’s checked all the maps in the meantime. No Picturetown in Canada or anywhere else in the world. But he’ll get him there. All he needs is the coordinates, and he can get them from Chuck and his special computer tapped into the Lemon World, the one no one is suppose to know about. Chuck connects him to the fantasy lands, and for that he gets a hefty wage in *real* money, not that fake green crap they peddle at, say, Oz. Rubles, someone tried to hand him the other day after a flight to Borneo. “No rubles,” he said in return. “*Real* money,” and he kept his hand out until actual, metal coins were laid in it, signifying a completed sales transaction. Paper money doesn’t hack it for our Marion “Star” Harding, former ace pilot in the World Wide Web War, version 2.0. Since then they’d come out with 3.0 and he was back at his desk, back to being a private pilot specializing in the weird and even profane, like sneaking the elf hookers out of Santaland and back to Easter Isle where they belong. Bunnies, he thought here. Nothing but bunnies. “5:15 tomorrow okay for you?” he asked the prospective customer, working with numbers on his computer at the same time he thought all this other stuff.

“Sure.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0103, Nautilus, Upper Austra^

Tagged as BORNEO, Chuck Cheese/Biker Chick/Penn Mann^^=====^*, Chuck^*, Kolya/Pepi/Can^*+++++, Marion Harding^*++++++, RUBLES

March 30, 2020 · 5:05 am

Marble

“Sorry about Santman, boss,” robot doorman Chuck bellowed in his giant voice down to passing (Tron)Axis, who didn’t speak up. Highies usually didn’t acknowledge Lowies in Fearzum-town, and Axis was not one to break protocol on this. But indeed he was sorry about it too. He had high hopes for a new and copyright free superhero named Santman. Highest of the high.

—–

Meanwhile, over on the Elephant’s Trunk of the Corsica continent to the west (keeping in mind that Corsica is an elephant, an ever popular meme), Axis’ wife Wheeler had gone back to her old routine: essentially waiting for the return of her hubbie from Fearzum back to Fearzom or thereabouts, most recently in Rond. But they had moved on from Rond that night we visited them there recently, and Wheeler seems to now have a place near her beloved Cafe Maroon in Red Mars. Because we will probably end this here present photo-novel, 18th in the Collagesity photo-novel series, in Fearzom or thereabouts instead of Fearzum or thereabouts, where Axis still is. Good chance; Red Mars dictates this. And Venus. Venus and Mars may or may not be alright tonight. Marty might know. In fact…

“I never figured it out neither,” he spoke up to me (The Lord) from a beach bar in Wet Hoof. But he still might be a lover to Wheeler on the side…

… unless it’s Marvel Man. Yes, let’s just go with that, The Man freshly regurgitated back out of Ant after the failed Santman project. I believe there’s still a bit of ant saliva dripping from his hair, which he deftly covers with his old Elvis wig on a ~~larch~~ lark. We’ll catch up with the 2 in Cafe Maroon.

“But aren’t you married to Parasol?”

The Man quickly recedes into the background with this, remembering obligations to his wife. *He* is faithful, even if she isn’t. The Man always had one true love, the Eve to his Adam, the Wo-man to his Man. And Dog makes 3.

No, let’s instead just have Axis return from Fearzum to Fearzom (or thereabouts), reunited with his wife after the failed Santman project but also successful Morgan Freechild killing in nearby Ephant, just down the line at the beginning of the trunk. 1/2 and 1/2. They decide to celebrate the latter instead of be sad for the former.

“You didn’t turn your back on me,” spoke Wheeler, now in a blue-green Venus wig befitting her new status as queen of Cafe Maroon, queen of Red Mars itself most likely.

“No,” he answered in his handsome voice. “I gave up the office, the view of the granite topped Ashenlave summit, just to be here with you. I hope you’re happy (about it).” There was remorse in his pretty tone. He knew Wheeler was behind the Santman failure. She needed him here, and here he was, blue-green as well. Faithful. For now.

“Do you like my new look?” she spoke over to similarly coffee sipping Axis, more immersed in the Tron machinery than ever. “I made it just for you, just for this place. Fearzom or thereabouts.”

“Stop saying that,” he quickly snapped back.

—–

We could actually end our current photo-novel here, but The Pattern dictates that there are 7 or 8 or 9 or 10 additional posts to go, perhaps even a little more. Fearzom not Fearzum will be the rule. Unless it changes. Thanks for continuing to read!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0609, Ashenlave^, Corsica, Northwest^

Tagged as Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++++++@, Chuck^*, Marty^*+++++$, The Mann^*++++++$, Tronaxis^*~~~~~~, Venus Flytrap^^==, Wheeler Wilson^^++++++\@

July 14, 2018 · 12:23 pm

absorption

“I should be finished with journal 9 in 2 weeks or less, Robert Drake Johns. Then we will reassess the situation.”

“That’s great, Older Mabel,” spoke the tall, lime green robot seated beside her. His voice was nasal compared to most mechanoids of his type — Mabel designed him this way to appear slightly comical to her and help lighten the mood sometimes. Because the mood was dire in many instances. The Wastelands held nothing back.

“I’m wondering when The Monster will return,” started RDJ again. “Sally lives on the edge of the Deep Dunes but hasn’t seen or smelled anything in 2 weeks or more. The Axis powers may have won the war, but they haven’t been especially active conquerors… let us do what we please, when we please.”

“Oh they’re around.” She scribbles quickly once more. “Right now I’m seeing a narrow boat, mired deep in the high sands. Two children — no, a child and a man, actually an older man. Then another, observing man. No, sorry again, a woman but with many eyes, some which could be masculine. Actors and Observers again, Robert Drake Johns.”

“I miss my cousin,” said RDJ out of the blue. “I miss Cardboard. The character and not the substance, although that has disappeared too. All metal and rust now; little plastic as well.”

“And parchment,” added Mabel brightly. “Thank Gods for parchment.”

“And Ink!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0009, 0602, New Island^, The Waste^^

Tagged as Chuck^*, Eraserhead Man^*+#$, Mabel^^++++++, Robert Drake Johns^*~~~#, Robot Derak Jones^*#, Roger Pine Ridge/Biker Mann^*++++++@, Sally Spark O Naut^^++++#

March 4, 2017 · 11:29 am

Meribel 02

Some of the townspeople have gathered behind Leilani Lodge and Chalet for an improptu party.

Included in the picture below are economist Donald McClean, his wife Zelda, Rinnie the Elf (another North Pole refuge), and flag waving snowie Lawrence Love.

Stucky Park.

Jim Thorn’s home. He’s the local tailor and dentist. Jim’s wife Kiki doesn’t care much for snow so he bought these fall backdrops for her to mask the surrounding, white mountains.

Mid Hazel finally confronts Wheeler in the middle of the road at Meribel’s western border. Wheeler is so startled that she runs her bike off Alpine Way into a large log.

The next thing she remembers is waking up on Chuck’s couch, wondering what hit her. Mid Hazel stood nearby.

“I’ve sent the others away,” she said in a more normal voice than you’d imagine for a 500 year old witch. “It’s those darn kids. They’re inside the X.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0003, 0610, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara

Tagged as Chuck^*, Donald McClean, Jim Thorn, Kiki Thorn, Laurie Love, Mid Hazel^^++++++%, Rinnie the Elf, Wheeler Wilson^^++++++\@, Zelda McClean

March 4, 2017 · 10:04 am

Meribel 01

The sleepy village of Meribel exists along what’s now called Alpine Way, an offshoot of Route 18. Although the majority lies in the namesake sim of Meribel, the town limits extend eastward into Eagan to include areas around Alpine Way down to this juncture. A more ancient name for this part of Meribel is Moral.

Juncture of Alpine Way with Route 18.