Tag Archives: Frank LynnGTAV^*++$

00480614

Afterwards she provided more details about her father. Finally. “He lived on top of a mountain but not that one, the one we talked about before.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking of my own mountain, my own castle here. I don’t live on top — not yet anyway; working my way up there with the positioning of this bed behind the eyes at the top of the spiral staircase; just for more privacy on this special special occasion (!) But instead more in the middle where the great majority of my things are still, like my notebooks, like my piano. Just behind the mouth and that gall darn big tongue sticking out from within. The one Philip likes to take his wee-wee’s off of between games of High Speed, ha. Hmm, wee-wee again. Pee pee, I restated in my mind, to match Daisy’s progression of the phrase in moving from real to virtual back in ’12, she revealed.

“They torn down his *house*, Frank,” she just blurted out. “It was awful. Just because he was a rich white man in a poor black country-state working on stuff they couldn’t understand.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I decided to say.

“So am I. He built a much smaller, much more modest house to live in after that but they just torn that one down too, the ‘stuff’ being the problem and not the money he made off of it. Not really… at the core. He had no choice but to leave. Off this world, actually, to a second one initially thought to be far far away indeed, unobtainable to reach in distance of space. He sank all the remainder of his money into the endeavor.”

“Off – world?” I didn’t know where this was going. Was she insinuating that her father was an astronaut? Actually flew into space on a rocket ship? “What could he have… I mean, what did he do to–”

“–incite the people to such anger, such destruction?” she finished his fumbling question. “He was head of a startup company developing AI.”

“Artificial – intelligence?”

“Yes. And they, the townspeople surrounding him on all sides east west north south, believed it to be an evil spirit, a rare, *dark* orisha they called it. Because it threated the whole world, the survival of the human species itself. Or so they were told.”

She became silent here, like a mute button was automatically activated on her flat top head. And so it was. tbc

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0614, Africa, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

00480608

“You know, I’m kind of tired of all this, Wendy of hot dog restaurant fame. I think I’m going home. I think I’m going over to Nada’s tonight instead of staying here. I think I’m… leaving.”

But Wendy didn’t care. Wendy was merely a stand in for another. Again.

—–

—–

“How was Little Hell today, Philip?” Frank asked while they were gathered together once more around the dining table at suppertime. Or thereabouts. Frank just assumed he wouldn’t go to Heaven. The 2, upper level doors to his high castle in the skies labelled such don’t naturally swing that way for him, being an Id figure and all. Disposable by the end (of the game) as stated.

“Oh. The usual,” he answers Frank. “Think I’m going down to the coast tonight for my r&r, though. See if Nada is still hanging around Lexi’s place.”

“Good idea.” Mouse was absent from the castle too, having gone back to the Amazon’s cement pond to confer with Pansy about more YouTube Poop possibilities. He knows now that the rest of New England is key for the movement of the main castle down through the states (of consciousness?). Now maybe Frank can enjoy a little peace and quiet about the place. Maybe time to call up Daisy, ask her how her day’s been at the bar. And remind her of that *third* date. Because tonight, he felt, was the night, Miss Mistletoe 2025 and her waiting lips being more a distant thought than ever. He knew about her real life Nigerian origins with the mother priestess and all, and her continuation of that ancestral calling in virtual Rodentia. He knew that the father had something directly to do with the out-of-this-world Non she wanted to develop, and why she came to Jeogeot’s only inland sea of Nawt Vaya in the first place. She’d heard about the alcoholic sea monster, what issues for the Hole in the Wall it caused. An opening had been revealed. Non-alcohol would be all they could serve, which slotted in perfectly for her plans of Our Second Lyfe dominance in that department. All has been revealed about the family that needs to be. Time for a different kind of revealing, of a more intimate type. Frank was ready. Now the question on his mind is: was Daisy ready for this kind of commitment?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, Omega, 0608, Southern, 0048, Little Hell+

00480604 (00420515 revisited (1/2 way))

“Get out the shot, honey. I’m trying to take a picture of that ghoul in the cemetery over there!”

—–

“My people were tough on crime. And they didn’t tolerate breaking the law either. We grew up in the shadow of a mountain that began with Wee-Wee. My mother, when we moved over here to the states in ’79, said to be proud of the name and where we came from. But I was embarrassed, always called it the alternate name of Onigbaporo however tongue-twisty and unmemorable that was to the white people of our new land. But when I found Pee Pee Creek over on the west side of Rodentia and its crazy cemetery and its baffling preacher church I knew I had also found a home again in this world of Our Second Lyfe. My mother was priestess before in the “Wee-wee” place we came from and now I became quote unquote priestess in the Pee Pee place, as male and female polarities also switched positions there. It all made some kind of beautiful, circular loop.”

I studied the photo she held in her hand, looked at the flat headed statue of her mother in the center square the townspeople chose to erect before they left, a permanent tribute to her famous presence in their small Nigerian burg. Then I looked up from the photo at Daisy’s flat hair, the perpetually shaving razor held by a ghostly, hovering hand next to it. I started to understand the dynamics involved. But there was still the explanation of her non-colored father remaining. Non, hmm, I pondered. Could that be the reason for the obsession with creating the perfect, non-alcoholic brew? Turns out this was so… partially. TBC

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00480602 (Alabama Phoenix)

I am far away from you now.

But I will return.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0602, Alabama, C2077, Small China, Starfield

00480601 (“Clucky?” (inland sea too))

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0601, GTA

00480515 (red means stop)

The BD was over as Terrance Sr. took off her red dress at 12 and turned back into a man, ball over. I pulled the rig off my head, sat up. STB man, I recognized early on, basically at the start of it all. I must put this down in my blog!

—–

Ahh, *exactly* what I need,” thinks Philip in one of his more recent dreams as he spots it coming toward him. He then positions himself directly in front of the approaching red El Camino, freshly entering his hometown of GTAV’s Sandy Shores from the east, daring it to hit him. It screeched to a halt — big mistake, should have just plowed right through the him like a speeding bullet or something.

Philip goes to the door, opens it, drags the passenger out on the road, debates whether to smash his head in but decides not to as he has more important matters to deal with today, takes control of the wheel…

… leaving Albertville M. Spaghettiboro by way of Stockholm and Lima coughing and wheezing in the smoke of his spinning tires and belching exhaust pipe. “Little Hell here we come!” he cries about the destination on the opposite side of the Alamo Sea from Sandy Shores as the landscape wizzes by him — directly across from SS, actually. Some people call it Heaven but Philip knows the truth because you have to raise a Little Hell first, like a child to an adult. All children are spawns of Satan, he knew. Like 7th Devil up in the castle perpetually holding the bowl of patriot soup that stands in for a cement pond. Or something — Frank explained the whole 4 string alignment resulting from Mouse’s diabetic fit the other day to him but his brain didn’t retain all that much. All he thinks of is pleasure, what’s good for *moi*. Which is why he had to, in the end, be killed. By Frank or Mikie, didn’t matter that much. Death to Philip Strevor was all that both could think of. The Id to their Ego and Superego respectively must *go*. TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0515, GTA

00480505 (Franks combined (666 coverup))

Frank Lynn liked to read while on the toilet and had quite the collection of magazines laying about the castle’s only bathroom. But in putting down a copy of “Xxxmas Belles” picked for the season and taking a look around, he realizes he needs to clean up all this before Daisy comes up for a visit, which he guesses will be real soon. 1st date already done: ice cone parlor in Juho, then hanging down at the beach by the upper end of the Nawt Vaya Sea. Some smooching occurred, to his delight, but not too heavy, since this was a public place and all. And, yes, he found out that she had a black mama. Not a New Ager like his own, into all sorts of aroma therapy and aura cleansing and shite. She wasn’t raised a granola child like him, which he kind of rebelled against when he got into his teens. But still — the same color. And something was going on with her father but she avoided further questions about that after it was vaguely brought up — peculiar. Oh well, hopefully I’ll find out more soon enough, he thinks while pulling out his phone from his lowered pants. Maybe I should give her a call now that I have her number, set up that 2nd date while I’ve worked up the courage. Goodbye Miss Mistletoe 2025, he said in his mind, taking one last gander at the centerfold spread out on his lap with the waiting lips. Hello a different, more real and attainable kind of those. Dialing…. *now*.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0505, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

00480504 (Old Railroad Grade (C is 4…))

“Caledonia has been mentioned in 48, *cement pond* has been mentioned. That’s 2 in a row. And then Baker obviously, since that’s me: baker b.! And through baker b., both Baker Bloch and Baker Blinker, the original male-female duality of the blog and what everything builds around. And then Maxwell to end — she’s obviously around as well (wife). So that’s 4 in a row again, just like here in your castle, Frank. Whaddaya think, huh? HUH?”

“Get out,” Frank says to this issuance. Philip starts to leave. Frank catches him. “No no, I mean, get out of him, baker b. I want to talk to Philip directly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Philip” turns around, returns to the couch. Baker exits the body; Frank has learned enough from him. “W-where am I, w-what *happened*?”

“Never mind all that, Philip. You’re back and that’s the most important thing.”

“I *am*?”

“Yeah, it happened again. You got all dizzy and had a lie down, let’s say.”

“I *did*?”

“Yes, you *did*.”

“Huh. I can’t remember.”

“Of course not.”

“I can’t remember *any* of that. Was I high on speed? Was I playing High Speed? And, worst of all, was I playing High Speed while high on speed?”

Frank decided to say, all of the above.

“Golly.”

“Golly Miss Molly, yeah.”

Philip looks up at the video feed, at the map. “W-what’s that? 4?”

“Yeah.” Must still be doing a little channeling, Frank rationalizes this insight. “4 in a string,” he explained, “but I think Caledonia is 4 instead of 1. It’s reversed from what I saw before here. I’M WITH STUPID — that indicates (the holder is) the wife. And (stone holding) hubby baker b. is being pointed to, ha. Veery clever. And cement turns into concrete to seal the deal. Concrete, Washington I’m talking about here, which use to be named Baker. I checked: former towns Cement City and Baker combined to form Concrete back in 1909. So there’s that.”

“But… why am *I* here?”

“I told you. You were playing pinball. In the wrong way. Again.” In truth, *Edward* turned into Philip while Mouse had a bit of a lie down after all the excitement. He was in the spare bedroom that Philip uses occasionally. No room today. Well, there’s never any room in the tiny bedroom adjacent to the stairwell. STOP

GO “What’s this, then. Adjacent?”

“Yes, Philip. The tile before the 1st. Le Roy. Lime, indicating lime Jell-O, a new, 5th flavor added to an original 4 in 1930. We have to go down. Something — is there. TBC

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00480503

I watch over him from the moved table as he continues to shake. I called Lexi and she said it was in all likelihood an epileptic fit caused by all those Youtube poop videos he watches with the flashing lights and all. She just suggested keeping an eye on him until it passes — and DON’T put anything in his mouth, she warns. I couldn’t call Daisy at the Hole in the Wall; didn’t know her number. Must rectify that soon. Anyway, Lexi said she was probably too far away to help, and that the fit should only last a couple of minutes at most. I didn’t know her current location, forgot to ask. So I just waited…

… and waited. I glanced at my watch not on my arm. 3 minutes now. Glance again. 3 1/2. Glance again 3 3/4. At this rate it will never end, Zeno’s Paradox. So I stopped glancing at my watch, started counting Mississippi’s. One Mississippi, two Mississippi. On and on I went. 100 Mississippi, and that added on to the 3 3/4 minutes I had to start this. 200 Mississippi — okay, calling Lexi again. “Help!” I said. “Get here!” But just then he sat up, stopped shaking, seizure ended, as if nothing had happened. But he was different, really different. “Where is Edward with the stone?” he monotoned, and threw away his cane into a corner. “I need to talk to Edward. I need to *see*… Edward.”

So I pulled him out of the back of the fireplace where he lived and then this happened.

There they were, all lined up in a row, all holding something. I didn’t know what to make of it! TBC

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00480502

“What you looking at now, Dr. Mouse? More Youtube poop?” Frank Lynn was truly curious again. What was his dead roommate up to?

“Not *technically*. It’s a video about Grand Theft Auto, you know, the place where *you’re* from, both you and Philip.”

“*Oh.*” Now Frank was *really* curious. “And, let’s see (he peers closer at the screen), there’s a giant eyeball, I see. And… a star?”

“Rockstar,” Mouse answers. “Like the company that created GTA but also your friend. They connect through the lines.”

“Red, green, blue, yellow, yeah,” Frank Lynn recites. “I remember. His creation is like my creation, me being baker b. the user.” Frank knew he had the power to channel all that. Thus the high castle in the skies, the resonance with Heaven here with a capital H. Little *h*ell is far away now for him. But Philip… different story. “What does it mean?” Frank asks. “The picture here, the Rockstar and the eyeball with the lightning bolts. Jupiter?”

“Could be could be. I have to go to the table now. I have to make notes. Please don’t unfreeze the image on the screen here while I work over there.” He points backwards with his cane from his viewing chair, toward the kitchen we saw him sitting at with Frank and Philip a couple of sections ago. I don’t believe he’s shown up in this here blog and attached photo-novel since. Time to bring him back I guess. Oh wait… what’s happening? He’s now on the floor . He’s shaking… violently! Frank… do something! Move the table and its contents to start! TBC

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