Tag Archives: Frog Prince^*===

September 19, 2026 · 12:19 pm

00510613 (Pink St.)

The truth about the central Prince statue of Hate Cy, Planet Q has been revealed by the illuminating sun continuing to rise in the morning sky, dispelling more darkness and shadow hour by hour, second by second, minute by minute. The common people also emerge from the black to rise up and challenge the affluent, suburbian biased white folk hiding in their Ivory Towers all around. The night lights advertising super mega corp CATTY CO controlling the center wink out one by one by one. The edifice MUST be torn down!

—–

“I’m glad it’s being town down,” opined Shelley J. *Struthers* sitting just above fellow *Silver* band member Okama Majo on a stack of old cars at the western edge of town, everything reset now.

“I just hope everyone will understand and remember what happened,” he said back, noticing the tip of the more distant sand thing had already been removed.

But what *did* happen? That’s something we still have to find out. tbc

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0613, Bandanaboro, Omega, Planet Q

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September 19, 2026 · 12:18 pm

00510612 (to remember them by)

“Say cheese!”

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September 19, 2026 · 6:25 am

00510611

I had… Anocemax right here on the table where yesterday I’d been woofing down a suspect bland topless pizza and where I was sitting when the unsliced top showed up afterwards with a mouth running on about Silver this and Silver that, turning *me* Silver in the end, *sigh*. Should’ve been Jack instead of Luigi’s at the end of that row staring with King followed by Queen but it wasn’t in the cards; all sour grapes or at least fruit by this point. This won’t happen tonight; I’ll make sure of *that*. I unload two pills red and blue from the bottle before me into my shooting hand and raise them toward my open mouth.

“Don’t do it!” shouted a likewise open mouthed, frilly, grape colored Prince barging through the front door. My Hitcher! I realized, or close enough. Must have used the wrong vendor. “Oh,” I said, realizing what he was concerned about. “No no, these are *appetite suppressant* pills, not the kind that can kill you. I just wanted to avoid the pizza again.”

“You sure about that?” Prince said, looking at me askance with that famous pout like he knows something I don’t.

Anocemax, I ponder. “Oh DARN! I bought the wrong drug from that cheap ass pharmacy in town. I wanted Aconamex!”

“Precisely. And I’m here to collect the remainder of your balance.” Then Prince shrunk down into the same blasted banana I was trying to avoid all along, starting the cycle all over again. “Empty your pockets,” he commanded. “Give it all over to me. NOW.”

I turned them inside out like before, handed over the $19.99 it surprisingly produced which he seemed pleased with and said it was just enough to party down like there was no tomorrow. Which he also indicated there wasn’t. tbc?

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August 17, 2026 · 6:08 am

00510306 (prison)

“We should have never gone down to that f-cking planet, Frank. We’re just Black Men down there. Pitch darkly.”

“I know. I hear ya.” He looks down at his own skin and calms himself with the brown. Man in Brown. Not Black. Discernment. We’re all different, you know. *White* people.

On cue, white men Philip and Mikie join him on each side as Karl points to the only way out he knows. Space. But it could be too later for all that.

“Is that the North Star?” Frank asks innocently as they continue to stare.

“No.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0306, GTA, GTA old, Planet Q

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August 15, 2026 · 1:55 pm

00510303

CATTY CO had taken over the world, this Planet Q of not Earth system, not Orion system, but elsewhere. A nobody planet, backwoods as described by one of our protagonists Michelangelo. A corporation larger than any in Cyberpunk 2077. 96.725% of all fits comfortably in its iron fisted hand. It was up to Okama to save. He saved his work to the external hard drive so he can easily switch from one 13 year old computer to another residing side by side on his desk. Done for the night.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0303, C2077, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS, Planet Q, Xilted

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September 9, 2022 · 4:22 am

assimilations continue

Long Islands’ Benvolians love their solo artists. Here’s Prince and David Bowie, perhaps the 2 greatest such acts in musical history in terms of just raw, pure creativity.

Then of course Mama Cass (top), along with Elvis and Ol’ Blue Eyes Frank Sinatra. David Bowie has blue eyes too, but, as I think I’ve relayed here before, one appears brown or darker because of a condition called anisocoria (enlarged pupil). And then there’s Wilson Wheeler, I mean, Wheeler Wilson modelling another purple outfit, this time one of her harper dresses. Wheeler actually is afflicted by the same eye discoloration, seeming to have 1 blue and 1 brown eye. No mere accident there.

She stares over at Bowie, wondering if she has his anisocoria or true heterochromia — actual mismatched blue and brown hued eyes in other words. Doesn’t matter, she decides. The effect in this same. In the moment, she’s actually, come to think of it again, a mixture of Bowie and Prince, the latter famous for his purple garb. Interesting they appear together here in this most famous of Benvolian locations called Brazen Head, claiming itself as Our Second Lyfe’s oldest Irish pub. I think the owners anticipated the coming of Wheeler. She’s very famous as well, moreso in the future than the present. She’s working on it. Might be a modelling or fashion designing career that leads her there, might be something else. Desire creates reality, and she’s very determined to make it into that exclusive circle.

Maybe she should take up jazz piano.

—–

Ho ho, she can play!

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March 11, 2022 · 10:29 am

00320113

Although separated now, she often dreams of him still, and sometimes she *is* him in the dream, like here. He (she) exits the rundown house where he’s lived for going on 25 years, intending to go to the library but then realizing he doesn’t have a key any longer. He doesn’t work there no more. A dove flies overhead and something lands in his beautiful purple hair, making it imperfect. Thinking the dove pooped on him, he curses it as it wings its way back over the plain from whence he or she came.

He turns around, intending to wash his hair out in the sink or, better yet, take another shower, then apply more gel and finisher. He steps into the shower after removing his clothes. He’s still taller, darker, and, yes, more withdrawn. But he’s about to change that, about to wash away his “sins”. The water comes on. He washes his tall, dark body. He wishes Debbie were still around, wishes he could invite her over to join him. He imagines them together in his head as he continues to suds. Body done now; hair next. The water moves to the head. He rinses it well before applying shampoo, and, finally, touching it for the first time since the dove incident. His fingers start to move around his scalp. Something oddly shaped and metallic is quickly encountered. He withdraws it from his curls, looks down at the open hand. 319. This is the gift of the dove. This is the gift of the *library*. He doesn’t need to head there any longer.

She wakes up.

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March 11, 2022 · 8:54 am

Prince

After the kiss, he was different: taller, darker, more withdrawn. He danced to the beat of his own drum (she thought as he drummed his hands against the side of his legs). She realized this wasn’t going to work. Nothing cook’n in here.

Time to open up the oven door and make a withdrawal.

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March 11, 2022 · 8:05 am

symbol gets literal

“Well? How do you li–?” (*smooch*)

She figured she didn’t have time to waste, plus this is perfect. How did he set this all *up*??

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March 10, 2022 · 10:23 am

golden opportunity

Sister Debbie left him in Stoogle to contemplate why a waterfall would be situated in the middle of a wetland. She had to get back to Tyrrell — two “r”‘s you’ll notice, bringing it closer to home North Carolina.

Jerry was there. And he knew how to put out the fire.

“Frying Pan Village,” he spoke over from his position of power on the couch of the centerpiece bar. Dome of purple hair he had, cluing us in to who this really was. “It’s the only way to further this mystery.”

“Frying Pan Island,” she voiced, testing out the sound of the overarching location. Could he be The One? How to break it to Dickie? We were, after all, husband and wife. Before we decided to instead be brother and sister. He’ll take it hard, she decided. He’ll have to go too, she realized.

“There’s… someone else in my life right now,” she ventured.

“Bring him along,” he shot back, all up for a more than 2 relationship. “Or her.”

“Him,” she quickly followed. Would this work?

—–

Besides, he had a friend too. A best friend. A foursome it is.

(to be continued)

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