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*.
Tag Archives: HIGHWAY 666
00480505 (Franks combined (666 coverup))
00480114
Ironically, the only bags she had to offer Mouse for totting his newly bought red dress home were trash too. She unceremoniously dumps the purchased dress inside, draws the likewise red strings, and hands the filled black plastic container over to him from across the counter. Although he struggles with carrying both the bag and the cane at once while walking out, she doesn’t offer to help, doesn’t even hold the front door open for him.
He trudgingly makes his way toward the now vacant Rat Hole establishment from the shop, wondering if his not wife but girlfriend — maybe — will enjoy the gift. Birthday, he ponders. 666 or thereabouts. Hard to forget. Demon inside her too to help him remember. Might as well be stamped onto her forehead.
Wheeler again of course.

Where is the old fool? she thinks after glancing again at her watch still on her arm.
Must rest now, he determined, catching his breath. Hope she f-ing likes it!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0114, Dokken Hollow, Jeogeot
00470303 (6666 posts, 666 pages — coincidence?)
“And so that’s how it all started, this story of FILE derived from TILE,” observing Nauty declared in his wise guy way. “We simply had to move Firey from 4th to 1st in this bottom group of 4 to spell out the word F-I-L-E with the first letters of their reordered names. F stands in for T because these are the 2 straight letters of the alphabet which can contain 7 sub-letters per the TILE game structure. The BFDI object-character colors here also match the 4 of TILE in red green blue yellow of course, although the individual letter to color correspondences are different from the game board. I could go on and on, but I’ll ask you the burning question that now presents itself up front and center alongside or even on top of repositioned Firey: What happened to the Dream Island all these characters were so fiercely battling over, often to their deaths? We know the answer to that too, given it presents itself as a constant in *our* world.”
“Constance,” I say to this, citing the name of the FILE sim that is also the name of the island in question.
“Correct,” he wheezes. “We should return but I’m not sure that’s possible given all else that’s happened in the meantime.” Since the demise of my attempted urban center there I dubbed Constantynople, I understood. Back toward the end of photo-novel 39 I believe. Checking….. checking….. Yes. 39. The island seems to have changed little in the intervening 2 or so years, indeed an aberration for such a large group of separately owned properties in the ever changing world that is Our Second Lyfe. It truly appears to represents some sort of sticky outie constant.

pin filled map of Constance Island with my former Constantynople at the top
“But we still have, let’s see, the rest of FILE,” I said, “the other 30 sims in this column that Constance more or less centers. Minus the hacked off 1 at the top.”

Constance Island in the middle of the 32>31 Nautilus continent “FILE” (purple column)
“Exactly centers including the hacked off 1 at the top,” furthers Nauty, knowing his continent better than me, since it is the same as his body in essence, pins stuck just there there there there, and so on and so forth. Constance is just a start. But also an end. “(The sim of) Ten Pages is 10 up from the bottom,” he continues with his FILE knowledge, “indicating that the 32 minus 1 (the top sim was wacked off in the retirement process), taken as a whole, are pages of a book, perhaps a chapter, perhaps more.”
“A section,” I say. But then I knew it had to be 2 if so.
“The… doorstep to the Temple of TILE was positioned right smack in the center of the 32 sim FILE,” he pinpoints while wheezing out.
Suddenly I knew what had to be done.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0303, Constantynople, Goikyland, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Temple of TILE
00470201 (explorers)
“We can’t go back to Holland again?” he questions, staring at the newest image on the screen.
“Oh Eddy, we can’t even get to the top of Mt. Sandraman without being distracted, much less another place in another world. Be here in the here and now. Be Free.”
“Let’s go!” he urged. But he stood still.
—–
“Oh look, the image is changing into something else we know. Wallytown. On (nearby) Fishers Island. Remember?”
“Of course I remember,” responded Shelley, still standing behind him in her finest cashmere bathrobe, still waiting on a decision. Where to go, where to go? Somewhere away from *here*. Or at least go to that hill that likes to call itself a mountain *within* here, pheh. She tires of being chained as an object. 6 6 6 is over. It’s now 7. Freedom.
But they stood still.
—–
Too late, Eddy. Too late. The dream Spider has arrived.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0201, Europe, Holland, New Island^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^
00470101 (Blow Boy)
She sang about freedom in this New Island venue where she married one of the Edwards/Eddys early that day in late April’s May, the new island husband joining her on congas. Then she sang about prison, the 7 reduced to 6 and 6 and 6.
I’ve seen her before I believe. Called her up but it was the wrong number. Killed and beheaded by the Witcher but rose back like the Alabama Phoenix, monstrous fangs in their appropriate slots across the inner mouth, SMILE.
She gets away by being in her own sphere.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0101, Alabama, collages 2d, New Island^, Witcher
00450608
“Lester, can you hear me, Lester? I’m seeing 6’s and 9’s, just like back in grade school. Where am I, Lester?”
“Oh God, Lester! I’m falling!! Falling into a pit, AHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Splatt.
“Oh. That wasn’t so bad.” And Philip wakes up fully on his cushioning bed and remembers that he and Lexi have an important meeting with Princess Pinky Gumm at 10:15 over in Juho. Better not be late.
(to be continued)
00440514
Frank Lynn cut off the radio in disgust. “Aw man, this car is like our country in that it’s a *wreck* and deserves to be towed away.”
“Oh, Frankie, Frankie,” countered one time lover Wanessa, having a different view on things. “Just because you don’t like what The Man be trying to tell us, the good Lord above us all, he still knows what’s good and best, don’t you worry. Don’t you worry a bit about this here country. We’ll be fiiiiiiiine.” She paused, then came up with what she thought was a winning line: “We’re saving *babies* after all.”
Frank looked over, sensing a divide between red and blue, as if an impenetrable white line was drawn between their car seats, passenger and driver. And she had control of the wheel now. Can they resolve it? Tow hook secured, the car moves up and then away from the scene of the crime, where Frank first heard the results. Like a big red cube dropped on us all. And not just one.
Here come the aliens?
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0514, GTA, Inter Face
End
“Hi Tessa!” Carolin called from above while waving. “Ready to go back in the cave?”
Was she ready? Then she remembered the blackboard, the missing center of the equation. Q. Someone named Q.
She recites what she knows in her head. She is on Crow Island at End of Time. Crow Mountain is above her, the Climax. Meditating Freddie — yes. Bakersworks. They are in a Baker B. work. But… someone is missing. Man – About – T…
—–
“Time,” Carolin finished for her later at the blackboard, writing out three identical numbers in a row, the number of the beast from The Bible. “Now… if we extend this infinitely, what do we have? We have a *7*. So we might as well say it with a 7 instead of a 6 for that third. 667,” she finalized, and wrote it on the board. “Who is…”
“Sepisexton,” Tessa answers, getting smarter all the time, and she was pretty sharp from the beginning. She recalled the capital of Olive, the one before Tin separated and became its own principality, the 7 from the 6. Boy we are really ranging far and wide in time now. But I sometimes write that as far and yd. The man comes out from behind the curtain (4th wall). He is a Woo Woo. He believes in ghosts, cracker jacks, and cereal circles with a prize inside. Q.
“Q.” Carolin points. Red Point. Buick. Boss who is green like Bixby. Canada. They are traveling across the frozen Heartland, trying to reach…”
And that’s the one thing she couldn’t remember that Man of Time did. We are done now.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0216, collages 2d, End of Time^^
pub
“‘666 Satan’, it’s called, Cathy A. One of my team researchers Scotty found it on a search for Dharmaraksa images, Google style — almost gave up for the night then checked one more time and found this. And, get this, turns out the main character of the series is named *Ruby*. *You’re* the 666th character of these Collagesity novels. Red Devil was here in this town as late as last week with his unknown establishment of Southern bias. Left a *sign* there: 66, which translates into the same (666).
“And I can *talk* to you without those blasted *hearing aids.* Everything points to you being Ruby yourself. Well, not *that* Ruby necessarily but *our* Ruby, the one that blew up *our* New Island at the age of exactly 15 1/2. Now keep that in mind when I read some notes Scotty sent me along with the (‘666 Satan’ texture).” Eraserhead Man pulls out a small notebook from his pocket. “Let’s see. Okay, this is from a combination of several sources. Alright: ‘Set in the near future, it tells the story of a teenage girl named Ruby Crescent who wants to become a treasure hunter.’ And then he goes on, um, ‘(She’s) a teenage girl of *15*’ — *our* Ruby’s 15 and a 1/2. Can’t get any more 15 than that.” Eraserhead Man flips a couple of pages in his notebook, then: “So there’s mention of a 4 year *timeskip*, just like New Island went though. Again: *our* New Island, not the one out in the middle of the Indian Ocean. This is Our Second Lyfe we’re talking about here. But — this is important too — *that* Ruby, the ‘666 Satan’ one, aged. Turned all voluptuous during those years. *Our* Ruby never changed. She remains, well,” and here Eraserhead Man cups his yellow cartoon hands underneath his breast region. “No real *b’s*. Apples in Preston Weston speak.”
“Hey, thanks a lot. I’ve got b’s.”
“Well I know you do, sweetie. But you’re naturally…”
“Petite,” Cathy A. finishes for Eraserhead Man. “Dainty? *Stunted*?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0415, Gregson^, Maebaleia/Satori, New Island^























