Tag Archives: Mr. Babyface^*

changes

A new skyscraper has come to 7 Stones. More details soon.

Hand in hand with this addition, the townspeople have decided to keep the cubic form of baker b.’s “Art 10×10” of 100 collages, locally known as the Edwardston Station Gallery. Mr. Babyface originally huffs at the retention to anyone within earshot, but is then partially pacified when he realizes he can see the distant Whirlygig Temple from his apartment window by extending his sight range a little beyond the norm, as he did the day of the discovery while trying to spot the top of the new skyscraper mentioned above. Mr. Babyface even contemplates attending services at the temple, if any regular ones are to be found. He’s now a pious fellow, originally praying to God to help him cope with breast tenderness while in his early 40s.

And speaking of temples, there’s also a new one in Collagesity itself;  Mr. Babyface may have a range of religious options to choose from all of a sudden. I am pleased as punch to announce the return of Karoz Blogger’s Temple of TILE, which I suppose means Karoz himself will return to 7 Stones, along with wife Baker Blinker of course. This was a surreptitious decision because Karoz was just about to splurge on a larger parcel over in Chilbo to set the temple up when townspeople voted to retain the ESG. “Come back to 7 Stones,” then urged town leader Baker Bloch to his old friend. “Free of charge; you’ll have all town resources at your disposal.” And so it seems it will be.

The price for all these additions? The groundside galleries holding the “Art 10×10”, namely Gallery Jack,  House Greenup, and SoSo. But, as explained a bit in this earlier post, all of the 100 collages displayed within these structures are still in the Edwardston Station Gallery skybox, so no real subtraction for the village. And now… well, let’s wait to describe some new art coming to town until later. A bridge-maker between old and new. Important!


The Man About Time also pondering religions in his Kidd Tower apartment.

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Filed under *Second Life, Lower Austra, Nautilus^^

another chance

“Ah so. 7 Stones,” Mr. Babyface mutters to himself after The Man About Time left. “What am I doing here? Where’s Greg or Gregg? What happened to being oiled up all the time. Now I’m like acrylic: too fast to dry. Not fluid any longer. Ah so.”

—–

Like Elton John on the “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” cover, we step up and out of Fal Mouth Moon/7 Stones and into another world. A trailer.

—–

I’ve sent Space Ghost and Bullfrog away. The gay problem has been resolved here in the heart of Bill Country. Hecklers be gone!

—–

“This is your new home, Danny. Better than the old one in my opinion. And now you’re gainfully employed. You are custodian of a whole, huge gallery!”

“Thank you *so* much. I promise to keep it clean.” He hangs his head down here. “Unlike the old place.”

“Don’t worry about that now, Danny. I have faith in you. I believe in you.”

—–

5th floor now:

“We’ll be installing the new bathrooms (he points) here.”

“I’m ready, sir.”

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penthouse

“See? It’s all about Greenup, Mr. Babyface. This Floydada Lime it’s called.”

“All (sections) named after fruit?”

“That is correct my fine neighbor.” His voice was mild and youthful; his neighbor’s gruff and aged, belying the babyface appearance.

“Well… if you’re Pierre, as you say, then this town is in for a lot of turning upside down soon. Do you plan to bring back Carr?” Carr was short for Carrcassonnee, the former, alien ruler of Collagesity/7 Stones before the 2016 coup.

“It all depends,” he replies to the babyface man with the gruff, aged voice. “Tell me all about this Wheeler.”

—–

“Damn eyesore it is,” Mr. Babyface suddenly declared, pausing in his spiel about present town ruler Wheeler. “Look at that thing looming up in the air.” He indicated out the window at the boxy Edwardston Station Gallery, the skybox everyone in town is voting on whether to keep. We have two naysayers in the matter sitting here in Mr. Babyface’s lower floor of his Kidd Tower apartment. Mr. Babyface decided “no” the minute he set eyes on the cube; The Man About Time’s choice came a little later. And now he had “Floydada.”

—–

“There’s also a ‘Floydadada’, Mr. Babyface. That’s the one I want next — might even be in SoSo. When I find that I’ll tell the townspeople who I really am, and that I wasn’t killed atall in that giant Lake District gash known as Piers Gill. Instead: Gills Pier. Michigan. 2052.”

But Mr. Babyface knew all about the legend of Pierre Schaeffer. It had been taught in his schools since he was a babyfaced lad.

“Let me show you something, neighbor. *Confidant*.” He scrolls the page down just a bit. “This is me.”

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A to Z


Stan Lee (1922-2018)

—–

“Why did you come here?” Greg Ogden queried his ex-wife Flo. “You know I’m with Mr. Babyface now. Oil me up and all.”

“I know. I’m kind of cool with all that actually. You and The Face. You and *you* and The Face.”

“Middletown’s where it’s at, Flo. Treasure Hill. We get oiled up, we paint, we gear down by looking at the bay, then the next day we start over again. Over and over. And over.”

“And when you’re finished… you’re the monster?”

“Sometimes.” He pauses. “Often,” he admits, which was a lesser lie.

Flo pondered this, guessing it was more than he let on. “You paint to stay sane, then.”

“Maybe,” he replied reflexively. Greg turned, stared at the apartment’s media input with Flo. “‘Hidden Vilage’ is you, you know,” he says, referring to his geometric work portrayed on the screen, completed almost a year ago.

“Red yellow blue perfection. But…”

“… there’s always green to contend with,” she finishes.

—–

Banished to the upstairs apartment, am I, while he and the ex talk. Well (he sighs), might as well make good use of it instead of being all jealous and green eyed, I suppose. Study this Big E again — been a while. Let’s see, where’s Xilted on it again?

Ah so. On the other side. Must spin it around.

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Filed under *Second Life, Middletown SL^

art beings

“I want to change further, Axis. I am not happy being me any longer. Look at the women Rhode photographed here. Beautiful.”

“You have changed, Young Ruby,” Axis advised. “You are now Fairy Ruby, a natural extension. And certainly quite beautiful. Natural beauty. Not like these more fake examples in my opinion.”

“Look at what I found on the marketplace,” Ruby declared, and then rezzed a new top. “Another natural extension?”

“No, Ruby. Put that foolish thing away. Fairy Ruby is quite satisfactory to me, and besides, we get to be married to each other as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. At least for a while.”

“Until the end of the season, yes.” Ruby persisted. “But how about this with the top.”

“No Ruby,” insisted Axis, staring at the manifested hair. “You are trying too hard. Let’s go to the upper floors, to the more abstract art. That will cheer you up and inspire you more. Leave these so-called realistic photos behind. They’re affecting your confidence.”

“Alright. But I’m going to test out my new look a little longer.”

“That’s fine.”

—–

“See Ruby? You passed this accident right by. Intermixed red and green again. Back of a Rhode work instead of a front. Sometimes looking at what’s happening behind the stage, for example, gives more information than the play itself.”

Ruby runs ahead, ganders at the front…

… then looks all around the floor. “Huh. I guess you’re right, Axis. Everything is separated out neat and tidy in front. Green in this one. Red over there. Then green with a bit of red but only in one distinct streak, then another two reds and then back to green over here. ‘Green Monster’. The one we talked about before.

—–

“I’m not a monster, you know,” stated synchronized Gregg, sitting at the table opposite Mr. Babyface in their unfinished Middletown penthouse apartment. “I got’s real, true feelings. I like… Bailey’s in a shoe. I like watercolors. Watercolors of Bailey’s.” He pauses thoughtfully in his ranting. “I like you.”

“Oil me up, then.” Accompanied by a small buzzing sound, green Gregg Oden changes over to red Greg Ogden. Mr. Normal.

“Ah so.” But Mr. Babyface had been thinking lately that “normal” Greg(g) could do with a little more monster inside him. Might help their sex life. He dare not try all that out with the monster itself yet; not quite yet. Must keep using oil. No, he must think of other things now.

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Filed under *Second Life, Middletown SL^, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

Pog

There’s something different about Middletown today.

But it’s not quite ready to be shown yet.


“Under Construction”, photograph by Oak Groves, Middletown Municipal Museum

—–

“Ahh. This is the life. Eh Gregg?”

“I guess so.”

“Time to oil me up.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Middletown SL^, Upper Austra

Middletown SL

“I’ll, let’s see, have a tequila sunrise please.”

“For God’s sake, Greg,” spoke store owner Johnny Thor. “You know this isn’t a bar. I’ve told you a thousand times now, a *thousand* thousand times.”

“That’s ten thousand,” utters Greg Odgen nonsensically. “That’s ten thousand!”

“No. And no! So do you want some coffee? Maybe a comic book? Comic book character (figurine)? Comic book character outfit? ‘Cause I got plenty of those. Just sitting on the shelf, in the rack. Waiting to be sold.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” muttered Greg. He turns to his roommate seated in a booth behind him. “What’ll you have, Mr. Babyface?”

Mr. Babyface keeps tapping the table nervously for some reason, like maybe he’s typing on an imaginary keyboard. “Say they’re out of tequila?”

“Um, yeah, I think so.” Johnny emits a sigh.

“Then I’ll just take a beer. Any beer. You choose. Johnny… you choose.”

“That’s it,” spoke an exasperated Johnny. “I’m out of here — closing early. Everyone out. Restocking again.”

—–

“So — you wanna head to the beach next, Gregg?”

“Sure.”

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