Tag Archives: Mrs. M^^

June 4, 2023 · 7:53 am

ML Gazebo 91

A wall. Indicating my time in Constants may be limited, despite the name. And not a really pretty wall at that. But I, of course, have tricks to get around it.

There’s Falmouth Gallery! Is it so ugly that you have to hide? Moard (original creator) would not be proud. I think it’s bea-u-ti-ful.

After taking the picture, Mr. Z gets up from the chair and continues his journey intent on finding cousin Zimmy and his maw before sunset, er, sunrise if possible. Word.

—–

Truth of the matter exposed, he soon made his way into the center of Constantynople, unknowingly walking right by the stairs that would take him to his new apartment. And, perhaps more importantly, the new meeting place for the TILE study group. Had to happen.

“Hooray, he’s here!” cried the standing yellow porch ickle upon seeing him enter the square.

(to be continued)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0512, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West

Tagged as , , , , , ,

July 4, 2021 · 7:42 am

freedom

“Did you hear what that alien said right at the last, before she… changed over? She said, ‘the heel is under the water, the heel *is* the water.’ Right with her then solid mouth she did, way up there at the 7 1/2 foot level that soon became the 0 foot level. Or became the same as the foot.” He scratched his heel on his crossed leg reflexively here. “Something.”

“Why don’t you enjoy the fireworks, sonny, and stop thinking about that day, that moment. She did what she had to do to escape us and I applaud her for it. I wish *I* had the gall to change into something totally different like that. Remember, heh, remember when Uncle Stan’s rodeo money turned into dust and blew all away, perhaps to California or even beyond? That kind of change.”

“And now it’s happened again.”

A particularly bright sparkler burst above them. “Yup.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0305, Nautilus, NORTH, Upper Austra^

Tagged as , , , ,

July 3, 2021 · 6:36 am

all together now

As Leslie Darlene continued to struggle with the water break, Ruby stared over at the girl who was always with her now, her Little Bug as she said she wanted to be called. “Cards are next,” she called over, stacking the last one on top.

The water was up to her wrists above her feet now. Aliens can have very different anatomies despite some surface similarities. Like two hearts.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0303, Nautilus, NORTH, Upper Austra^

Tagged as , , , ,

July 3, 2021 · 6:36 am

opposite

Meanwhile, in a strong probable reality lying directly south of the 765 Village sim-wise:

“How — long are you going to — keep me here?”

“Well, darling,” dishwashing DON’T SAY WANDA Leslie replied back, up to her wrists in suds and grease, “that depends on what the appraiser comes back with. I’m guessing, gee I don’t know, about 195.3 lindens to the inch. And since you’re a tall one…

“It’s not — right.”

“I know it’s not right, dearest. It’s not right that we live in such *squalor* just because Uncle Stan rode that bright idea rodeo of his right down into the *ground*.” She poked her finger with a knife she was washing and uttered a “hell” here. Ruby caught the association.

“Stan — was bad?”

“Indeed he was, darling.” She looked over at the 8 foot tall, insect green alien, probably of a species they call the greys. Said she was looking for the fortress and she said, “hell, I got a fortress you can stay in,” and knocked her on the head. She woke up in the trailer. She’d been here ever since, although she was allowed to go outside and stare at all the strange graffiti on the high privacy walls surrounding the abode. This person was a renegade, perhaps from the law itself. She kept saying her no good son-in-law of a husband would be back any day now. A-ny day.

—–

“I’m home, Maw!” *GUSH*

“*Lordy*, JUST in time. Quick go get the pipe wrench from the outhouse! Mind your pretty green feet you little alien!”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0302, Nautilus, NORTH, Upper Austra^

Tagged as , , ,

November 5, 2020 · 7:14 pm

wedding 01

There he is, the poor bastard. Taking his troubles out by fishing at the canal and drinking that Bud beer he likes. But it’s my job as site manager of Moe’s to clean him up and get him ready for marriage. I don’t know why but it was in the job description: get Toothpick ready to marry his sister on Wednesday’s Thursday Friday’s Saturday Tuesday. Munday, in other words, the 6th and final day of the week. Marrying day. At St. Mary’s. Should have been the Temple (of TILE) but it is what it is. Carrcassonnee wasn’t ready; the boss couldn’t get Carr started, har. And so we are only left with 6 instead of 7, but still a Happy Day indeed, or it is suppose to be. By eliminating the 7th, we make sure the brother-sister thing is okay with the higher authorities, meaning God and his choirs of angels and demons alike.

—–

“Where’s Mr. Z?” he asked later at Moe’s where I helped him put on his suspenders one strap at a time.

“Traveling,” I answered. “Out on the continents gathering more masks.”

“Oh. Then I guess Maw won’t be showing up either.”

“No. I’m your best man now.” 2nd strap done. Now to commence with the snaggly tooth combing and Neptune demo hair brushing.

“I expect a postcard will do from them.”

“On with the show,” I say as I lead him to the sink behind the bar counter. “You still have your sister and that’s the important thing.”

“Really?” he declared. “After the wedding — will I really have a twin sister left either?”

I couldn’t answer that. It was up to the love birds and the alchemical gods to decide that. The marriage is what it is. He removes his toothpick and applies comb to teeth as I brush his hair with paste.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0703, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Marwood, Neptune, NWES Island^

Tagged as , , , , , ,

October 2, 2020 · 5:33 am

fireproof

He was laid down in a trench and then covered head to foote with mourning flowers but not the expensive Amazonia kind that would quickly burn up the family’s meager savings. Toothpick stood back after throwing down his own bluebell blooms, picked fresh from a Meat City field behind Francis’ club just this morning, maw beside him in her Sunday finest which was actually just her everyday rags, and her hopefully soon-to-be new roommate Mr. Z beside her, complete with his continental mask laden backpack which he took most everywhere for fear of theft in this here backwoods suburb. Elberta was absent since she wasn’t suppose to see the groom the week before the wedding; Toothpick borrowed her hat to give his now sister/soon wife a type of presence.

They took one last look at blossom bedecked Uncle Luther, killed by a flu-like disease just 2 days before yesterday’s tomorrow, a stark naked Luther not wearing any overalls for the 1st time since way back in ’76 when he inherited them from his recently deceased Cousin Ferdinand, dead from a fire in the old mansion that ended the rule of the 100. Poverty: the rule of the day ever since. Some named it the Curse of the Coveralls, another word for overalls back in the day and what Uncle L. called his own, but Toothpick might have just made that up after the fact, in his head; he had an imaginative brain, almost invisible to others, or he tends to hide it behind a perpetually straw embellished mouth that he also feels distracts from his damaged teeth as he whisks it about rapidly, creating a kind of blurring effect in that area.

It was time to leave the teeny tiny cemetery next to a corner of Marwood’s scaled down Eiffel Tower and let gravedigger Big Hand Eddie do his work. Goodbye Uncle Luther. But hellooo coveralls!

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0315, Marwood, Meat City, NWES Island^

Tagged as , , , ,

September 29, 2020 · 9:48 am

our thrilling story continues

“Oh you’re just a big chicken is all you are. Right Mr. Z?”

“Right Mrs. M.”

“Hey over there. Hey: look at me.”

Both stare at Toothpick almost surrounded by pecking hens.

“This *h’ain’t* an episode of ‘Happy Days'”, he spews over. “There h’ain’t no happy bluebird atop Blue Berry Hill finding his trill. Just ask Little Robert Plant Variant over in Nowtown. Or is it Zen City. *Anyway*…”

“Oh I don’t know what you go on about 1/2 the time, Toothpick. If only *Z* here would have been my real child instead of one from another mother, he he. How is your maw anyways, Mr. Z.?”

“She’s dead thank you.”

“That’s good. Good to be dead in this day and age. Toothpick over there wants to off himself again. If he wasn’t already dead. Right Toothpick?” his mother shouts over. How much more of this can he take. And his *best friend* from high school or thereabouts siding against him now. Must be all that worldly corruption seeping into his bones. He didn’t use to be this way when he was little, provincial Little Z. I remember him sleeping a lot — maybe that was why he wasn’t controversial back then.

“Wake up over there Toothpick and talk to us.” His maw was *so* tired of him dreaming away his life. She just wanted him to get married to Elberta and move the heck out of her trailer. Maybe Z could move in then. But she can’t go there quite yet. First get the young’n out then deal with a potential new lover.

(to be continued?)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0308, Meat City, NWES Island^

Tagged as , , ,