Tag Archives: Philip StrevorGTAV^*++$

August 22, 2025 · 9:36 am

00470609

“It just BLEW UP. I was staring right at it. And it just POOOOOPH.”

“We could have been on that boat, Marion,” says Hucka. “We could have been blown up too!”

“Blown up *real* good,” added Philip from the couch.

Nada and Lexi walk in from the back. “We heard the explosion!” says Nada. “What happened?”

“Newt’s sim skipping ship blew up that’s what happened,” uttered Marion, still reeling from the shock. How are they going to get, well, to wherever they were going *now*?

“Good,” says Philip, producing stares from all.

“Newton’s probably *dead*, Philip,” says Marion. “Now no brothers in the Orange family are left. What of poor Mama Mitchell?”

“Welll, how old is she? Is she, you know, too old to have kids now? What, you know, I’m saying is that they can be replaced. Maybe.”

“NOT the point, Philip. A man is dead. His hard work has been destroyed too. We’ll never get another one like that.”

“You know,” said Hucka. “Philip might be right. Oh, not about Newton being dispensable of course but us leaving. Maybe it’s good we’re not able to leave now. Philip… you have your opium plants. And Marion, you have your pot field.”

“It’s *both* our field,” says Philip. “But… go on… *I’m* at least listening.”

“And what about Phil?” she says, confusing all.

“I’m right here.”

“No not you Phil-IP. Phil. With no -ip at the end. Down at the Rhino. We’re suppose to talk to him. Maybe he can’t be communicated with at any other location.”

“Possibly,” allows Marion, also wondering about all the aspects of “we” she mentioned.

“Hey Marion,” asks Philip out of left field, suddenly remembering a glimmer of something else in all the excitement. “Whatever happened to that girl we were with? You know, the shape shifter. Helen I believe. Hermania.”

“Heidi,” spoke Marion from the window. “Heidi Hunt Ives.” Every Blue Moon Philip brings her up. And then promptly forgets again.

“Yeah… her.”

Marion didn’t answer because he knew she was at the bottom of a sea too, just like Newton’s sunken vessel out there. Our stolen “Little Bug.” Tears come to his eyes as he watches the still lingering smoke from the explosion drift around the bay. He tried to save her, he really did. He rationalizes he did the best he could… working by himself. If only Philip could have helped.


“I’m coming Little Bug!” **leap**

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August 18, 2025 · 9:02 pm

00470607

“You don’t understand, Philip,” spoke Marion Star Harding, perhaps his only friend in the world if you don’t count new-ish girlfriend Nada — *maybe* on that one, along with the whole girlfriend aspect actually. Maybe they’re just quote unquote friends too. “We have a chance to escape,” his friend here says, his partner in crime perhaps not presently but certainly in the past. “Turns out Newton knows a lot more than his brother Stewart about sim jumping and maintaining a ship to do such. I miss Stewart mind you but maybe it was all for the best that water—” Marion stopped here, realized he was being very insensitive in the moment. The death by unexpected and unpredictable sea funnel came only 2 weeks ago, suck suck GONE. “Anyway — Philip — what you say? I’ll bring Hucka Doobie obviously — we’re totally solid now in our relationship and I’m sure that she’d go where I go. And Nada — maybe the same? There’s room on the ship for her anyway.”

“She has a new *girlfriend*,” he spat out from the couch. “Iiii don’t think she’ll want to be going *anywhere*, not with *Lexi* around.”

“Now now, Philip,” said Marion turning toward him from the window and breaking off his loving gaze at Newton’s revamped beauty floating out there in the bay. “I’m sure they’re just friend friends.” Maybe like you and Nada, he thought, but kept to himself. “Anyway, she — Lexi — can go too. There’s room for 7 total people, Newton indicated to me just yesterday, an upgrade from 5 for the old version. Let’s see, that’s Newton the skipper, me, you, Hucka, Nada, and, yeah, there’s definitely room for Lexi. And even one more. Maybe that Greg artist fellow we chat with occasionally around town. He seems to be as eager to leave this cursed place as we are.”

“*You* are,” said Philip, not so sure about these big, new plans of Marion’s. He’d like to have the relationship more resolved with Nada before he commits to such a thing. Plus he has his pot field in back of Doug’s Money Laundering Mat. And his pots of opium plants atop the Nimble Thimble dance club. He can’t take all *that* with him.

“We’ll get you some more pot fields, some more opium plants,” Marion said to this when he raised his concerns. “We’ll make sure we go to — or settle down in — a place where all that is still legal.”

“*Here*,” Philip declares, putting his foot down in the place he’s suddenly decided to stay.

“Talk to Nada,” urges Marion. “*Then* make a decision.” I’ll talk to Greg myself, he also decides on his own. No use to bring Philip’s negativity along for that one.

(to be continued)

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August 17, 2025 · 10:34 pm

00470606

I wonder what Nada is doing back so early? thought observing Greg Odgen from his studio apartment, an extension of his STAB gallery introduced toward the end of (photo-)novel 45. And who is her friend? he continues his pondering. Has she, um, switched over to women? Maybe she’s tired of dicks, or at least that one dick that calls himself Philip Strevor, ha. Oh, she sees me. She’s waving. Good ol’ Nada. She deserves better, yes.

“Right through here, Lexi,” she says after returning her arm to her side. “I think you’ll be quite pleased with it.”

When she walks up the stairs and through the purple glass beads that match the color of the couch she’s interested in, she finds herself in a different world, just like fellow Gaston visitor Osborne Well before her back in section 04. Now to get to the bottom of this. About 10 posts or so to go! Should still be on target to finish the thing around the end of August.

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April 28, 2025 · 7:59 am

00460415 (The River Styx?)

Rockstahr, Philip thinks while staring at the red green blue yellow lines again. Gotta find the origin. Who is this madman behind it all? Across the water?

“Whaddaya think, Frank?” he said after the story was over, still staring across the Nawt Vaya waters that had replaced the Alamo Sea waters in their now smaller, less broad virtual existences. “Little Heaven? Little Hell?”

“Might be,” he said, reminiscing in his own way about Redd. And that darn cat of a man she spoke about. She/he knew so much!

(to be continued)

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April 2, 2025 · 9:53 pm

00460305

“He was just standing there when I looked down from the bird. You know, after the plane.”

“Then what?” Philip was into Frank’s story. For a change.

“Just for a second he was there. Looked like, I don’t know, *Superman*. All jacked up like a superhero, you see.”

“Like Impotent Rage?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Like Impotent Rage.”

“*Love* Impotent Rage. That’s where I hid my drugs!”

Took Frank a second to get it, then he remembered the figurine in Philip’s trailer with the hollowed out core and pop top head. *Old* trailer. “Oh yeah. Anyway, thought you’d want to know, since, you know, you saw the plane shadows that couldn’t be there too.”

“I *did*,” said Philip without a doubt. “I did indeed. Grapeshot.”

“Grape*seed*,” said Frank.

“Noooo. Grape*shot*. *Franklin*.” Philip liked to call Frank Lynn by his old name when he failed to properly translate anything to this new format they now live in, GTA V imprisoned characters no more. They were free. Thanks to the power of the Alamo. “Remember the Alamo,” Philip would also say to jolt Frank back to the current (virtual) reality. “Remember it and then forget it because we’re in a different place now,” he might follow up, “one that doesn’t stink like *rotting fish*, PHEH.”

Alamo inland sea of GTA V fully transferred over to Nawt Vaya inland sea of Our Second Lyfe. Like Philip before him, Frank was totally on board with it. After all, they always had the dreams and reminiscings to return if needed. Like now.

“Anyway,” Frank continued in that vein, “he was standing at the start of that jutting out place, you know, the, oh what do you call it? Not peninsula.”

“Pier?” Philip offered, trying to help the story along.

“No dawg, nothing wood or anything. A *jetty* — yeah, that’s it. A narrow piece of land jutting into the water in a straight line.

“Or crooked line,” Philip said, thinking of something called the Spiral Jetty. He can’t recall where.

“Okay, so, you know, the Superman person was gone — only appeared a split second like I said…”

“Yeah?” Philip said, egging him on again.

“But when I was walking down that, er, jetty, in a straight line, I also knew he was *pointing* toward something. Something on the other side of the lake as it turned out.”

“Sea,” corrected Philip once more. “Alamo Sea.”

“Yeah, Alamo Sea, then. So I stood near the end of the point, looked across the lake — sea, sorry. There was a boat parked near the tip, but that wasn’t it. Then I heard it. Little Hell, Philip. Place called Little Hell.”

Philip had heard of the location but had also heard it called Heaven and said so. Out of their dreams and back into the present, both looked across the moonlit Nawt Vaya waters and wondered what *that* meant. Little Hell and Heaven both.

(to be continued)

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April 1, 2025 · 3:01 pm

00460304

“Isn’t this a beautiful view of the harbour, Newt? Just lovely.”

“Well,” opined her opposite eating ice cream partner at the stand. “They could have done a better job with the line there dividing the 2 sides of the texture. Makes it obviously unreal. And the blurring–”

“Blurring only makes it more romantic,” quickly countered Wheeler. “This skyline could be any city in the world you want it to be, any virtual burg for that matter. It could be Sydney to me, Melbourne to you. Our choice. Just pick the most romantic city you know and you’re sitting across from it, eating strawberry or vanilla ice cream, also your choice. You like vanilla, I don’t.”

“We better start talking about Nawt Vaya,” said Newt, tired of meaningless chatter. “Why we came here. To this *rendezvous*,” he couldn’t help tack on again. Next time, he promised himself. Gowns and formal attire.

“Okay.” She finished the last 1 1/2 scoops of strawberry in one huge gulp just to try to speed things up and maybe add a little comedy to the matter, then continued to talk with mouth open and muffled voice. “Ow, fthatt *hurfts*.”

“What do you expect, Wheeler?” he said, watching her now deal with brain freeze. He decides to start while she heals. “Let’s take account of the residents of our fair land there in the center of Nawt Vaya. First off, there’s me and you obviously, then Lexi and Philip over in her house on the south edge of the property, then Fink is around too, then Jack is not far away as well — Jack Dogg, I’m obviously talking about here and not any of the other Jacks we’re attached to now. And then Barry De Boy and Wendy are up in that cottage perched above my own home of Newtonia. Do you like that name, Wheeler? Newtonia? Are you able to properly speak yet?”

“Mmmmm. MmmMMMMMMmm.”

“Obviously not. I’ll continue, then. Then there’s Veyot up on the hill, Pearl just up the coast a bit. Then in Juho we have Greg Ogden who’s also an artist — runs STAB now — and then I believe Nada New Year is there too, and also Carolin. And, let’s see, Peter Melanchton–”

“Gone,” Wheeler managed, ice cream headache finally subsiding.

“Right. And then the girl who’s suppose to take his place as summa cum laude graduate of Nawt Vaya State University and her, er, boyfriend I guess we’ll call him. And then Edward is still around.”

“Backwards positioned waterfall,” Wheeler identified his location. “You’re okay with that? Aren’t you?”

“Ahh, *sure*.” He was 1/2 and 1/2 on the issue but he really didn’t have any choice. Unless he did. He’s trying. Date first, then other things. Has to start with a proper date, which apparently this wasn’t. He tries to focus on the census again and away from the Wheeler+Edward continuing issue. “And then Princess Pinky Gumm.”

“She doesn’t count.”

“Oh…. right.” Newt remembers that Wheeler is playing that role, actually. “And… I can’t think of anyone else. Can you?”

“OH. I saw… I saw *Frank*! I totally forgot to tell you.”

“Frank?”

“Yeah. *Frank*. In Juho. At the barber shop when I was getting my hair cut the other day. I was getting the Butterfly No. 25 while he just sat there getting nothing, no styling no treatment, no anything. *Frank*,” she emphasized.

“Frank *who*?” Newt had to question. There were a couple, including a bunny man who hadn’t figured into the plot of these here photo-novels since the middle of the last. But it turned out to be Frank Lynn of GTAV fame.

“And Sep Felton was there too,” said Wheeler. “You know Sep. Butterflies again. Over on Corsica. She’s a stylist in both places. I didn’t even ask her how that worked, dufus that I am. I was *so* focused on getting it all chopped off, letting my scalp breathe again as Winter turns into Spring. I want the Butterfly, I said excitedly almost when I came in the shop. I didn’t realize the synchronicity.”

“You should always be paying attention to synchronicity. Why we’re here,” summarized Newt.

“I know, I know.”

“So… let’s start exploring and we can talk more.”

“My line!”

Someone in desperate need of a haircut himself, or herself, came walking into the picture. It, we’ll call them to remain gender neutral.

(to be continued)

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March 17, 2025 · 6:39 am

00460113 (letting the butterflies loose)

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/07/30/00340113/

—–

“Soo, why are we back here again, Jack? Pink again?”

“Yeah,” responds Jack the Dogg, his 1/2 brother and also bestest friend in the world. Unless it’s Todd. “And you know what that means?”

“Errr,” went Fink, once more sloow to catch on.

—–

15 minutes later, after earning another F- on the new quiz.

“I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy!”

You certainly aren’t, thinks the newest iteration of Princess Pinky Gumm in Our Second Lyfe dominating above him but, of course, biting her tongue. Fink remains a powerful ally. And friend.

Now to deal with Art and Ed, she thinks; break the bad news to the duo so use to having their way up to this point. The buck stops here.

She looks to the sky and thinks of all the power she has. 319.

(to be continued)

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February 11, 2025 · 8:15 am

00450702

Don’t get me wrong. Lexi and he were still pals. Here we see them staring out from her many windowed house after breakfast one morning toward the long if not especially wide expanse of Nawt Vaya, Jeogeot’s largest inland sea and probably the only inland body of water of that virtual continent to qualify as such. And there’s some heated debate in certain Juho social circles even over that, which we’ll get to later. Or not. Not Vaya? Variant name for sure, sea or no. Along with Alamo, which is of particular relevance to Philip’s case. Here’s the actual, Real Life source:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nawt_Vaya,_Arizona

Nawt Vaya is a populated place situated on the Tohono O’odham Nation in Pima County, Arizona, United States.[2] Historically, it has also been known as Agua Lavaria, Agua la Vara, Agua la Varia, Alamo, and Not Vaya, before Nawt Vaya became the official name following a decision by the Board on Geographic Names in 1941. The name means pampas grass well in the O’odham language.

And it’s pretty near the only US population place with a primary or variant name starting with Jeo like the continent, reinforcing the relationship.

Anyway, Philip is still testing out the 3 candidates Wheeler provided for a potential girlfriend as reward for delivering Gus to her, even though he’s leaning heavily toward Nada New Year, seen in the above photo also leaning heavily on him. Lexi sitting on the floor beside them was just glad they were past the constant kissing phase of their relationship. Andie and Sally waited patiently at the table behind them like the 3d dummies they are — just in case. Philip was instead in questioning mode. He never asked Nada — or the others — as if she/they had only one purpose in his life and that alone. It was always Lexi. Another reason he probably kept hanging around, she rationalized. But she really didn’t mind. The girls were pretty and also pretty interesting to speak to. At least Nada. Being a native of the land, she helped fill in Lexi’s gaps of local knowledge. What a sweetheart! If Philip wasn’t around… but she can’t think of that now. Wheeler (and Shelley!) would be so upset!

“Who owns that lighthouse over there, Lexi?” he started, which she knew would lead to more.

“Oh, I don’t know. Just met them once. Darkstar I believe is the name.”

“Cool. Who owns that house with the palm tree just in front of us, then?”

“I don’t know, Philip. They’re just some neighbors. I’ve only seen them from a distance ho-ing in their garden,” which made Lexi wonder again if prostitution was actually legal in this region of Our Second Lyfe.

“Nice. When is Wheeler’s Starbuccaneers gonna open over there to our right, Lexi? Do you know? Huh?” He turns his head toward her. “HUH?”

“*Philip*…” But then she stifled the urge to tell him to be quiet for a while. Because that might mean the kissing resumes. And she’d rather hear his questions than all those smooching sounds. “Starbuccaneers, eh?” she considers. “I’ve heard…” Nada flashes a peace sign in her direction; thanks Nada! “… in about 2 days.” Nada then makes a widening motion with two hands this time behind his head. “Oh, did I say days? I meant weeks.” Thumbs up sign from Nada.

“Nifty. And, let’s see, those people on that grassy field yonder. Who are they? What are they doing?”

Lexi could actually field this field question on her own, which took her back to shortstop days with the local Horners Corners High Jills, no error between her legs at the time. “That’s Greg. As in Greg Ogden. And that’s his models he’s painting for his new and improved Juho studio.” She knew all this from Wheeler. It was kind of the talk of town in certain social circles (or not). Former model Peter Melanchton had graduated Summa cum laude from Nawt Vaya State and moved away. He needed new blood to fill his shoes. That image was actually in the ad he made, which he hoped would seem artistically trendy to a model wannabe.

And, as the ad stated, he was aiming for girls this time — an upgrade. Just like Philip, he had several candidates lined up. Although he was heavily leaning toward the non-red of the group who had just walked into the picture below, as he hoped she would be doing soon on him. Parallel lives.

However, the woman turned out to only be Peter Melanchton’s sister, there to retrieve a leather jacket he left behind. Redd it is.

(to be continued)

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February 10, 2025 · 9:41 pm

00450701 (a new high and low of it all 03)

“My friend Bart got tired of standing so I took over,” Billy Clockwork explained about his presence at the lemonade stand instead of the boy Newt encountered before here. “Seat’s broke, you see,” he said, indicating the fold out chair beside him. “Go ahead. Try it out if you don’t believe me.” So he did.

Next thing he knew he was in a room of unknown location, fire burning brightly in the hearth beside him. “Hi,” it said in a flamey voice, fittingly enough, low but rich with energy. “I guess you’re wondering what just happened.”

—–

Meanwhile, below, further below than you might think, Wheeler sits beside the other fire of the castle, the one just delivered by Philip The Other who was promptly rewarded with a nice, tall glass of lemonade freshly squeezed from a Juho citrus tree, along with his choice of a new girlfriend, 3 willing candidates in attendance.

I believe he might have his eye more on Nada New Year across from him than the other 2, which is a good choice considering she’s actually another avatar and not just a 3d dummy unable to respond to his many emotional needs. Yes, he has needs, and current roommate Lexi is not the one to meet the most important of them, which, of course, Wheeler understands. Being that she’s also (Lexi’s current love interest) Shelley.

(to be continued)

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February 8, 2025 · 9:11 am

00450615

He finds himself going backwards, back into Vijlin and reversing from the plane that couldn’t be there, fire still on shoulder…

… but not for too much longer, as he deposits it back on the ground in Echt. Shoulder cool, shoulder cool! Thank the Gods.

Distraction absent, he realized he’d missed something. Not silver (car)…

… not copper.

At Wessem, he hops back into the canal looking for the missing thing, heading for that Ell Bridge separating 8 and 9, he knew. Rail accident; something amiss.  Soon enough he was there, and leapt back up on the bridge with a reverse splooshing sound and out of the canal, back to the rail where he observed it from above, heading southeast to the corner of The Netherlands. A place he’d never reach now. No burn, no burn!

He quickly turns to find the gold car. Waiting.

Backwards talk from the car but he knew what was going on now, and that he had about 10 seconds before it reversed itself off the bridge, back back back to Amsterdam or thereabouts where it came from. Gold found, gold found! he cried within. And jumped in. Time suddenly started to move forward again, Mikie greeting him with the words: “Excellent choice, Philip. Now we can go home.”

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