Tag Archives: Shelley Struthers^^++

March 4, 2026 · 7:05 am

00490509 (Violet)

She got tired of waiting for her alternate self to grow up — understandably, because it could take *decades*. She decides to do some investigating on her own about the subject. Shamon. From the inn. Place of thorns. Not much of an inn aspect left to the place — no beds as far as she could tell. More a museum for the lower floors, she supposed. And then she found the letter in the middle of an antique book just chosen at random from a first floor bookcase. Hmm, she thought, separating the 2 pieces of paper from each other and laying them side by side. What’s this? She started reading. Plain it was at first to her. Mundane, run of the mill, no special qualities at all. A journal entry by someone named June about a trip across the western part of our US of A. Then she read it again. And again. And again, starting to put the 2 sides together to make 1; actually, let’s make that she simply eliminated the second to make one. Here’s what she had left…

Dear Dairy,

We’re finally in Missouri! Almost home! Bryan was so exhausted with today’s drive that we decided to have a sleepover at a cheap motel off Route 66. Madry Wise it’s called and the owners Martha and Theodore are just adorable! They welcomed us with open arms and invited us for dinner so we can share our Route 66 road trip experience with them. Bryan is just having a little nap and we’ll go once he wakes up.

I can’t believe how lucky I am. It’s been the best summer ever!!! Two weeks ago we started the journey from Santa Monica, CA and went through several states through Barstow, Kingman, Sedona, Winslow, Monument Valley, Durango, Santa Fe, Albuquerque, Roswell, Amarillo, Oklahoma City until now Missouri.

So that’s all of page 1. She checked all the mentioned locations from its last sentence on a map. Santa Monica, Barstow, Kingman, Sedona, Winslow: yes, everything to this point was on Route 66 or, in Sedona’s case, quite close, only about 25 miles away. But June and her boyfriend Bryan start to veer away from that famous highway after Winslow AZ and only clearly pick it up again at Amarillo TX. In other words, June may not have even used 66 through the whole of New Mexico, going from Durango CO down to Santa Fe then Albuquerque then Roswell to its south before heading back up to Texas. *Crossing* 66 in Albuquerque but not necessarily travelling along it. While pondering this, Shelley Johnston Struthers realized, if so, that another motel might have been visited on the journey between Albuquerque and Roswell. Was this what was being implied all along?? Fictional Madry Wise Motel actually standing in for the most haunted hotel in America?

They should have never left some of the swastikas on the building because photos can be flipped and time reversed along with it. 1923: not that far away, then, not far atall.

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March 3, 2026 · 7:25 am

00490507

Gorillaz, working as a team, a true 4n1 or TILE, are able to defeat the giant malignant worm thingies and move on to the next phase of their musical career, 8 I believe. Or is it 5?

Anyhow, the Spirit House here cannot stand up to their combined red yellow green blue powers and breaks apart and sinks into the earth where it came from; Hell, I suppose.

So what does this have to do with *Chet’s* band Scissorrun©, back in Rodentia on the continent of Jeogeot in the metaverse of Our Second Lyfe, or at least My Second Lyfe? Let’s move barside again at Walk By Night, focus in on the faces of the people sitting there this time listening to the band: manager Biff Carter and — let’s go with Jennifer Lane, all grown up from Jenny Lane like a forgotten, weedy road off the main beat. Like I said before, at this stage there’s only Chet on lead guitar and vocals and Karl on drums and backing vocals. No bass, which Karl will fill in later. Biff has made a decision about hiring another band member, the 3rd. New lead vocals allowing Chet to focus on his guitar. Or at least that’s how they broke it to Chet. In truth — as I also reviewed a bit before — his screechy voice leaves something to be desired for commercially minded Biff (raven-like he put it before). And he convinced Karl that they couldn’t scale to the top of the rock heap as they desired unless some changes occurred in that area.

“Let’s list out the Scissorrun©-Gorillaz comparisons as they stand now,” he says to Jennifer, trying to put everything in 1-2-3-4 order while checking his notes in the red book he always carries around these days. “Chet equals Murdoc, but lead guitar instead of bass. Karl equals Russel, but eventually moves to bass instead of drums. You are 2-D, a new sweet lead vocalist but with a change of sex — and also you have to age to where you are, ahem, *now*. And then, um, Noodle.” Biff is suddenly stymied. Noodle maybe should be the new drummer to replace Karl? But what about little Sherwood who, like Shelley, also has some serious growing up to do before assuming that role?? Things still need to be worked out before moving into *their* next phase, 1 I believe. Only the beginning.

“Look over here,” Shelley says to Biff to end. “Look into my eyes.” Library in there, he sees. All the news of the world. TBC

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February 23, 2026 · 6:34 pm

00490413

It was now time to see the band in action. In this early stage, Karl was on drums, not younger brother Sherwood who was still quite too little to play, although his talented hands could already snatch flies out of mid-air circling around his crib without fail (but, bigger question perhaps, *why* were they circling there, ho?). No bass guitarist in the band, then; Karl would serve that function in the future. Only him and then Chet on lead guitar and vocals, with Karl supplying backing vocals when needed. I’m debating whether to say that Chet, like his pretty much double Murdoc from Gorillaz — unplanned most of these parallels between the two fake bands are once more — gave up his role as lead singer to another, for Murdoc’s case this being the also red masked crooner known as 2-D seen in that last post of this here current photo-novel. Hmm. He doesn’t sound *bad* as I sit there at the bar, listening with restaurant manager turned band manager Biff Carter, last seen in Tonsiltown I believe. Or thereabouts. But he also certainly doesn’t sound “good” as in a traditional way of singing, even for rock stars. More commercially minded Biff was thinking along the same lines because he said over to me about a minute into “Paper” (their original single and perhaps their best still), “kind of sounds like a raven in heat, doesn’t he?” and then he laughed but also he was kind of crying a bit too. Because he knew he would have to go back to the dirty 1 dining room/10 x 10 foot cooking area/small shared sex bathroom with no sink restaurant on the edge of town if this whole band thing didn’t pan out. Yeah, he was mulling it over I could tell. No harm done in *auditioning* singers, he may have been thinking here. As long as Chet doesn’t know. Karl? Maybe he should let him in on it too? Karl surely doesn’t thinking Chet is the best of the best in terms of vocals, knows they can’t scale to the top like they desire with him as frontman.

Meanwhile, Jenny Lane sings solo down at the Mago docks as Charles Anson looks on. He’s cooking up a plan, evil of course as is his base nature. Is this the girl? he asked himself after the singing came within earshot as he kept wandering around town, looking for… something. Had he found the one in his dreams at last, a siren’s call across a chasm separating good and bad like Tennessee from Kentucky? He had to find out.

Anson, he thinks while the high pitched, golden throated warbling continues. The child’s name will be Anson too. Now to get to work on that time machine. (TBC)

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February 21, 2026 · 7:49 am

00490410

“For Scissorrun©? It all started right here, in Rodentia.

“Walk By Night.”

“Cool. I remember walking by there at night, wondering how a place that small could have a band that large. I recall.”

“Many a night I sat here at the bar, staring at that upside down cross, and asking, ‘why why why?'”

“Because of the band being too big for such a small place thing,” I said.

“Upside down from what I anticipated, yeah. I wondered why Satan and his 666 powers had let me down so much. After all, there was the whole selling of the soul to him.”

So that’s in this story as well, I think. But I knew there was more.

“To cover up the cracks that were forming all over the place in Our Second Lyfe,” he went on. “To make it… perpetual.”

Oh, so there’s that too, I think

“Have you been around back? Have you seen the graffiti, the picture, round back of the place? Yeah, you’d think: *You* did that. To make your story come more in line with that of Gorillaz. But, no, it was there in the first place. Along with this upside down cross. This is the place.” TBC

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February 20, 2026 · 9:15 am

00490409 (Sparks)

Wilson’s

Devil’s Hole Vortex

Gorillaz

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December 2, 2025 · 3:31 pm

00480612

Citrus fruit loving Philip was pleased the lemonade stand was still there on Infinity Lane but had no time today to stop. Must hurry! “Sorry, Bart!” he calls over while sprinting by. “Maybe next time!” he shouts back, already a blur in the distance to the boy colored the same as the product he sells and who still couldn’t sit while he works because of the broken chair that came with the stand. Where’s tireless former robot co-worker Billy Clockwork when you need him? he always frets around the 4 hour mark on any full shift these days. But it was off to the big city for him when he graduated local Nawt Vaya State University with a degree in economic ergonomics, a bunch of real life experience piled up by working with Bartholomew before, between and after classes. He’d learned a lot in both, enough to get him a 6 figure salary right off the bat. We probably don’t have time or space to get into his story in this here photo-novel, rapidly coming to a close (I hope!), but I believe he lives up in the middle of the Nautilus continent. Or was that Nautilus Island? Anyway, back to Philip. With all that writing I just did he’s now had enough time in space to make his way up to Sep Felton’s haircutting establishment more in the northern part of Juho city. He stops at the door, bent over because of lack of oxygen and unable to speak at first, then straightens up and manages: “Nada New Year? (pant pant) Know? (pant) anything about? (pant pant pant) her?”

“Whereabouts?” Sep completes Philip’s assumed sentence. “Here,” and she pivots the barbershop chair she stands behind 90 degrees to reveal the worst for Philip. “Pink? PINK?” But then he realizes he must back pedal the insensitive utterance. Fast! “LOVE IT!”

“*Wait,” mischievously smiling Sep says playfully. “My mistake. This is *Lexi*. Nada is over *there*.” And an at first relieved Philip stares into the darkened corner of the stylist shop she indicated only to see… but just then my computer crashes ARRRRGH. (TBC?)

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October 20, 2025 · 2:06 pm

00480401

She was at 90 degrees again but at least she was in the right time this place and not 3 years in the past. She’d caught up with him: Dr. Tom.

He was watching one of his patients dance, inappropriately enough, ‘nuf said about that. We’ve visited this location before. The land of the purple cubes, purple in general. Couches and all. ‘Nother one. This is the touristy part; we probably don’t want to know what goes on in other areas. A captured pawn (one (Alpha)) falls off the table between chess playing Fisher and Rigg. Oregon.

And we have a name, thanks to Delaware: Little Hell. Yes, Dr. Tom fits right in. (TBC)

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October 1, 2025 · 5:24 am

00480213

“Spongebub, what did I tell you about playing around with Weegee. *Now* look what’s happened!”

“But Squibward!” pleaded up his yellow, square Bikini Rump neighbor whose pineapple shaped home had just been destroyed by its giant nose. “We were boorrrrrrrrrrrr–

—–

–rded its ship and set sail for the sky.

—–

“What’s it spelling out now, Shelley? I mean… Lexi?”

“I think it wants us to stop.” STOP

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September 27, 2025 · 7:55 am

00480210 (dressed)

“I *can’t* believe I *found* you.” He was talking about the cans but also the girl. One and the same.

You didn’t, she thinks. Then rotates 90 degrees in 3 years and changes, DEMON forehead exposed for all to see from this angle.

“At least you got us a *real* soda this time to begin,” spat out his girlfriend-not-wife, once the love of his life but now fading in the distance. Only the littlest fox unites them still. Their son daughter.

(to be continued)

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September 7, 2025 · 6:54 am

00480107 (front, and back too)

“I got my first full blown color tattoos right here in [Dokken Hollow]. Eddy, my Edward, was also my tattoo artist of choice. In that way and more. Butterflies,” she elaborated. “Red green blue, like the primary colors.”

“Of light,” I tried to pinpoint. “Not the Earthy pigment kind.”

“That’s correct. Combined to make purest white. That’s the navel. But there was also yellow; the gold chain that came later was predicted. This represents, you could put it, my connection with the Mother Sphere — Earth as you say. I am from this Earth and to the Earth I will return. The body is temporary.”

“Of course,” is all I could think to say here.

“Eddy — my Edward again — said the butterflies are the fish released at the core center. They work my way up one leg to here. He said the fish should not continue, poopooing the idea I came in there with. He said fish should be paired or countered with birds — can’t remember which one he said now. But I do remember the ‘aha!’ and the sticking up of the index finger in the air to also indicate he had a brilliant idea. Come to think of it, the yellow was already there too. He said he needed to release the Earth. You are from the Mother, he said. But you are not *of* the Mother. You are your own self, (in) your own sphere. Butterflies should do the trick, he said. Birds would be too busy, he went on. Butterflies are simple — pure flight indicated. Less Earth. Yes, he said, let’s look at some patterns and I can have the whole thing done in an hour, 2 hours tops. And so that’s how I met Eddy.”

“You mentioned several tattoos. Several full blown color tattoos.”

“Two, yeah, I flipped over after that and he did the back as well. A tree, but with the same colors, mix in a dash of orange this time, a dab of purple. I basically had to take my tank top off. And that’s how it all got started. I have no excuses. I’m just telling you the way it went down. At last.”

“Amen to that,” I say.

[delete 3 exchanges]

“Afterwards, he said he was closing at 5 because the band would be starting soon and he can’t take the noise. He pointed backwards, to the wall; toward the Bang Bang (Bar). I lose some business that way, I also remember him saying. Drunks coming in here from the bar, wanting to mark up their body in some way, in some fashion, often to keep up with the Tom, Dick, and Harrys of the world. Or compensation. OR — Tomasina, um, let’s see, Diedra I guess, and then Harriets to end all that (laugh).”

“Of course,” I say again. “Female to male.” I wondered if the mention of Tom was accidental but that’s just how my mind works these days.

(to be continued)

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