Tag Archives: Shelley Struthers^^+++

May 26, 2025 · 6:30 am

00470103

Going to see the New Island maker and hoping it’s not Mid Hazel again, SHIVERS. Despite the location names involved here (Hazel, Hazelhurst (Ruins)). I’m taking him up on his invitation cited above from “The New Island Relocation Guide,” found online for free!

Just over there in that house to the left, he said about this picture from the guide which I’ve somehow managed to get inside of, ha. He also indicated that the collection of structures to the right where the railroad leads is the village of Hazel. Definitely avoiding that; no use in taking any chances at this late stage (!).

—–

I notice the geraniums, I notice the succulents. This is definitely the right place. NERVOUS still.

Knock knock knock.

An older gentleman in a Hawaiian aloha shirt with paint stained hands soon opens the door. Relief, PHEW!

“Can I help you, Miss?”

Shelley wakes up before they can talk further. An explanation of what’s actually going on from the creator will have to wait until another night, another dream. Or maybe a series of dreams — that would be cool.

“Till then,” she can hear him say as he retreats back inside. A painting, she also picked up on. He’s working on a painting of….. this she couldn’t resolve.

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May 24, 2025 · 3:51 pm

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.

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April 6, 2025 · 3:58 pm

00460309

It was like the old days for Wolvie (=Bert), staring at bamboo from the perfect spot 108 108 108, triply beautiful. Not Shelley any more doing her moves on the bamboo yoga mat but Wheeler, mother having reabsorbed the child in section one of this here current photo-novel, just this morning named for her. He’d seen her again last week at the convenience store he manages over near Juho. She knew that he knew and he knew that she knew. Then: winked out. Gone. Like she was never there. And perhaps she wasn’t (*knew* I was going to add that, didn’t you).

—–

“Wolvie’s gone. VHS tape still in there. Let’s just look at it. I want to know why Blue Moon wants to buy all existing copies so bad. How, aherm, *bad* could it be?”

“Double anal?” guessed Emily who didn’t even know if that was a thing. And I suppose she’d know, since she runs the store. So let’s say she was jesting.

“Could be at least double, as in 3some,” speculated Charlene further. Charlene the Punk. Not seen in these here photo-novels since (as I’m checking… checking…) 31 really, minus a cameo appearance or two. Pre-retirement, then. But we also know that Charlene is actually Fern in the past. Or another timeline — something. The two can be lined up and made as one is what I’m saying. If that, once more, is actually a “thing”.

They both crowded into the tiny viewing room meant for one, setting aside the chair to make space. Plus… well, neither wanted to sit in that chair now.

“It’s just static,” Charlene complained.

“Keep looking,” urged Emily, knowing secondary and then primary letters would form out of the nothingness. Because this was a special tape, very much so. I to E to T to L and done. You get your money’s worth.

“Yes, here they come.”

(to be continued)

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March 20, 2025 · 2:47 pm

00460116

“Fog’s lifting a bit,” he offered in the silence, she trying still to figure out the fingering on the harp piece she wanted to play. And she didn’t want to seem like an amateur while warming up. Thus the quiet except for the nearby low roar of the backwards positioned waterfall. “Well?” he then said. “What are you, I mean, what are you and Newt going to do?” It was obvious to him that they should stay in the area, this Nawt Vaya inland sea of the Jeogeot continent in the world of Our Second Lyfe. *Their* Second Lyfe. Hopefully still.

“We’re meeting at the parrots today to talk about it. I’m just going to admit everything. You — not Art, because he doesn’t seem to be involved.”

“The hubby.” Ed liked Art but didn’t love Art. Good thing.

“Yeah, the true one, the Whitehead in Da Woods. I guess I should express remorse or something.”

“Naaah,” responded Ed.

“Thinking along the same lines,” she admitted. What they had was good. It was just something to pass the time, mostly the late afternoon of each of April May’s days. And she knew she was irrisistable, ha. Especially since she’s ditched the child part from top and bottom. Wheeler she is again, without trapped-in-the-past Shelley. She and Newt remain childless in this reality. The reality of Nawt Vaya. Almost time to make a decision on that.

—–

She gets her ass up from the writing desk and moves toward the door, relieved it remains unlocked as she nervously tests the knob. She is still free to leave this place.

(to be continued)

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March 7, 2025 · 3:54 pm

00460108 (319)

That’ll be 4 bucks please,” said ramen shop attendant Jacwylin, extending her hand with the bill for the bills. She was also the manager of this small cyperpunk type shop, if it wasn’t Tammy (pause). No, I checked. Tammy isn’t projected to be in this here photo-novel, 46 in a series. So this remains Jacwylin. “You know,” she begins again, name settled on and free to dwell in the past now, “Blue Moon Kentucky sat on that very seat, ordered that very meal. Blue like you too.” She scrutinized the face more closely. “Nah,” she begged off. “You’re not her.”

“Of course I’m not her,” said the blue clad woman back. Still working for the Horns, the big bosses, although the boss boss Edward was the only one still around. Who was now also her boyfriend. Luckily for her, he doesn’t have a cleanliness obsession. He doesn’t mind a little dirty. “But,” she reconsidered, “that’s an interesting story, worth a follow up statement.” There. I just did it. Would she get the joke?

“Ha ha,” she started after a significant enough pause. “Hu hu hu, good one.” She got it. “But, *anyway*, Blue Moon… do you like her music? Do you prefer the Cracks or do you prefer her solo work? Some do.” She withheld the “like me,” part. Wanted to get the other’s opinion first.

“I’ve heard of ‘Keep on Shining.'”

“Yes yes. Good one.” Maybe a solo lover. Like herself. She’ll keep patient.

“And, let’s see, the one about suicide is certainly interesting. Can’t recall the name of that.”

Jacwylin couldn’t either in the moment. Oh yes, she thought. “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — she couldn’t remember if the last name of the single started with an E or an I, our first mandela effect in this here post (pause). I checked to make sure and, yes, it is so. The name Tammy remains a mistake and not an alternate reality.

(to be continued)

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March 7, 2025 · 3:15 pm

00460107

“I see you kneeling behind that curtain in there,” expressed passing businesswoman Pamela Taut, no time for tomfoolery today. Zoom meeting with an important client at 3 about a property deflated in value because of a 1000 year flood. Must be sharp; she wants that sale! Then this. “I say: expose yourself you troublemaker, you… *tart*” Come out, come out!” She only thought of her own name’s similarity with this taunt later.  When she herself was playing a maid to a big wig male’s cleanliness obsession — for a sale again, of course. “Bathroom next,” he said, knowing it was a mess because of the chaos. “Now!” “Yes sir,” she jumped. But it was all fake, just role play. Same with the person behind the curtain. She’d been ordered to sit there by another. No difference really at all.

We’ve seen this person before. Many times. She tires of hiding, wants to come into the light. This is about as close as I dare, focus on the foreground in the shot below, on the face of conspiracy nut Wanda to be specific, still listening to the imaginary (imaginary?) chattering of the mechanical (mechanical?) fish behind the bar. She knows they’ll analyze everything later on. Her friend Jenny sitting across the booth here has started calling her Wanda Fish, another taunt. Where will it end?

Right here. (to be continued)

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March 2, 2025 · 2:45 pm

00460106 (Tin at ten)

“Shelley?” Wheeler started to answer Lexi’s question. “I don’t know. Wandered off into the prison surrounding us; lost in the maze that’s suppose to be a labyrinth, one way in and out. Time to make a switch; free myself from *that* kind of cage. Do you realize, Lexi, that she hasn’t changed her hair style since she was a kid? And those shoes. Kids as well. Keds!”

“I don’t care,” says Lexi back, stopped from dancing for a second. She’ll resume soon enough. “I love her still.”

“You can’t have her, Lexi. She’s… not in your league. She’s in the American, you’re in the National. If the Cincinnati Reds could play the New York Mets in the World Series then you might have a shot. But no sin in Cincinnati, if you catch my, um, lob. Out at home before the game even starts. Back in the pocket with the Bakers badge and all. You’re Mary Anne,” Wheeler summarized before her, still still. “Panama’s Ginger. But Shelley’s different — *I’m* different. And I set the rules. I’m tired of being the mother to a child that never grows up from top and bottom. You notice the change in *my* hair — I’m ready to dive back into the fire from the frying pan just above. Back to the dance. But first…

“… I have to let the butterflies free to do their work. Starting with the midriff, mind you. All Orange.”

Without further words, Lexi begins again.

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February 23, 2025 · 3:02 pm

00460104

“Moving to the water’s edge, I got my first good glimpse at Morro Rock out in the bay in, well, I can’t remember when. I’d heard it had been covered over with fill dirt in the meantime, yet here it was in all its shining glory illuminated in the morning sun. There’s the radio station of that name of course, but I thought that was a pun on the famous landmark and no more. Boy was I wrong.

“Later at the very center of my Wellsprings walk that day I also caught my first glimpse of 3 monks worshipping at a wall of bamboo and then went down to them.

“I climbed up those piled cement slabs in front of it and then sat down to get a better look.

“And that’s when I called you. Remember? ‘We have a match,’ I said. Over 2 years back I guess by now. ‘108 108 108,’ I recited, checking my coordinates in space and time. ‘108 108 108,’ the 3 monks now behind me repeated, each taking a turn. I pivot as they fade and wink out, one by one by one. 108 108 108. The same is happening now.”

—–

I later got a better view of that rock out in the bay 2 videos up in Lettuce Walk’s feed and 4 up from its beginning with the lighting strike (more soon). So it was real. I was truly on a path again. To find CENTER.

(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 6, 2025 · 9:32 am

00450610

Being a poor student at the local public university majoring in psychology, Peter Melanchton often came down here to the roadside ramen shop to get a free hot meal. But he had another reason to sit on this rock and eat his noodles: Shelley Johnston (Johnson?) Struthers, seen here running into that tunnel again. He often daydreamed that she was his girlfriend, and that they would run together through the whole of the Nawt Vaya inland sea, rain or shine.

Today Lexi joined him, and then, after Shelley passed into the tunnel, gave him a good lecture about stalking young girls even though she was actually doing the same here. Hypocrite, then: just wanting to eliminate the competition. Edward was enough. No need for another pretty faced *boy* to enter the picture.

Sufficiently spooked, Peter doubled down on his studies and eventually graduated Summa cum laude from Nawt Vaya State, which means peak of his class. Doing some modelling on the side sufficed to cover the cost of food and amenities after that, no need for free. Too tempting down on that rock overlooking the tunnel entrance. Didn’t want to get a reputation, maybe even attracting the attention of the local police force. All elements of Lexi’s lecture.

—–

Later, Lexi met Philip at the local Slurpies and started bragging about the deed. Philip checked in his red book and saw this had indeed happened but 2 weeks ago. Lexi must have skipped a chapter or two, he figured. He tells her she’s late and that she needs to recalibrate her internal clock. Just then the school bells rang (dong… dong!), signaling graduation of the 2024 class where Peter just gave his Summa cum laude speech. What is happening to time??

(to be continued)

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