Tag Archives: SHITE

May 18, 2025 · 1:32 pm

00460610 (deja vu)

She smelled him before she heard him and she heard him before she saw him. Like a dog, yech! Might as well be shite. Bury it like a bad dinner and put a little tombstone on it and call it such. But… she’d seen him before, she’d *been* here before.

This cat who didn’t quite measure up as a person named Guyd.

Long time acquaintance and good enough friend Rebl, although eligible to go in the Mother Ship with the rest, decided to stay behind in the caves as well and matched her eyes accordingly, red and blue to Guyd’s green and yellow. Like Kansas City and St. Louie, like Cleveland and Cincinnatus from yet another state, they became a team major and not minor in nature, a force to be reckoned with. A perfect TILE is another way to put it. Plus, Rebl wanted to stay close to Big Ass Franz down at the bar below them, although she hid this fact from her cat companion. They still formed a pipeline of information.

(to be continued)

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March 14, 2023 · 3:40 pm

alchemical research

Keith let me borrow his beach bungalow while he was out traveling (he said). I caught up with my reading more than my TV watching, since his set was shite — something out of the 50s, or 60s at best. Black and white, even. I could watch reruns of “I Luv Lucifer” or “Gulliver’s Island” (at best), or finish off my stack of romance novels with Satan sometimes at the center of the plotline. Here I am seen choosing the latter; self portrait of course, because I came alone, Lemont still looking for roles on the Omega continent Shakespearian in scope and depth. Good luck! I’ve even started my own novel, or I should say, my 5th novel, the other 4 already published under a pen name by Lonelyhearts Press up in Corsica Prime. I haven’t quite got up the nerve to tell my rather straight laced hubbie about those; kind of r rated and with lots of lovers on the side. This one is projected to start with an innocent enough letter from an imaginary boyfriend and perhaps wannabe husband. ‘Nother one. What is this attraction to the opposite sex I have? Or, better, their attraction to me? I have a Venus in Cancer and a Mars in Leo but that only answers part of it. I must protect myself — that’s what Keith said just before he handed over the keys to the place. “Find yourself here,” he said, boat already warming up at the dock. “Get away from all influences. I’ll give you some spending money.”

“I don’t *need* any spending money,” I protested. “It’s not like Lemont and I have gotten a divorce or anything.”

“Sure you haven’t,” Keith said, and patted my knee, making me wonder. When *is* Lemont coming back? “Edward is right next door if you need anything,” he added while walking off and leaving a couple of hundreds on the table up front. And that’s how we met. He really liked the letter; said it sounded exactly like something he’d penned. I was so pleased that… well, I’ll save it for later in the novel.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0304, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West

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September 29, 2021 · 5:35 am

brown bombshell

Back down at her lake house, cat-girl Coffee phones up Zach to spill the beans.

“Hello sweetness, have you heard the *latest*?”

—–

“Leave??” He spat it out toward Lena like it was a meal of fresh shite. He didn’t like it one *bite*.

“It’s only for the holiday season,” she tried innocently.

“Listen honey, I *know* how these things *work*.” He shakes his head. “Lord lord lord, first Jim A. and now *me*.”

“It’s not… like that.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0112, Cass City^, Maebaleia/Satori

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January 20, 2021 · 8:58 am

00240406

The painting is a split landscape with the top portion being heaven and the bottom portion representing hell. Heaven is illustrated with light blues, vibrant colors, and surrounded by flying angels, while hell is much darker than heaven. This is illustrated through dark tones and demonic creatures to set the distinct difference between the two. The entire space is filled and little absent space is present.

“He’s planning to bring back Robert Drake Johns the lime colored robot,” spoke monitoring Rex Ruddy Red in the control room to the actual head honcho, the big Pie in the Sky. Hucka Doobie? I don’t think so in this case. Someone over even the former bee-person. Or perhaps she (he?) has her wings back now in the White Palace.

The Monitor places an image in the sky. A cave, a room, a… cake, or at least a piece of one. But where there’s piece there’s… No piece without cake, perhaps I should put it. The cake ain’t worth shite, and only tastes good to Robert, because he has no taste. Crying Elvises in his bathroom! That kind of bad taste, but also more. And he doesn’t dream, as we also know. Robots can’t dream. That helps excuse a good portion of the bad taste trait, maybe 3 or 4 pieces instead of just the one now. Pieces of pie, pieces of cake. The cake is a lie, yet…”

“OPEN UP THE PORTAL AGAIN,” suddenly came the decree from Up On High.

Baker stops typing, looks at what he’s written. The weirdest thing on this continent he’s suddenly been redirected to in another tangent is that portal to Earth. Right smack in the middle of it all, between North and South, between East and West, but especially North and South, perhaps. Some call the North Heaven, the ones who proclaim the continent to be Satori. Those from the South, who others call Hell, say the actual name is Maebaleia, after the big whale that use to dominate the southern seas. Moby Prick some deem it, or at least a certain writer. Call him… Millgate? Millville?

So close.

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January 12, 2021 · 6:48 am

let them eat cake

“Wheeler will be my downfall, um…”

“*I’m* Wheeler,” spoke the person across from him, not wearing a red dress but we’ll assume she’ll be in one soon enough. At the Red Dress Diner. In New Eden. Probably.

“Right, right, I remember now. Like a wheel. 12:37.” He looks at his left shoulder. No spark. He was up too high.

“Man About Time,” spoke Wendy/Wheeler, saying the correct name the first time ’round. “Do you (even) know where you are?” She stared at him, red hair if not red dress. Very red.

“Downfall,” MAT muttered, noticing the same. “I’m MacDonald. I did something to the Ind– indigenous people of this great land.” Now: red on my hands, he realized. Blood on my face, yech.

“We’re not in Canada,” measured out Wendy/Wheeler. “That’s Toddles and Peet Archer, traveling across (its) frozen Heartland, waiting for a chance. And now they have it. The wife said, ‘pick a town, pick *one* town’. And so Picton it is. But after the Green Yard, er, Yarn in the middle of town…”

“Picturetown,” MAT recalled. “I remember that much.”

“Don’t forget it. Because it won’t change back.”

MAT then saw too much at the crossing. Twins — he had picked the wrong one to converse with today. Someone had warned him about the wrong dress. The one without blood. Without blame?

“End of Time,” Wendy/Wheeler said after the moment, about the place they were in. “We have crossed over.”

MAT looked past his left shoulder at the askew windows of the treehouse they sat in, remembering that too. A spark of memory. 12:37. Dinner time.

But Wendy/Wheeler couldn’t cook worth shite. Fast food hamburgers it was again.

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January 23, 2020 · 10:01 am

what’s behind 02

Guy has a dream where he is calling the fox through music.

“Put down that silly instrument that you can’t play properly anyway. We’re related!”

Newtonia Kashkow inserts herself back in the picture (MOO). She’s ready to give the password.

—–

Guy Benjamin wakes up. “Shite! So close.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0609, Kowloon^^

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January 18, 2020 · 9:48 am

not today

I’m very close to the answer, Axis thinks while staring up.

He turns. Very close.

He buys the “white eye” offered on top of the old drum can for a linden dollar, wears, and instantly becomes blinded.

“*Shite*.”

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December 21, 2019 · 2:22 am

Bellisaria

She walked and walked, further than ever until the one track became two, as it always was. And always will be. She sat down in the middle of the split to remember who she was/is/will be.

I am Tessa from in or near Twin Peaks, she told herself. Old and yet young here. Between the red and yellow in front of me…

… and the blue and green behind.

Split. Like realities.

She will not move until someone comes and helps her choose.

But then a scary bug appears beside her and makes her choose anyway. “Shite!” she exclaims while jumping off the bench onto the wrong track.

The year: ’42. She heard distant bugles. A faint smell of burnt copper was in the air. She knows which reality she’s in. And it’s not the right one. The Realm of Fear.

End of Time was a *sanctuary* she realized. Once she stepped back in the light, all was exposed for what it is.

But she must forget all this and get back to the cave. It was only an experiment, see, a dream even. Trouble is, she was heading the wrong way.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0301, Bellisaria, Grote

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December 19, 2019 · 6:59 am

Junk Yd

He always seemed to be hiding behind bushes.

No not that one (SWING!). *This* one.

Because he himself was a bush. Not yet burning but hopefully soon. The Sun was very very hot today. Perhaps today would be the day….

He moves on, trying to find…

OH SHITE, it happened!

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December 18, 2019 · 4:17 pm

Guyd 03

Tasteless smell-less Robert Drake Johns had had enough. 5 was his limit for mud cake pies! He pushed it just enough toward Guyd, who quickly grabbed it up and ran. “Thanks!” she purred back at the gluttonous, lime green robot. The stench was all over it. “Mine mine mine!” he cried, his eyes beacons in the dark, but Guyd had already exited the cave room. 3 hours later, bumbling and stumbling through the maze, she found Rebl back in Wabe. Or was it Wabd now?

Rebl was pleased (!!). She took one bite, spat it on the ground, dug a little hole for the thing, covered it up, and put a little tombstone on top that read “shite”. “It’s a dog’s dinner,” she pronounced through painful wincing, and went to retch in a corner while holding a thumb’s up. Success!

Second fiddle no more. She was ready to meet Bush. Either one would do, but she’d prefer the Sun. The burny one.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0213, End of Time^^, Georgia

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