Tag Archives: Smelly Santy/Leeman or Leemon^*+++++!

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“Soo, decision time, reunited family of mine. Which New Island is New…

“… and which is Old?” But in staring at the screen before Wheeler, Shelley and Eddy, the answer becomes obvious to presenter Newt; right in front of his face. Daughter Shelley’s black and white dream island, the one she wrote the novel “Hmm” about to promote, is the old one. And the colorful Our Second Lyfe version, virtual but also more real in that way, is New. And they’re linked through Barnaby (Point), an artist colony and perhaps the place Shelley actually settles down in after a stint at Hazel and which could turn into Shelley’s true home… *in each,* her own place apart from Leeman or Leemon the creator of it all. A place that can be *her* creation too. Co-creator she can become. Together moving forward, one energizing the other. Like a game of tennis. Back to you!

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2025 MIDDLE”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0616, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, New Island^, NVFS

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She ran on the beach the following morning and had much to ponder about. Halfway through her visit with Leeman or Leemon she excused herself and went into his small 1 toilet, 1 sink, no tub or shower bathroom in the hallway and inserted her umbrella contact lenses so that she could record what was being said. She figured he wouldn’t mind since he was going to write a book about New Island history anyway. She’d just not share her gathered information to anyone beforehand.

She knew she had to select a place to buy some property, build a home, become part of a tribe, a community. Since she’s also determined she was going to stay here on this New Island, bringing Eddy over too at some point in the process. Hazel seemed like the logical choice to settle down in. Right nearby Leeman/Leemon’s home where she can visit for more talks — he reinforced during her visit to come back any time. So she stayed in the Hazel Hotel last night just to check out more of the vibe. She detected absolutely no signs of wickedness in the air through various conversations and just poking her nose around in general, no spell books, potions, or sigils anywhere to be found, etc. And that night while trying to go to sleep despite all the new (island) thoughts buzzing around her skull, she had an illumination: *she* was going to write a book too. Fictional not factual. She already had a title. “The Hmm.” Stepping on his toes? She hoped not.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0116, New Island^

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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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0103, New Island^

Bill Hill

“‘Pumpkin Twisters’ anyone?” the great Tin S. Man bellowed, his heart aching from all the lame chit chat. Must get down to business, absences be shamed! His time to shine had more than come. Channeling Kinks’ head man Ray Davies in the round, he must finally put selfishness over selflessness.


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On the other side of the tiny woods on the highest hill of the Hills of Bill: the Regaltown “hecklers”, adding more to the tableau.

The target again? Bullfrog, still aligned with Space Ghost. But Space Ghost was getting older, Grammy’s Vortex powers finally losing steam…

They were in their usual spots on the porch outside the trailer perched at the very tippy top, trying to understand the situation.

Space Ghost started the now old argument again. “I thought *you* were Aqua Dude. Like my former roommate…”

“… and his Super Guy duality, yeah. 2n1 in that case. No, for the fiftieth time Aqua Dude and I are separate. Two separate people. A *gay* couple. Get that through your head once and for all.”

“But — I can’t recall ever seeing the two of you *together*. And where’s my cane?”

“You don’t need it yet, Space Ghost,” responded Bullfrog, starting to feel sorry for the old man once more. Getting older by the day, the hour. The cane will come soon enough. “You’re just remembering wrong — getting thoughts jumbled up in your head. We’ve been *over* to your trailer together.”

“But Kevin A…” Space Ghost rattled on.

“I know. It’s confusing. *True* in his case.” Or *was* it, Bullfrog suddenly realized.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to diffused calls of the hecklers across the small grassy parcel from them. No actual words could be made out. The middle “heckler” remained silent as usual, but the stare coupled with the calls from the two surrounding ones made the message loud and clear. Here was Hermania, last girlfriend he’d ever have. Aqua Dude was two guys up from her. But it *wasn’t* Hermania; couldn’t be. Just a statue, an effigy. Made by the other two. No, this was terms for an intervention. Space Ghost had arranged it then let the matter drop. But the hecklers were more persistent. They latched on like ticks. They think Bullfrog and Space Ghost are now lovers. Were they?

“Saying Aqua Dude and me are the same person is as ridiculous as saying we’re two gay lovers, like those idiotic hecklers think.”

Guess not.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0701, Hills of Bill^, Maebaleia/Satori

1/2 and 1/2

Like Tronesisia, Leeman or Leemon has also become mobile enough to make his way over from New Island to Fishers Island and its Wallytown.

But he’s only seeing half the story so far about Bottle Mound, etc. He’s stubborn like that.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0615, New Island^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

daydream

“Okay. But it was definitely Smelly Santy. You remember — from the Mission. The eggs, Bill. They must have killed him (!). The Bennington experiments.”

“Nasty place. Even I would admit that.”

“Dwayne, a complaint from the customer at Table D.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0607, Rubi^

one way

Strange that Irish Moss would grow in the sea, Mabel thought from the Yd Bay coastline, peering out at the red plant cluster in the shallow water ahead…

… that, in truth, was another red-blue situation, its duplicate cluster’s hue being just unresolved from Mabel’s distance.

Mabel makes sure to say hello to Leeman or Leemon on her way back to the Scarlet Creative Sylvia House, her home away from home.

Aloha indeed, in that you say hello to this island you never get to say goodbye. The blue never seems to come with the red. Except for one person…

“I knew it was going to be you tonight,” Mabel spoke across the table in her peculiar Martian accent, consonants accented and vowels subdued.

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“Well, I knew it was going to be *you*,” the confident 15 year old countered.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0416, New Island^

The Point of Barnaby Point

“The 3rd, Baker Bloch. Er, Pitch Darkly. Maybe you should just *turn into* Pitch Darkly since you seem to like the character so much. Right Mary?”

“It might be nice,” Mary said from behind them. She then hunches over further so she can see the Wisconsin map with the proximate New Island and Fisher Island better. “Do you think this will convince this Leeman or Leemon? There’s Sunset Beach in the lower right corner (after all).”

“His childhood home,” Bill finishes. “Well, it’s obvious something is going on in this and that other Wisconsin location at least.”

“Outagamie County,” Pitch Darkly adds. “Leeman there as well, mirroring the Leemon in Missouri. Only other one.”

“Right,” reinforces Bill. “You getting all this Mary?”

“I… think. Where’s the Wisconsin Leeman? Do we have a map of it as well?”

“Of course,” declares Bill, returning to the Oracle home page and looking up ‘Leemo’. Only 1 direct hit: Leemon Missouri, but with a lone variant of Leeman. Which leads us to the only other Leeman, in Wisconsin. She clicks the appropriate link and adjusts the map.

“Just a placemarker,” continues Bill. “But perhaps an effective one. Subtle but effective. It’s in his home county, you see. The new one.”

“Oh.” Mary scratches her head. “So Fisher Island is right next to New Island in Beaver Dam Lake, Wisconsin…”

“The two biggest islands of 22 in that lake,” Pitch tacks on. “And that’s the only New Island in America besides the one in the big swamp in Georgia. (Which) probably doesn’t count.”

“Fisher Island is a blog invention,” continues Mary, slightly irritated at her train of thought being interrupted. But she gets over it quickly — fascinating subject for her. “New Island is also a blog invention but… connects to Leeman or Leemon’s New Island through Barnaby Point. Barnaby Point exists in both.”

“Correct, Mary,” replies Pitch, proud of his studious spouse. For he had married Mary on March 25th of this year in the Cult of Oo’d Church, the only place of worship in town at the time. One could say they were still in their newlywed phase. With all the attached highs and lows, of course. Tough dealing with New Life situations; but they were managing. Now that Pitch was out of the thick of his Russian phase. Still… the statue… “Art gallery laden Barnaby with its Barnaby Point in *his* New Island also being near the Sunset Beach of *his* New Island,” Pitch states. “Couple of miles apart.”

“Artist Point,” utters the freelancing Mary. “‘Artist Point Interactive’… that’s the *Hazel meeting*. Mentioned in Pot Head’s and Sheriff’s new business blurb in the ‘New Island Gazette’ *Our* ‘New Island Gazette’.”

“They are no longer Sheriff and Pot Head in this blog,” corrects Bill. “They are Marty and Jay or Jay and Marty — take your pick. They are too stoned at any one point — get it? point — to care which of their names comes first, I would venture.” Bill was known for her bad puns, but at least she has a bit of a sense of humor now. Unlike olden times when she first came to power in Collagesity. She’s softened. “I’m tired,” she suddenly declares. “This meeting is over. Go back to your Darkly Manor and think of things to discuss in *our* next meeting. Which is tomorrow. And I expect *you two*” — she turns and points to the two 4 handed librarians sitting around The Table — “to contribute as well. And not just ‘carrot’… and ‘glasses.’ Something substantial and with meat that we can lay out on the table and feast upon. Beef or chicken. Or at least fish. Can you do that for me, hmm?”

The librarians stare at each other, knowing they can’t.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0302, Georgia, New Island^, Rubi^, Wisconsin

Yd Bay revisited

“I have delicious sandwiches over here, Mr. Leeman. Mr. Leemon. And watermelon…” Mabel knew it was no good. If this *was* a spell, the theoretical creator of New Island itself was mired deep. He was simply immobile now. But still the resemblance to Smelly Santy couldn’t be denied. She had checked earlier in the day — just after the sun rose — and taken snapshots. She went over and compared again, “show attachment” option on.

Yup, they’re the same.

She looks over at Volkswagen Gurl’s house, gleaming white bright in the noonday sun. No sign of the chatty owner, though.

Mabel then gazes north into Yd Bay and the small isle there, about the same size as much more noted Fisher or Fishers Isle to the south, but 3 palms and the truth this time, ha, instead of 4. Linden palms 1 and 2, as she’s currently checking. Fishers Isle’s palms are mesh objects in contrast.

She decides to fly over.

Snorkling comes to mind again while she stands upon it– exploration of the sea life surrounding New Island. That’s a thicket of purple Irish Moss sticking out over there, for example. She can see this happening soon.

And then another island a little beyond. Larger, but no palms this time.

Yd Bay, and another thicket of Irish Moss within. The great chunk of cheddar that ended the life of Thadeus Fogg must have been situated just between me and that point of land, Mabel speculates, trying to recall the tragedy as described in the “New Island Gazette”, then a 20 page publication instead of the 5 it has dwindled to in present times. She wonders how the Widow Fogg is doing.

And decides to pay a call. Maybe she would know more about Leeman or Leemon. Or maybe Mid-Hazel?

Permanent bay dweller Timothy Sprawled saw it all, but he’s been unable to relay what actually happened for a long time. Decades and decades.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0207, New Island^

greenborn in white carrot red/all i can show

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0204, New Island^