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

September 12, 2019 · 5:38 am

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.


Gila 01

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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October 2, 2018 · 6:40 am

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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July 16, 2018 · 9:24 am

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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June 23, 2018 · 8:30 am

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.

Snapshot1038_012b

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

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June 3, 2018 · 8:23 am

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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May 28, 2018 · 8:02 am

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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May 26, 2018 · 9:05 am

greenborn in white carrot red/all i can show

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May 23, 2018 · 6:33 am

form in back

“You’ve gone too far this time, husband of mine. And you better get home — you’re changing over again.”

“So can I keep it?”

—–

“I recognized him immediately, The Bill.”

“Bill will do. We’ll think about the royal appellation later.”

“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.”

“And then you would meet another Bunneh on your way here. Bunneh 01 and Bunneh 02, then. Maybe it happened the same night even.”

“It did,” assured Bill.

“Baker Blinker thinks it may even be this Leeman or Leemon who designed the other New Island. I almost said ‘more real’ but caught myself.”

“Right. Both New Islands are equally real. And there’s a third we haven’t talked about.”

“Russian,” Baker Bloch stated, ignoring mention of the third for now. “Before independence, his New Island was Russian territory. I’ve been reading the relocation guide. I believe the place is as real as Australia, as New Zealand.”

“India,” Bill added. “Indonesia.”

“But not any more real than, um, our New Island.”

“No, not really. Because we, you and I and anyone else who cares, can *go* to our New Island. Physically for us; virtually for our users.”

“But one is latched onto the other. They are — not two plants from one seed. What (expression) am I looking for?”

“They are like babies from the same mom. Which begs the question: who is Mom?”

“Mum,” Dwayne speaks in sync from the side. “We’re so sorry. The chef has burnt the tuna. Would you like to substitute perch for the entree?”

“Perch, perch, perch,” complains The Bill, back in form. “Perch at Perch, go get the perch at Perch. The perch is the best dish at Perch. Always pushing the perch. Well…” and she sends a riveting stare at Sidechick Corea’s brother, formerly out of a job and down on his luck in Heroin Town, “serve me the tuna, burnt or not. Serve!”

Dwayne scurries back to the kitchen, retrieves the burnt item, then tells the chef to pack it in — he’s done cook’n too. We’ll catch up with the chef’s story (Angus Nuffin) later, for he would get his revenge.

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May 22, 2018 · 6:20 am

bunnehs

“Baker Blinker. Come here. Quick!”

—–

“Just because I have the ring doesn’t mean I necessarily have to go back to Collagesity and be queen. Does it?”

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March 14, 2018 · 5:20 am

detour?

Mabel was not literally stuck in Pipewold; she could emerge and investigate New Island if she wished, her ultimate home if things in Heartsdale didn’t work out. She had to manipulate what she could in the meantime — to prepare. Mabel was looking for this mysterious Leeman or Leemon who supposedly created the whole shebang. Is *this* him? she thinks here.

Hummie the Hummingbird (another one) wasn’t telling.

Buurb didn’t like to come out here, she knew. Says it’s like reading ahead in the hot red book of your life. Plus, taken individually, he had more at stake than Mabel. But there were still other avenues to explore. She hadn’t given up on Baker Bloch bringing their beloved Heartsdale house (or some equivalent) to Collagesity. She knows in one reality this *must* come about. But it’s a domino effect — that would mean, perhaps, the displacement of Karoz Blogger’s TILE Temple, implying *he* wouldn’t have the opportunity to return. And where would that leave mate Baker Blinker?

Mabel wanders back down the beach, toward the far side of the pipe. [Leemon’s?] Beach had been set as her personal limit in this direction. She couldn’t stay out too long — for Buurb’s sake. She spots Volkswagen Gurl leaning against the large, white house in the distance, but too late to turn around. Luckily the chatty lady went AFK before a potential engagement.

She also ran into Yarco on the way back and they held a brief discussion about cactuses, another type of pipe in a way, he explained. Yarco was a graduate assistant in the biology department at New Island Community College, the same place where Robot Derak Jones teaches physics and astronomy. Mabel thought the young lad was a bit full of himself, but he provided useful information at times. And also Mabel felt he could be trusted. She had dirt on him and he her. They were trapped on New Island for similar reasons. Oops, there’s his tanned slave boy. Time to leave, she understands.

Mabel sighs before heading back inside. 242, 121 here at the water’s edge, she notes again. This is where the world splits asunder.

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