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  • #784
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      I think it’s you that gets confused with genders , Al, Becky said gently. Leo and Bea are both old dears, they’ve always been female. Of course, Becky mused, With so many probable realities, are there ever any ‘correct and right and true’ facts at all? Everything seems so much more fluid and changable these days, everything morphs along the way it will. It will what it will, I am what I am……

      Al rolled his eyes at Becky. You may well morph along happily, Morph Becky Pooh, but some of us need to keep track.

      Oh, it’s always on track, Al! How can anything ever really be off it? A wonderful glorious meandering labyrinth of a track, admittedly, but with so many splendid intersections, like spaghetti junctions….Come on, let’s go out and play in the sun! Let’s play Follow My Thread in the park.

      Pffft, Al replied.

      #780
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Dear… And I always thought Beattie was a male name… Isn’t that funny? Al mused as he felt wrapped into the gortex (a kind of water-proof vortex specially fit for skimpy undies under torrential rains) of Becky’s thoughts…

        Not that it mattered.

        Albert was starting to question his own gender now… Could be another funny bodily exploration.
        Hope Tina wouldn’t mind.

        #772

        Smiling warmly, and stretching luxuriously and rather felinely, Illi woke up from her dream. The sun had been shining in her dream, as indeed it was on the beach of the sand dragons where she had fallen asleep all those many moons ago. She had many projects underway in her dream, lots of interesting ideas to be sorted out and she knew that many dear ones had been with her in the dream: hiding under tables, and in cupcoards….some in the fridge, some in the lavatory cistern; lending energy and support, albeit behind the scenes. That they were not visibly helping didn’t mean that they weren’t there, in a spirit of helpful cooperation, Illi knew, and she felt comforted.

        When Illi had fallen asleep, she had been bored, hopelessly frustrated . The delights of the island paradise had palled rather quickly. Sure, she could create whatever she wanted, and she had had fun for awhile creating sand creatures and so on, but she had realized that she missed the surprises, the interactions with others, things not going according to plan… her objective plan, at any rate.

        Illi was beginning to accept the fact that she was ‘dead’, at last, but she was starting to see that it wasn’t the ‘end’, but an opportunity for a new beginning.

        Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkiling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

        ~~~

        Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvellous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.

        #767
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          State of Marshall VS Vinya Grey
          extracts of procedure 5057TP on case of unsolved time-blink that may have interfered with the timeline – Aug. 5th, 2237

          — As you are certainly most aware, Ms Grey, local authorities of the T FGF P (Timespace and Further Geodimensional Flux Police) has recently uncovered a case of unexplainable appearance of a new species within the past.
          The genetic makeup of this species bears some rather crude indication of human interference, though no official authorization has been recorded on its behalf. Our investigations have led us to believe you may have more than a little to do with this incident, which is, as you are once again quite aware, within the boundaries of decree 5533 on allowed and banned interferences and seeding into the timeline.

          — Objection, Judge! Prosecutor Arkandiusz is trying to intimidate my client. No proof has been yet produced that may confirm or infirm these allegations.

          — Mmmm… Objection rejected. Please continue Mr. Arkandiusz.

          — Shall I remind Ms Grey that the voluntary or involuntary seeding of new species within other areas has most of the time been disastrous, which is the reason of the decree aforementioned. Precedents were numerous even when our ancestors were not even aware of the possibility of time interference. Rabbits in Australia, does it ring any bell?

          — Objection, Judge! We are not talking about deadly pests here, we are talking about severely handicapped goats! Jeeze, come on…

          — … Do you mean, the Fainting Goats of our annual Fair, Mr Frey?

          — Yes, Judge Cornwick.

          — Oh, that is most interesting… Well, perhaps after this long introduction you may want to introduce your first witness Mr Arkandiusz, Ms… Beryl is that?

          #1727

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Two beetle incidents this week (three if you count Beatleboy joining my Multiply blog) as well as Jib’s dream, so I googled beetles and found that they are connected to mummification.
            :mummy:

            Roger Fry’s uncle Joseph Storrs Fry was a member of the Bristol Fry family and head of the family chocolate firm of J. S. Fry & Sons.

            He assumed control of the company in 1888 :cluebox:

            (And for what it’s worth, the more damn things that get posted, the more sync’s we notice, share and appreciate) :yahoo_winking:

            #765
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              After hours and hours of lessons in the middle of stinky pelts in their log cabin, it didn’t take Elvira long to realize taxidermy wasn’t really her forte either.

              #1723

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “I lay on a couch in my normal clothes and a nurse put some anaesthetic drops in my eyes. Dr Allamby then put a retainer on one eye to hold the lids wide open. He used a microscope while he asked me to look into a blue light. First, he made marks with ink on my cornea. Then he used a hand-held device to send radio waves into my cornea, making eight tiny dots in a ring around the edge, near the white of my eye. This changes the shape of the cornea, making it more curved, which increases the focus power of the eye and so helps to improve vision.
                It didn’t hurt at all. It took about five minutes to do one eye. Then he did the same thing with my other eye, though this time he put two circles of eight dots around my cornea. This was to sharpen my reading vision”

                #1721

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Just found a strange animal :goat:   the Japanese Serow….. :yahoo_thinking:

                  #2008

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    LET YOUR DNA SING, AND DANCE THE bright dance, THE times ARE interesting, THE sun IS SHINING AND THE door IS OPEN. Finn askED THE BRIGHT dog SHE WAS taking FOR A WALK: SHOW ME THE link TO Salome! HE hands HER A black snoot AND SAYS: THERE’S change inside.

                    #1717

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      that’s interesting Jib, reading this bought back vivid recollection of a book I had as a kid of the “golden age” actors and actresses. I found a number of funny little synchs when reading the Deborah Kerr link … this one made me smile “Her first acting teacher was her aunt, Phyllis” …. as when I was writing the comment for Shar and Glor yesterday, (it is comment number 1233) one of them said she got her psychic abilities from her Aunt Phyllis, a name not based on anyone, it just came to mind with a certain luminosity …. (although I then changed the name to Aunt Philly to be more in character :yahoo_laughing: ).

                      #756

                      Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

                      He must have slept for hours.

                      Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

                      Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

                      It is no longer there

                      Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

                      Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

                      Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

                      Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

                      #1716

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Ok, I don’t know how I fell upon this one, but all I can remember is that the name made me think of the gibbons syncs of the last few days…

                        Cedric Gibbons

                        Apparently he was an American art director, and “he is credited as the designer of the Oscar statuette in 1928.”
                        Well that also syncs with Tracy’s comment about the parrot Oscar.. though I don’t remember where I saw it… maybe on her multiply thingy… and also after Eric’s great cubical comment, I remember seeing one of her messages to him and she said that he won an Oscar for it… :-?

                        The other sync with him is that these last few days I had the impression of connecting to “ancient actors or actresses” those of the “golden age”… so to speak. Well I have not much to say about it except that it is a sync :p I still don’t know where it will lead me.

                        (added later)

                        Well apparently other syncs… the actress Deborah Kerr was one of the actresses in the movies he made in 1953 Young Bess and yesterday at work one of my colleagues, who is so interested in breeding cats, showed me a web site about Norwegian cats from the Lailoken site

                        The kitten he was particularly interested in was called Deborah Kerr
                        I don’t know if this page will stay long as they are for sale, though they are really cute.

                        #1715

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        Jib
                        Participant

                          I’ve been surfing on my impulses and on the internet.
                          I found many interesting stuffs, and all quite connected or syncing together so to speak, even from distant links or seemingly not related links.

                          Today’s syncing is about “pea” I saw this word many times and it led me to several individuals connected to genetics… and to this guy : Karl Pearson who was born March 27, 1857…

                          In the wiki biography, it is said that he further stated :

                          …science is in reality a classification and analysis of the contents of the mind….” “In truth, the field of science is much more consciousness than an external world.

                          Well I like this free flowing movement.

                          #755

                          — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

                          — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

                          — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

                          — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

                          — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

                          — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

                          — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

                          — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

                          — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

                          — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

                          — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

                          — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

                          — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

                          — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

                          — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

                          — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

                          — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

                          — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

                          — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

                          — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

                          — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

                          — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

                          — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

                          #752
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

                            Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

                            Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

                            Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

                            OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

                            India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

                            The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

                            India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

                            Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

                            OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

                            A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

                            Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

                            Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

                            #1711

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Not sure if this link will work to Oba’s song lyrics, but the bones of the sync are this:

                              “We’re goin’ out tonight bejeweled and adorned
                              A Horus Line’s performing at the Gates Of Horn
                              Mummies get boners and their wrappings unfurl
                              At the sight of my Memphis girl

                              She is so extraordinary
                              Strolling through the mortuary
                              The Necropolis aint half that scary
                              OOOOH! Memphis girl…”

                              :mummy:

                              #751

                              Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

                              Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

                              If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

                              Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

                              Silence.

                              Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

                              Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

                              He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

                              She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

                              I am worried about you, Chris.

                              He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

                              Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

                              She took a deep breath.

                              I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

                              Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

                              Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

                              #747

                              What a francitic woman thought Elizabeth, a bit less distressed now she had secured her last insights into her clooh-box.
                              Hopefully, she could happily forget about those, and go for a walk to have some welcomed cooffee.

                              Wishing she would not bounce into some unwelcome apparition, she trod her way to the outside world.
                              How long it had been? With all that pressure from her publisher, she had almost forgotten how exquisite it all was outside.
                              So simple, and yet so brilliant.

                              It didn’t have the complexity of the Worlds of which she intuited things, nor the same amount of excitement it aroused in her, but nonetheless it was appeasing, and that was perhaps all she needed for the moment.
                              Perhaps a walk to Garden Centrool would do her great.

                              :fleuron:

                              Sitting on a bench near the dribbling foontain where cuckoos were drinking at the sound of woodpeckers’ holes drilling, she became entranced by the sound of water, and almost felt like dancing at the cuckoos and woodpecker’s cooing and drumming beats…
                              All this Lemone quotes were now far away… She’d had enough of them, and wanted simpler truths. Lively ones.

                              She could feel inspiration flow back into herself, as she envisioned her favorite depiction of inspiration, the mangeloose Pigoosus. Elizabeth was reeling in its wonderful aura, seeing the squinting eyes of the creature, the magnificence of its sprawled wings, its awe-inspiring moose antlers, and the slick body of a foxy mongoose with a protuberant snoot.

                              It all was symbolic of herself of course, the best depiction of all her awesome features. The snoot for curiosity (and nose in general), the wings for imagination, the antlers for connection, and the mongoose for the fearlessness and sex-appeal.

                              Pigoosus, or Pigooh, as she called him, was telling him tales, tales that were spun between the gapping holes of her clooh-box items, and that were weaving them together in beautiful macramooh patterns.

                              The Shift in Earth-dimension awareness is coming and it is revealing long-lost hidden things, that is the reason of these other-dimensional bleed-through on the islands. Where those having hoped to bury some artifacts away of consciousness, in that dimension where all was so separated that even Pigooh would have had trouble getting throoh. The skulls gates one by one open now.

                              Pen! She needed a pen!

                              #1709

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster

                                A small sync that hits me now I re-read it…
                                In Francie’s comment about Elizabeth of the Ooh-dimension a reference is made of the “clooh-box”.

                                Funny thing was that yesterday, we were talking with Tracy of one of the tiles which she felt linked to Francie, with the sense of natural magic it conveys. It reminded me that Jib told me it made him think of a magical girl scepter.
                                During spring in New-Zealand, so that must have been around October, we discussed cherry blossom (or さくら sakura in Japanese) with Francie, and had some syncs with Sakura, who is a “magical girl” with a winged scepter.

                                And, as I explained a bit the concept to Tracy, I told her about the Clow cards (here’s my entry for a sync :yahoo_eyelashes: :yahoo_tongue: ).

                                Tracy found Dash interesting (its form is a blue, fox-like creature with long rabbit ears) —even more as it appears in episode 53 :yahoo_big_grin:

                                #746

                                My God, what the fuck is that?

                                Veranassessee sighed, seeing the two plump lady on top of one another, lying sprawled all fours on the ground, with the door blown out in shards.

                                Untie me Gabriele, so that I can ask for the nurse’s help. she said reluctantly to her partner, seeing with a bit of dolefulness, the effect of their strange erotic games already waning off.

                                — Are you alright ladies?
                                — Oh, I guess so, Vessie, sorry to have interrupted, we thought…
                                — Yes, yes… Veranassessee was feeling oddly detached from the women’s babbled and muddled excuses, and even more detached from her own sloppy appearance.
                                All she could think at the moment was that she seemed fated to marry Mahiliki, and get loads of children on Fukitupi, a doom that hovered on her head like a rapacious magpie over a precious gemstone…
                                Good thing she was so gorgeous she would look great even wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that already…

                                Arch-Agent Gabriele came back, telling her he had called nurse Bellamy on the intercom, and she would be here in a minute.
                                I’ll go to my room dear, we’ll talk later about Barbella. he said casually, a convenient code for “plan B” between them two.
                                Professional as he was, he had also, V’ass noticed, as the women were untangling themselves, made the box and the silky rope very stealthily disappear.

                                Sure, they would have more time in the evening. But now, she noticed she’d been a bit too lax on the security around the new guests. Fine that Dr Bronkelhampton’s recommendations were to have the patients free for the first months of their treatments (after all, the more drastic transformations never occurred before the thirteenth week), but she had to be more careful about them.
                                She could not have them compromise “plan B”.

                                B as Barbella… or rather…
                                B as Bee-hive.

                                :fleuron:

                                — Did you hear like me, Glo?
                                — I think so, Sha…
                                — What’s that Barbiella, Glo?
                                — Barbella, Sha, barbella, like barbell… Could be a woman’s name…
                                — Poor Vessie seemed so annoyed by the incident…
                                — Yes Sha, we have to help her somewhat, if we want her to forgive us
                                — Sure, we’ll find something to do, Glo.
                                — Yes… I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the man’s…
                                — Gabriele
                                — Yes, Sha, Gabriele —does sound Italian, doesn’t it?
                                — I was about to tell you Glo…
                                — Perhaps that’s Gabriele’s wife…
                                — Or some kinky sadomasochistic practice we never heard of…
                                — Rhooo, Sha, chuckled Gloria, who was thinking of Veranassessee’s dress and wrists tying games…

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