Marlene goes to the doctor on the Wonder Twins . . . I’m thinking maybe she’s not really that sick.
That’s right, folks, Boppo is baaaack! Sorry I left him floating around aimlessly in Sim land there for a while. I figured he needed some time to cool off, what with me setting him on fire in the last post. So what’s in store for Boppo today? Let’s see. Oh, and if in case you missed the last post LINK DROP!
Let’s take a peek and see what’s going on with our little clown friend. (click to enlarge)
Obviously social services is a little touched, but don’t worry, they’ll rescue baby from whatever unfortunate accidents might befall poor Boppo. Not that this would happen, of course. Boppo quickly gets to know baby.
I see people do this with their kids a lot, and they aren’t even clowns. Some of them really get those kids airborne. I can just see their tiny brains rattling around in their skulls. Baby is bound to get a bit nauseous too.
Now I was tempted to just leave the toddler with him until he went insane but maybe I’ll put him out of his misery earlier. Let’s see, last time was fire, this time – how about water? Drown the clown!
Here’s Boppo getting ready to jump in the pool. For some strange reason, Sims cannot just climb out of the pool on their own. There must be a ladder. It’s become such a common way to rub out a Sim that when they created Sims 2, the creators made a family who had lost the father in a freak pool ladder accident. Anyhoo, take note of that ladder in the corner, cause it’s gonna disappear.
Oh, ohs! Oh, hey, what happened here?
I forgot that one of the many expansion packs has people show up randomly when a Sim gets interested in some hobby. Like, say, if the Sim is gardening, some garden Sim will show up. Well, Boppo has gotten really interested in fitness (since he has to keep swimming to keep alive) so this guy just appeared and dropped right into the pool . . . and into my deadly trap. Oh oh, spaghettios!
So now we have both Boppo and random dude (as Thing One named him) swimming around in circles. I sped it up cause I’m a busy gal and he has a lot more ways to die. At one point, his bladder went down so low he peed in the pool. You can see bubbles come up – seriously! I bet random guy was thrilled to swim in Boppo’s pee.
But there’s only so long Boppo can keep treadin’ water.
Anddd death has to come again.
Notice that the dog, some random girl that showed up, and random dude just ignore the whole thing. But don’t worry for them. Social services came for the baby – they have this awesome way of beaming babies out of trouble – and animal control came for the poodle, Wee Wee, and the hamster of death. So all’s well that ends well – except for Boppo of course.
At least until I bring him back to life. Again. And kill him. Again. Stay tuned for Boppo’s next torture on the menu: The Box.
Mary Alice shows us how to have the perfect home and family on The Wonder Twins.
That was my subtle way to inform you that I just received some stickers. But not any ordinary Lisa Frank freaking radioactive stickers like you used to place on your trapper keepers. Oh, no. These were stickers with designs by a fellow blogger.
THE CUTEST DESIGNS EV-AH!
See Goldfish, a fab blogger, just opened a store on Redbubble where she’s selling her designs in various forms. Stickers, prints, posters, T-shirts, etc. The stickers are quite affordable, and if you buy six, they take 50 percent off. So of course I bought six. The Things were happy to help me pick them out. We ordered a bunny, a kitty, an owl, a racoon, a PENGUIN OF COURSE, and a panda.
After I ordered, I waited for these bad boys to arrive. I was patient as always. Look in the mailbox. Are they there yet? No. Look again. Now? No. This went on about a week or so, but then, by golly, they came at last. They are decent sized stickers – about the size of the palm of my hand. I took a few shots before the Things could get hold of them and like stick them on something, like their walls or each other or whatever.
The girls picked two each, which left me with two. Mothers have to sacrifice all the bloody time. My favorite one is this one, which the girls told me fits my blog for some strange reason.
But it gets better, folks. See I asked Goldfish to do something special for me and you know what? SHE DID. She made me a Sad Pony and he is the best Sad Pony I have ever seen, like ever. And she’s going to make me a Squirrel to go with him. Rad, huh? Check out the Sad Pony design. You can get one too, if you want. Just go to her store here and you can find him here.
Anyway, I feel like I should share the good fortune. So I’m going to sweeten the pot of my Sparklepony contest. Yes, that’s right, the winner will now get not only this creation . . .
But also one of my only two Goldfish stickers, the cute raccoon. That is blogger love you guys. All I ask is that you help a fellow artist out. Check out her store. Tell your friends. All that stuff. Oh, and enter my contest to get one FREE from ME. How’s that for promotion?
You so know you want Mr. Raccoon up there. And Sparklepony, of course. Good luck, and may the sparkle be with you.
Greetings, Sparkleponies. After announcing that I would give everyone more time on my illustrious contest, I got several entries in over the weekend. Thanks so much for your participation! Today I’ll give you links to some awesome posts in celebration of Sparky, but first a word from Sparky himself.
Yo, homies, Sparks has entered the building. You can all relax. Autographs later. None on the buns, hun.
Alice handed me the stack of entries and wow I was so not impressed, but then, who can be as awesome as I am, right? Still there is that . . . thing she’s offering and I’m going to have to choose a winner. I think I’d rather give more tips first, this time about the comments section. Yeah, no, Alice is not getting her post back.
Be sure and make everything, I don’t care what it is, into a political argument. For instance: Blogger says “My grandma died.” You would then say “It’s all Obama’s fault.” See, simple.
Post anonymously. That way you can say really Jerky stuff and no one will know who to blame. Bonus points if the blogger blames the wrong person.
Get into a fight with another commenter about some random word you disagree with in the post. Keep at it. Never give up. Never surrender. Example: Corn is NOT a vegetable and I will not rest until you accept that!
Okay, that’s all the wisdom I could poop out for now. Let’s get to our contestants. Yawn.
First up djmatticus. This guy thinks he is a jester in some mythical kingdom, yet his wife is a queen and his son is a prince. His wife must have really strange tastes to go for the jester. I wonder if the king knows. Anyhoo, I have to admire this guy’s suction power. We’re talking Hoover here. Also he made up a pointless award with an applesauce jar and tons of stupid rules. Alice actually participated in it. She has no life. Anyway, I like this dj, even if he lied and is not, in fact, a real D.J. I need some tunes, fo shizzle.
Next is dranoman, oh wait, draliman. Eh, whatever. This guy knows how to properly suck up. Compliment the kids. Moms, like Alice, are total suckers for that junk. He even made her Things their own badge. Well played man, well played. Here’s the badge in case you have yard apes of your own.
Okay, next is . . . wait, that’s a dog. We’ve got a dog entering the contest now? Yes? Oh, whatever. Okay, so next up is easyweimeraner. What can I say about this blogger? Cute doggy. Goood doggy. No, that’s my butt, not a chew toy! Uh, anyway, he had to have his human write the post because paws, you know, and wow his owner is clueless. Thought my name was Spanky. Do I look like one of the Little Rascals? Jeez. But doggy did show lots of pictures of himself (are you a he, doggy? I’m not sure and I’m not checking.) which is very sparkyish. Good job! Have a biscuit!
And now we have . . . okay wait a minute. First a dog and now a squirrel? What the hey with the animal friends, Alice? I thought that was Snow White’s gig. Sigh. Next contestant is evilsquirrel. Well, for a squirrel, he’s pretty dang cool. Not only did he make a picture of me being loved on by really hot squirrel girls (you know, for squirrels) but he also stole one of Alice’s pictures to make an award. I want this guy on my paintball team. Check out his award, which he bestowed upon some Merbear (don’t ask me what that is, I don’t even want to deal with . . .)
Our next contestant! Merbear! Half bear, half mermaid, she’s all goofy. Alice calls her Wonder Twin because she thinks they are superheroes. They want to be two of the lamest superheroes in comic book history, but whatever. She made most of the post about her own award, which I thought totally rocked. She cried on a dumpster dive record and got people to compete for it. With haikus. And they did. Bloggers will do anything. Remember that.
Okay, now the last contestant (for now ) is twindaddy. I’m guessing that means he’s a daddy of twins. I’m a GENIUS. This guy has this other personality he talks to, which is totally weird. Like, who does that? And this other personality wrote a post totally dissing the Sparkster here. That takes gall. I admire that. He thinks he’s coming after me, but I’m not worried. My butt has sparks, sparks, sparks, sparks, sparks to light the world. Dude even put a crown on his head. That crown would fit me beautifully. It clashes with his armor.
Well that’s all the contestants for now. But THERE IS STILL TIME. Alice wants me to stress this. You can still enter the contest by making a post sounding as much like me, King of the Blogosphere, as possible. She’s a little unstable, so you guys might want to play along. I mean, who knows what she’ll do. Remember, this is what’s at stake.
Dear Blunt Life Coach,
I have some bad news. I think it’s over between us. Yes, you are ever so hot in that storm trooper armor. And I do love how you are, well, blunt with people. Sometimes they need that. Especially stupid people.
But here’s the thing. Not everyone is stupid! Also, it seems like there should be some way to be assertive, but not mean. Cause while I might be a little on the mad side, Blunt Life Coach, you’re just – well you’re just mean. You’re mean to a good friend of mine especially, twindaddy.
Twindaddy is a good guy. He loves his kids. And that’s cool, not wimpy. He cares about people, especially his friends. That’s not a weakness as you say. It’s a strength. The truth is, Blunt Life Coach, you are a bully. Forgive me while I quote Taylor Swift. It’s from her song “Mean” not “We’re never, ever getting back together” though that one applies too.
I bet you got pushed around
Somebody made you cold
But the cycle ends right now
Cause you don’t know, what you don’t know
What don’t you know? You don’t know that twindaddy grows stronger with the Force. He’s not going to listen to you so much anymore. Oh, you’ll still be there, in the background, snapping at him, putting him down. But he knows better now. And I think he’s strong enough to keep you at bay.
We all have one of you in our heads. That voice that says we’re not good enough, that we’re stupid, that we should just give up. Maybe that voice sounds like a parent, or an ex, or some kid on the playground back in school, or a cat whose body keeps disappearing (I will GET you, Cheshire Cat!) Whoever it sounds like, we can’t let it bring us down. We can’t let it become our voice, so that we put down everyone else. There must be, well, balance to our Force.
So that’s a lot to say, well, we are over. And never, ever gettin’ back togetherrrrr! Stick that song in your head, dear twindaddy, and I’m sure Blunt Life Coach will be heading for the hills. If not, I have another solution. You see, there is a new love in my life. I think you know him.
HK-47 is an awesome boyfriend. I can program him to be my boyfriend, you know. Best of all, he comes with some pretty cool programming of his own. He kills annoying people. I’m thinking, since he’s in a video game, that means he can kill virtual people quite easily. Like you, Blunt Life Coach. So here’s the deal. Leave twindaddy alone, or I’m sending him after you.
See ya, you meanie,
I hate crickets. That’s right, I said it. I hate ’em. Even you, Jiminy, you crank.
In some countries, these little bits of horror are considered lucky. I can’t imagine why. Is it lucky because hey, now you know you have excellent hearing what with their constant freaking chirping? You know, like chirp, chirp, chirp HERE I AMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! There is actually a children’s book called The Very Quiet Cricket. That book is a lie. I have never known a a cricket to be quiet except when I’m about to corner the creepy thing and he shuts up, knowing I’m on to him. At the end of the book the cricket finds his voice (spoiler alert) and there is this cute chirping noise and slam, slam, slam goes the book!
Why the AliceRage at these innocent little insects? Well, we’ve recently had a cricket invasion. One cricket found his way in and then shouted out to all his cricket frat buddies “Heyyyyy, guys, come on in! There’s chicks here, I just know it!” And so they came. And they hid in their little holes, each one singing out a song of romance. If I could speak cricket, I’m sure it would sound something like this.
It’s just as annoying in chirps as it is in words, I’m here to tell you. None of them seems to get the idea that there ARE NO FEMALE CRICKETS HERE. Really, keep rubbin’ them wings together (My husband informed me they rub their wings, not their legs, like I give a crap. I’m going to break their legs if I find them.)
I’m not actually a violent person. Well, not against living things, anyway, virtual peeps don’t count. They don’t. Boppo, I’m still coming for you. Anyway, I will genuinely feel bad if I squash out the tiny life of a spider. Not as bad as I would feel if he crawled up my leg, but bad. Yet it’s different with these crickets. These crickets employ a torture method much like Chinese water torture, only with chirps. Chirp . . . chirp . . . chirp . . . chirp . . . chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! Until you finally go insane. You’re ready to either kill the thing or jam one of those ear cleaners up your ear canal as seen on TV.
We’ve managed to catch a few. Instead of giving them burials at sea (toilet) as any normal person would do, my husband takes them outside, like he’s some sort of Cricket Whisperer or something. Fly, be free cricket! Free to turn right around and come back into my house! I swear they do. There can’t be this many crickets alive in the known world.
My husband thought it’d be a cute idea to tell Thing Two to create “cricket traps” before he left today. Ha ha, yes, thank you. So we have weird contraptions all over the house, baited mostly with marshmallows held over a bucket of water. One of them, though, was a Halloween bucket containing a couple of potato chips set down in a laundry basket with a rope leading from it. And – it worked. It actually worked. She then, just like dad, took it outside and dumped it.
So why don’t I search and find them and stomp them? Because as much as I hate chirping, I’m scared of bugs. I know, it’s stupid, but nothing should have more than two legs, I’m telling you. It’s just wrong. So I guess till then I learn to live with the crickets. Kind of like my comments section on certain days.
crickets . . .
Hi, again, all, I am guest posting over on Stuphblog today and talking about science fiction. Gettin’ my “geek” on. Or am I? Take a look! Oh, and yes, we are playing ping pong with you today.
Great news, sparkleponies! The other day, I managed to corner Blunt Life Coach and score an interview! If you don’t know who Blunt Life Coach (BLC) is, you need to check out twindaddy’s blog. He’s just awesome is all, and, well, we sort of have like this romance going on with our alternate personalities. But I don’t want to give away too much. On with the interview!
Alice: So, BLC, how long have you been hangin’ out in TD’s body?
BLC: Too long. I can’t tell you for sure, because the mind blocks out tragedies for self-preservation purposes, but I started becoming very aware in the past year and asserting more of myself over that lame piece of shit.
Alice: Why do you think TD is lame? I think he’s nice.
BLC: He’s a pussy. He let’s people walk all over him. And he…loves people. Fuck that.
Alice: Ah, good point. People are highly overrated. How do you handle being the hotter half of TD?
BLC: With grace and dignity. Plus, he’s a loser so I don’t have to worry about it.
Alice: Because you are hot.
BLC: You’re being weird again. What’s wrong with you?
Alice: I’m mad, why do you ask? Moving on. What do you do while you are actively controlling TD’s body?
BLC: Insult inferior people, which is almost everybody. It’s why I took up an advice column. With great intelligence comes great responsibility. I feel it is my duty to try to educate idiots.
Alice: And you do it so well. Could you educate me?
BLC: You’re mad, I don’t think there’s any hope for you.
Alice: Sure there is. I might need discipline. Got a paddle?
BLC: I have a blaster. And it’s not set on stun. Hint, hint.
Alice: Oooh, that’s an impressive blaster there. Where do you get all your cool storm trooper gear?
BLC: It’s standard issue. Is there a more competent interrogator somewhere? These questions suck.
Alice: Oh, I thought it was Pier One. Nevermind! What date would you like to set the wedding? Does Darth Vadar officiate for weddings?
BLC: *waves hand* This isn’t the trooper you’re looking for.
Alice: Hmm, you’re right, Wonderland would be a better choice of venue. The Queen of Hearts could do the honors. Watch out for you head. Oh – the interview. Um, do you have any family BLC?
BLC: Wonder what? No, I don’t have family. I’m a personality trapped in a fool’s body. How would I have a family.
Alice: He might have a family of voices in his head. It could happen. Don’t you worry, though, we’ll have lots of babies. At least a dozen.
BLC: Twindaddy is finished having children, and this is one thing we agree on. Besides, I’m in HIS body and don’t forget you’d have to do….that. Wait. Why am I even discussing this? Go away. You’re a freak.
Alice: Why, thank you! I guess that’s all the questions I have for today. Except – when are you going to post another advice column? There are so many stupid people out there. They need your help.
BLC: Every time I try Twindaddy gets drunk and I lose my focus. The little fucker is getting adept at thwarting me again.
Alice: Well, keep at it, trooper. The world needs you.
BLC: Whoa. You’re being…not freaky. I’m not sure how to respond to that.
At this point, BLC made a break for it. I will catch him later. Mwah! Anyway, let’s hope he comes back to stuphblog soon. You have questions? He’ll have answers. If he ever stops running.
Hey, Good News, Sparkleponies! I have decided to extend the deadline of the Sparklepony contest for a few reasons. 1) Peeps be busy. 2) I want to give everybody a chance. 3) I’ve only gotten in one entry so far. 4) Some of you have no idea wtf I am talking about but now you DO! It’s about this, folks.
You know you wants it. It is your preciousssssss. All you have to do, if you’ll remember, is write an obnoxious post acting like you are Sparky the won-der blog-ger! If you need ideas, just watch me. I’m obnoxious quite a lot. You knew that? Shut up.
Anyhoo, for all you speshul peeps out there, I am extending the deadline for the contest till September 30th. That’s right, more time to procrastinate – I mean, to get to work! You cannot let that jester djmatticus win so easily! Not when a poneh is on the line!
(this message brought to you by Alice, who might have snorted too much glue whilst glittering this plastic pony. Please humor her.)