Steven, Mayor of Big City A |
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Steven
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The Big City A Wall
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoSometimes this Mayor has to have the wisdom of Solomon in addition to all her regular attributes—great looks, a terrific sense of humor, fabulous red hair and an amazing collection of shoes. You just never know when some scandal is going to erupt, forcing you to make those tough decisions. Kevin Gallager seemed like a normal suburban husband. He lived in our suburb Lil Slice of Hell with his wife MaryKay and their two children Madison and Tyler. Kevin worked at a very large electronics company as a salesman. As a part of his job, every Sunday night he kissed his wife and kids good-bye, got into his company car and headed out on the road for a week of selling electronics parts. He returned the following Sunday afternoon in time to mow the lawn, with toys for the children and a little something in the order of sexy lingerie for MaryKay. To their neighbors, they were a perfectly normal family. MaryKay was vice president of the local PTA and Kevin was a part time Little League coach for Tyler’s team. They had a great house in a nice neighborhood and seemed to have it all. But the truth was Kevin’s job didn’t require any travelling at all. In fact, he travelled no farther than his apartment in downtown Persiphonia where his wife Karen and his son Craig would be anxiously waiting for him to return from his weekly business trip with toys for Craig, something sexy for Karen, the Sunday papers and a dozen bagels. They spent the rest of the afternoon in bed reading the papers and enjoying a lazy brunch. To the doorman and their neighbors in the building where they lived, they were a perfectly normal family and seemed to have it all. The problem was Kevin had too much. One family too much. It all came to a head when Karen drove out to Lil Slice of Hell to visit a friend while Kevin was away. In a twist of fate, she ended up having a fender bender car accident with Mary Kay. No one was hurt, but while they were waiting for the police they began to talk. They found it amusing that they both had husbands named Kevin Gallagher who both were travelling salesmen working for an electronics firm. Then, they shared family pictures and the bottom dropped out of Kevin’s world. Both pictures featured a smiling Kevin and his family. By the time the police arrived, a huge catfight had broken out and the police had to break it up. An officer was sent to Kevin’s office where he was taken into custody and brought before my court. This was a hard one for me. While we clearly don’t condone bigamy, there were certainly more people to consider than just Kevin the old horndog that he was. Putting him in jail would serve no purpose. Both of his families would suffer from the lack of income and insurance. And if I annulled the second marriage to Karen, she and her son would no longer be on his insurance policy and her child would be deprived of a father. There didn’t seem to be a simple answer. So I decided to leave Kevin in jail for a few days while I gave it some thought. Finally, I decided that while bigamy is illegal in Persiphonia as well as Lil Slice of Hell, I would let this one slide with a stiff penalty. Since Kevin decided to have two families, I ordered that Karen and her son move into the house with MaryKay and her children—bringing Kevin’s family together under one roof. This would allow him to spend more time with his children. It would also save him a lot of money on the apartment on Persiphonia. Both wives and all the children would be listed on both his medical and life insurance policies equally. This would also give Kevin more time to serve out his 2 thousand hours of community service—working as an electrician for Habitat for Humanity helping to build houses for the poor. Of course, managing two wives under one roof wasn’t going to be easy, but tough. Kevin made his bed, now it was time to lie in it. It has come to my attention that a better census taking would be more likely to catch this type of situation, and so I have begun the 2010 census a little early so that it could be conducted more carefully. I will be sending you a census taker to get your census underway as well. I have no doubt that there are other horndogs like Kevin out there. Let’s find them and bring them to justice. As today is the birthday of Oscar Hammerstein, the Persiphonia Players will be coming to your city to present their production of South Pacific. We hope you enjoy. I have been known to play the part of Bloody Mary on occasion. However, the census has me way too busy to make the trip. Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. I am back up to 1000 connections, but have started dumping 2x weekly poppers. I ONLY accept cities who send a FRIEND REQUEST. Don’t ask here and don’t send me a message to my inbox. It can’t keep up with it as it is. ONLY friend requests will be considered in the order they arrive. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or as close to midnight as we remember to. AND NOW FOR THE LATEST NEWS … Tales of Persiphonia is now online! I am in the process of adding all of the tales from way back in the beginning, along with my personal tips for playing the game and other cool Persiphonia stuff. You can find us at http://persiphonia.wordpress.com/ Drop by often. Leave comments. We love to hear from you! I am almost up to date adding the old ones to the blog. Sincerely yours, Persiphone Hellecat, Mayor, Empress, Queen and Exaulted Grand Poobah of Persiphonia, Land of the Free and Home of the Bipolar. (We have an excellent medical plan that includes prescriptions!) A PROUD NO NUKES CITY!!! We are now SOLAR!!! Let the sun shine in!
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoPip Pip Cheerio and all that stuff. Today is International Fake British Accent Day and we in Persiphonia are celebrating to the max. Tea, brollys, lifts, crisps, bangers and mash, telly—the whole works. In fact, we Persiphonians are mad as a box of frogs for this day. But today, we have decided to take it one step farther, my droogs. (The first person to write and correctly that very British reference will win a prize!) In an effort to raise our cash flow, we have decided to turn our city into a monarchy. Henceforth, we shall be known as the Persiphonian Empire. As an Empire, we are entitled to sell land and titles. As of today, we will be selling one square inch plots of Persiphonian soil along with the title of your choice. Of course, you are free to name your own tiny little country. Want to be the Baron of Pettiford? It sounds a little swishy, but it’s entirely your decision. How about the Countess of Havisham? Put on your 60 year old wedding gown, sit in the attic and knock yourself out. Lord, Lady, Viscountess, Marchioness, Count … the choice is yours. And all it will cost you is a mere half a million dollars. Now that may seem like a fairly stiff price to pay for your own place that’s the size of a book of matches, but it’s actually a tremendous bargain. That inch of soil and all its mineral rights all the way to the center of the earth belong to you. When you add that up, it really is a ton of land. Acres probably. Well, a LOT anyway. And with it, you will get a very lovely downloadable certificate that you can print out and hang up for all to see. AND the land and title are yours in perpetuity. Imagine after you die when your children fight over that little inch of land and the judge decides to divide it equally between your six children. Makes you chuckle, doesn’t it? What a great addition for your resume. What a terrific way to break the ice at parties. What a fantastic way to pick up girls! They will fall all over you when you tell them that along with your good looks and mid three figure bank account, you can offer them the title of the Baroness of Pettiford. Heck, you can even demand a dowry from her father for taking her off his hands. All you need to complete the picture is an ascot, a smoking jacket, a pipe and a hunting dog snuggled at your feet before a roaring fire. For an additional $49.95. we sell a special “Seated Title Kit†that includes the ascot, the pipe and the smoking jacket. You are on your own for the fire and the hunting dog. Try the local pound. Name the dog something classy like Chauncey or Toby and constantly add “old boy†to the end of its name. Instant Count. It will drive the ladies wild. Today, we are sending out representatives from The Persiophonian Empire to visit your city to discuss this amazing offer. Of course, they will be talking with a very fake British accent. If you’re lucky, our Minister of Silly Walks may even drop by personally. Of course, they will all be outfitted in Saville Row pinstripe suits and very proper bowler hats. They will be able to show you a copy of the lovely certificate you can download. And by the way, the prize mentioned above is one free title of your choice! For entertainment today, we are sending along a copy of Robin Hood starring Kevin Costner. Now everybody knows I love the guy, but how stupid was it that everyone in Sherwood Forest had an English accent except for Robin Hood himself? It’s a pretty bad movie, but it sure beats Waterworld. Well I must dash now. It’s nearly time for Fawlty Towers on BBC. And after that, a steamy episode of Footballers Wives. And of course, an episode or two of Hell’s Kitchen. My but that Gordon Ramsey turns me on when he talks dirty. Abysinnia! (That means see ya later!)\ Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. I am back up to 1000 connections, but have started dumping 2x weekly poppers. I ONLY accept cities who send a FRIEND REQUEST. Don’t ask here and don’t send me a message to my inbox. It can’t keep up with it as it is. ONLY friend requests will be considered in the order they arrive. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or as close to midnight as we remember to. AND NOW FOR THE LATEST NEWS … Tales of Persiphonia is now online! I am in the process of adding all of the tales from way back in the beginning, along with my personal tips for playing the game and other cool Persiphonia stuff. You can find us at http://persiphonia.wordpress.com/ Drop by often. Leave comments. We love to hear from you! I am almost up to date adding the old ones to the blog. Sincerely yours, Persiphone Hellecat, Mayor, Empress, Queen and Exaulted Grand Poobah of Persiphonia, Land of the Free and Home of the Bipolar. (We have an excellent medical plan that includes prescriptions!) A PROUD NO NUKES CITY!!! We are now SOLAR!!! Let the sun shine in! And by the way—has anyone located the real Ace Murphy yet????
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoToday we have been officially afforded another Nobel Prize. This time in the field of Garbology. Osgood Bloomberg PhD (another one of those snobby fake PhD kind of doctors!) has won the coveted award for his work in answering that age old question “Where do all the hats, umbrellas, newspapers and other stuff that blow away during wind and rain end up?†Well thanks to Ozzie as he is known to friends, we now have the definitive answer. Late last year while hiking in the snowy Northern countryside of Persiphonia, Ozzie accidently stumbled quite literally upon a sink hole. To be more specific, he stumbled INTO a sink hole. He was trapped there for several days, surviving on nothing more than snow and the occasional squirrel that fell into the hole, before his wife Matilda realized he was missing and called the police. Ozzie isn’t a very exciting guy. Anyway, as the snow began to melt, Ozzie began to discover that he wasn’t alone in the hole. Aside from the occasional squirrel, he found literally hundreds of hats, umbrellas, newspapers, plastic bags and other windblown items. This got Ozzie thinking. When the snow melted and spring arrived, Ozzie invested in some spelunking (man, I LOVE that word!) and some rock climbing stuff. He began spending his spare time down in the hole, digging deeper and deeper, finding more and more items the deeper he went. When he got down far enough to find a newspaper announcing the beginning of the Great Depression of 1929, he knew he was on to something. Soon he applied to Persiphonia University (Good Ole PU) and got a 50 million dollar grant to study the subject. And soon he was digging his way through the history of garbage. The things he found were truly amazing. From Lincoln’s stovepipe hat to Washington’s three corner hat to Mary Poppins’ umbrella. When he got to a batch of notes that Plato must have had blow away on his way to a lecture, one thing was clear. This truly WAS the place where hats, umbrellas and other items end up on windy days. Soon, archaeologists and garbologists from all over the world were rushing to Persiphonia for their chance to sink into the history of the world through its garbage. And I didn’t even know we had a sink hole! I did, however recover a very fine picture hat that I wore at my inaguration on a very windy day in 19 (coughs coughs). Too bad it wasn’t still wearable. Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. I am back up to 1000 connections, but have started dumping 2x weekly poppers. I ONLY accept cities who send a FRIEND REQUEST. Don’t ask here and don’t send me a message to my inbox. It can’t keep up with it as it is. ONLY friend requests will be considered in the order they arrive. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or as close to midnight as we remember to. AND NOW FOR THE LATEST NEWS … Tales of Persiphonia is now online! I am in the process of adding all of the tales from way back in the beginning, along with my personal tips for playing the game and other cool Persiphonia stuff. You can find us at http://persiphonia.wordpress.com/ Drop by often. Leave comments. We love to hear from you! I am almost up to date adding the old ones to the blog. Sincerely yours, Persiphone Hellecat, Mayor, Empress, Queen and Exaulted Grand Poobah of Persiphonia, Land of the Free and Home of the Bipolar. (We have an excellent medical plan that includes prescriptions!) A PROUD NO NUKES CITY!!! We are now SOLAR!!! Let the sun shine in! Come back soon, Ray! We love you!
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoIt’s going to take Sandy Kleinmeyer a very long time to live down the events of yesterday afternoon. While her husband Greg was out on the golf course, Sandy was home getting ready for a dinner party at the Persiphonia Country Club. She was also busy doing laundry for the family in her brand new Maytag oversized front load washer and dryer hidden behind doors in her newly decorated kitchen. She was just about to put in a load of the kids jeans when she remembered that Greg had reminded her before he left that he had no clean black socks to wear with his tuxedo to the party. So she went back up to their bedroom to pull some out of the hamper. After the load finished washing, she tossed everything into the dryer and went upstairs to take her shower and set her hair for the evening. She had a beautiful new black cocktail dress and she was going all out to look great. After toweling off, she stepped into a black thong and put on her best back lace bra. Then she sat down at her dressing table and set her hair. Just for good measure, she decided to give herself one of those quick facial masks before she did her makeup—just so her skin looked perfect. As soon as she had applied the mask, she heard the buzzer from the dryer go off. With the kids already at Grandma’s for the night and Greg still playing golf, she decided to run down quickly in her underwear and pull the clothes out so she could fold them while they were still warm. A good homemaker, Sandy would never send her children to school in wrinkled clothes. As she pulled the clothes out and tossed them in the basket, she realized one of Greg’s black dress socks was missing. She searched the dryer to no avail. Then she figured she must have missed it when she put the wet clothes in the dryer, so she opened the front load washer and peeked in. There it was—trapped way in the back. Being very little, Sandy tried but she couldn’t reach it. So she decided to use her knee to boost herself up. Before she knew what happened, Sandy Kleinmeyer was trapped—a victim of her brand new bright red Maytag frontloading washer. The more she struggled, the more her body twisted and the more the washer seemed to swallow her up. She finally decided the best thing to do was just to wait. Greg would be home soon. She would just call out to him and he would come and help her. He wouldn’t be much longer. The wait was really only about a half an hour, but it seemed like hours before she heard the front door open and Greg call out to her. She yelled back that she was in the kitchen and she needed his help. Greg came in and looked around—not seeing his wife. Then he realized where her call for help was coming from. He bent down and looked inside the washer, totally shocked to see his nearly naked wife, hair in curlers and what looked like clown makeup on her face. He tried to get her out, but she was stuck. That’s when Sandy realized that Greg hadn’t come home alone. Two of his golf buddies—which wasn’t easy especially since they’d already had a few beers while playing golf, the three of them tried, but there was nothing they could do to extract her from the jaws of the washing machine. Finally, Greg had nothing else to do, and five minutes later, the fire department Rescue Squad arrived on the scene with lights flashing and sirens blaring. While Sandy wept, they dragged their equipment through her gorgeous brand new kitchen and used their Jaws of Life tools to tear the brand new machine in half and pull her out. That’s when she saw the flash and realized that a local reporter listening in on the police band radio had followed the Rescue Squad to see if there was a story he might want to publish. After covering herself with a towel, Sandy went upstairs, too upset to attend the party. This morning, when she went out on the porch to pick up their Sunday paper, there she was—half naked, curlers tumbling out of her hair and tears streaked down the white facial cream—under the headline “Kinky Housewife’s Surprise For Hubby Goes Awry.†The Kleinmeyer family is currently seeking a new city to live in. She is positive that she will never live it down, and she probably won’t. Perhaps your city didn’t carry this story in their papers and you might have a place for this nice suburban family of five to live. Graig is the General Manager of a large local grocery store chain. Sandy is a former stewardess. She has also served as president of our local PTA. If it is entertainment you want, I am sending along a copy of the Sex and the City Movie. Funny, stuff like that never happens to Carrie and her friends. Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. I am back up to 1000 connections, but have started dumping 2x weekly poppers. I ONLY accept cities who send a FRIEND REQUEST. Don’t ask here and don’t send me a message to my inbox. It can’t keep up with it as it is. ONLY friend requests will be considered in the order they arrive. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or as close to midnight as we remember to. AND NOW FOR THE LATEST NEWS … Tales of Persiphonia is now online! I am in the process of adding all of the tales from way back in the beginning, along with my personal tips for playing the game and other cool Persiphonia stuff. You can find us at http://persiphonia.wordpress.com/ Drop by often. Leave comments. We love to hear from you! I am almost up to date adding the old ones to the blog. Sincerely yours, Persiphone Hellecat, Mayor, Empress, Queen and Exaulted Grand Poobah of Persiphonia, Land of the Free and Home of the Bipolar. (We have an excellent medical plan that includes prescriptions!) A PROUD NO NUKES CITY!!! We are now SOLAR!!! Let the sun shine in! Come back soon, Ray! We love you!
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoPersiphonia now has 20 criminals, and believe it or not, the Mayor’s mother is one of them. Kind of. For many years, my mother has owned a travel agency in Persiphonia called “Get Outta Here!†With her getting older and more and more people buying their airline tickets online, she decided to downsize her business and semi retire. She decided to take her office which was two storefronts side by side and rent out one side—keeping the smaller side open to handle friends and old clients. With both a front door and a back door leading to the parking lot, the office she was renting was very convenient and would rent easily. She rented the other side to a woman who said she planned to open a nail salon. Since there are none in the vicinity, Mom thought it would be a great success and immediately signed the lease. The following day, brown paper went up on the windows with a big sign saying “Coming Soon Tough As Nails Manicure Salon!†Behind the blocked door, you could hear the buzz of saws and the banging of hammers. Mom assumed that they were working hard to completely redecorate the office and turn it into a very beautiful salon. A couple weeks went by, and the salon had not yet opened. Mom began to notice men coming and going through the blocked off door. She just figured they were construction workers and painters. When she asked her tenant when the salon was opening, the answer was always “very soonâ€. The furniture hadn’t arrived yet. They were waiting for equipment. There was always some reason why the salon wasn’t ready yet. Then one day Mom was sitting in her office talking on the telephone when she looked through her glass door just in time to see a lot of our policemen kicking in the front door of the nail salon with their guns drawn. She watched in horror as about a dozen young women in various stages of dress were led out of the nail salon, followed by a number of men, also in various stages of dress. Not knowing what was going my mother hung up the phone and arrived at the door just as a cop was about to enter her office. It seems there never was any nail salon. The sawing and hammering was workmen turning the office into several small stalls. At night, beds and other items were brought in through the back door after my mother went home at night. To put it gently, the office had been turned into a massage parlor. To put it in more precise terms, it was a brothel. I am happy to report that most of the “customers†were from cities outside of Persiphonia. Our guys aren’t like that. And when the police asked the women who was the owner of the building, she pointed to the travel agency and said “her!†That was the point when my little old mother went from innocent travel agent to hardcore Madam. Despite her protests that the Mayor was her daughter, she was hauled downtown, photographed, fingerprinted and tossed into a holding cell with about a dozen hookers. It took a couple of hours before they got around to allowing her the one phone call that Persiphonian Law requires. It seems that the law was a little vague as to how soon they had to allow that call. I’ve fixed that law now. You must get your phone call within one hour. I’m also working up a set of rights for the police to read to people they arrest. Hey, this is all new to us. We only got our first criminals two days ago! I’m going to need some time to work this stuff out. Well, I hurried down to the police station with a copy of the ease and rescued my mother. However, it was not in time to keep the morning papers from printing her picture and calling her The Persiphonian Madam. I’m not going to let her off the hook easily. In fact, I’m having a copy framed to hang in my house. Hopefully it will make her a much nicer person during family dinners. And if things get really bad, I can always threaten to send her back to jail. Since then, she has rented the place out to a men’s gym. They have glass windows and a glass door in the hallway between her office and the gym and she seems to enjoy watching. She has moved her desk to get a better view, and lately she’s going to work a lot more often. As long as she’s busy and staying out of trouble, it’s fine with me. Today I will be sending a very nice looking policeman/woman to your town to help you seek out secret houses of ill repute. This officer is well versed in these matters and will help you start your very own Vice Squad. For entertainment, a video of that Ethel Merman classic ‘Call Me Madam’. Whenever my mother starts giving me a hard time, I pop it in the DVD player and she shuts up immediately. Not being mean, but sometimes it’s great to have something to hold over someone’s head! Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. We have dumped a bunch of connex AGAIN. I ONLY accept cities who send a FRIEND REQUEST. Don’t ask here and don’t send me a message to my inbox. It can’t keep up with it as it is. ONLY friend requests will be considered in the order they arrive. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. I am through deleting the 0 and 1 time per week poppers and am ready to start on the 2x a week. We autopop every night at midnight or as close to midnight as we remember to. AND NOW FOR THE LATEST NEWS … Tales of Persiphonia is now online! I am in the process of adding all of the tales from way back in the beginning, along with my personal tips for playing the game and other cool Persiphonia stuff. You can find us at http://persiphonia.wordpress.com/ Drop by often. Leave comments. We love to hear from you! I am almost up to date adding the old ones to the blog. Sincerely yours, Persiphone Hellecat, Mayor, Empress, Queen and Exaulted Grand Poobah of Persiphonia, Land of the Free and Home of the Bipolar. (We have an excellent medical plan that includes prescriptions!) A PROUD NO NUKES CITY!!! We are now SOLAR!!! Let the sun shine in! Come back soon, Ray! We love you! 5 Posts Available
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