Rick, Mayor of Logansland |
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LoganslandMayor
Rick
United States
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The Logansland Wall
Charie D. La Marr, mayor ofPersiphoniaover 16 years agoI cannot believe the audacity of the former Mayor Mason of Lil Slice of Hell—now extortionist on the lam in the warmth and sun of Tahiti. Today I got an official diplomatic pouch from Tahiti. Somehow the former Mayor has made some connections over there and was able to send me a letter and a photo through diplomatic channels. Maybe they think he’s the Great White God or something. He probably dazzles them with cheap card tricks. The picture was positively disgusting. There was Mayor Mason wearing some kind of a sarong, brown as a berry and lazing on a hammock drinking a Mai Tai with about ten umbrellas in it. In the back, my former secretary Bambi Big Boobs was fanning him with a palm frond. She was wearing what I can only describe as two Band-Aids, a rubber band and a fig leaf. Across the bottom he wrote “Greetings from Sunny Tahiti. Wish you were here. No I don’t.†I was steaming as I opened the letter to read it. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to hand over the numbers to the accounts in the Grand Caymans and turn himself in. “Dear Persiphone, 

As I write this letter I am not regretting my decision to screw over everyone in my city and you in the slightest. Partially because here I get two massages a day, plus the ones from your fabulous ex-assistant, and also because I found out that she doesn't mind if I sleep around. I do, however, regret taking the elk's head, which seems to be tainted with bad mojo from you and my citizens. I would send it to you, but Barbie, who assures me her breast are 70% real, says we should just burn it. Sorry.

I have every intention of returning to my beloved city, if only to be hated and abhorred by all my hellions. I will do this once my team of lawyers, one of which assured me he passed his online law school test, assures me that I will not be sentenced to a long stay in prison, max five . I wonder if they will allow me to be mayor in prison?

 Yours truly, Mayor Mason Duwayne Martinez

 P.S. Could you send me a copy of that video? I really want to see it
.†Is he for real? First of all Barbie is not 70% real. There is more silicone in her than in a whole Hooters Restaurant. I hope they bust. Preferably when she is in the ocean because she can’t swim. She just floats on those water wings she carries around on her chest. I have been put in quite a spot by Mayor Mason’s departure. First of all, finding a replacement is not easy. I considered Feral, but Lil Slice of Hell plays a very important part in the strategic defense of our city. Lil Slice of Hell is an island that basically provides Persiphonia against attack from the sea. The Lil Hellions are our army. Feral would probably trade it for a couple pizzas, two tickets to see Limp Bizkit and a keg of Budweiser. Caroline Kennedy contacted me about the position, but she just doesn’t have any experience, and my former girlfriend from college Laura Bush called and told me her husband is still unemployed. Not a chance. I also heard from the former disgraced governers of New York, New Jersey and Illinois, Elliot Spitzer, Jim Mc Greevey and Rod Blagojevich respectively. Hell no. So for now, I will have to just keep an eye on Lil Slice of Hell myself. I sent Mayor Mason a little something back via the diplomatic pouch. It’s labeled “Mayor Mason’s Magic Showâ€, but when he puts it on, it’s really a DVD of Twilight. I hope it makes him sick. And I got Rob Pattinson to autograph a photo to Mayor Mason, my #1 fan. That should rattle his Mai Tai. Don’t you worry Mayor Mason. I have people on the job chasing you down at this very minute. I have borrowed a couple Navy Seals. And Canada has loaned me a couple Royal Canadian Mounted Police. They always get their man. And their women with fake boobs too. Be afraid. Very afraid. Today I am sending out representatives to search for a new Mayor for Lil Slice of Hell. Feel free to keep them. We have plenty. And for entertainment, a copy of Mayor Mason’s photo. Put it on your dartboard. He is toast! Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. We have reached 1000 connections, but I am checking now and deleting those who do not autopop daily, so wait about a week and ask us again. I will ONLY connect to cities who send a friend request that contains the NAME OF THEIR CITY- not just ‘Metroâ€. I have already deleted over 150 names and replaced them and continue to do so a little at a time. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or whenever 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 agoMayor Mason of our lovely suburb of Lil Slice Of Hell is a very talented magician. Every once in a while, he tries out new tricks by putting on a very large stage show at a theatre out in the suburbs. It is usually quite an entertaining event—but not quite like it was this time. For the finale of the show, Mason had four well endowed female assistants lock him into a wooden box and cover it with chains while several audience members stood on the stage and watched. The only thing that you could see was his right hand, sticking out of a hole in the box. Then, he was hoisted up in the air by a thick rope that was soaked in gasoline. As the box dangled there, Mason’s right hand reached out of the box holding something very small. Suddenly, a flame appeared. He was holding a cigarette lighter. He reached up and lit the rope on fire. Everyone watched in horror as the rope suspending him began to burn. You could see threads of the rope unraveling as the fire got brighter. Everyone watched—thinking that somehow he would escape from the box and put the fire out before he fell. But that didn’t happen. You could see the box bouncing around as though he was struggling to escape. Soon the top of the box was on fire, too. There were nervous gasps in the audience. A minute later, the rope let go and the burning box plunged to the stage. Stagehands rushed out and sprayed it with a fire extinguisher. All that was left was the charred remains of the rope. Mason was nowhere to be seen. We all glanced around the audience—expecting him to pop out of somewhere with a flourish. And we waited. And we waited. No Mason. A few people in the audience began to cry. Several had to be escorted from the theatre. The stagehands began to pick through the rubble, looking to see if the squashed and burned remains of Mason was there. They found nothing, except an envelope addressed to me. Someone walked out and handed it to me. Everyone laughed—expecting it to be some kind of a map or a note saying where we could find him. Well, in a way it was. According to the letter, Mayor Mason hasn’t paid his personal taxes in several years. He owes literally millions to the government. In addition, serious gambling and drinking habits had forced him to begin embezzeling momey from the city of Lil Slice of Hell. Millions and millions of dollars. This stunt was his final farewell. He was on his way to Tahiti with a stop in the Grand Caymans first to pick up the millions of dollars he had hidden in unmarked accounts. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was having an affair with my newest secretary and she was on the plane with him. I didn’t recognize her, but she was one of the four well endowed assistants who locked him in the box. I immediately called the airport and tried to stop the flight, but it was too late. Mason, all of Lil Slice of Hell’s money and my secretary were off into the night with no chance of extradition. The city of Lil Slice of Hell was bankrupt. It’s Mayor and my secretary took everything—including the elk head that was given to me by Sarah Palin that I hung in his office. The creep. Naturally, I have taken control of the city and incorporated it into Persiphonia. Of course, it will mean some budget cuts for a while until we get everything under control, but Persiphonians are strong and sharing people. We will get by. Hey, all I lost was another dumb blonde secretary with fake boobs that were smarter than she was. If you should be planning a vacation to Tahiiti some time in the future, and run across the former Mayor Mason and my former secretary, please give him a message for me. In a place that really hurts. Hard. Today, I am sending each city in Metropolis an auditor to check their books and make sure that there is no one trying to embezzle money from their fine city. For entertainment, I will send along a video tape of Mayor Mason’s departure, because it really was kind of cool. Please remember to POP or Entertain us back often when you see us down. We have reached 1000 connections, but I am checking now and deleting those who do not autopop daily, so wait about a week and ask us again. I will ONLY connect to cities who send a friend request that contains the NAME OF THEIR CITY- not just ‘Metroâ€. I have already deleted over 150 names and replaced them and continue to do so a little at a time. I intend to give preference to people who have loyally popped Persiphonia though they were non-connections. We autopop every night at midnight or whenever 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! 2 Posts Available
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