Welcome to the Pine Valley Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
Updates on Friday every week!
I can tell you’re all really eager to get back to the boring undeveloped slobs of Generation 2, and I do so love to be a crowd pleaser.
Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles…
Real university, though, that I love.
Taking out the garbage, huh.
Penny: Thinking about it, too.
Penny: Love letters! Somebody likes me! I can leave fugface at the altar!
They’re almost certainly from Jerome.
Penny: I’m going to leave them unopened to preserve the waveform of the possibility that they are not.
Penny: Fuck. FUCK! I’m getting married. I’m getting married to a goofball with a tiny little penis. I give it a year before I’m a shrewish old harpy with SAGGY TITS.
Penny: I’d better hot it up while I still can.
Mrs. Flibble: .oO(PUT ME DOWN SO I CAN AVERT MY BEADY LITTLE EYES)
Penny: I bet he puts a dopey little baby inside me and wrecks my bitchin’ six-pack and delightful feminine curves.
Penny: Well, if he’s gonna destroy me, body and soul, I’m gonna make damn sure it takes as long as possible!
That’s the spirit!
Well. It’s better than the spirit you had before, anyway.
Oh, Penny. You’re definitely going to live.
Your five cohorts, though, they’re all pretty much fucked.
What? Why are you going to bed already?
Penny: Already yourself, it’s two in the morning!
WHAT?! We’re only ten pics in! What is this, Chapter One?
Alright, whatever. Now, for an experiment: a complete overview of Michael Whittaker in four uncaptioned images!
Pretty much says it all, don’t you think?
Michael: …so yeah, that’s why I figure you owe me five bucks. I’ll take it in cash. Like, right now. Because you live next door.
Kendra: Gonna burn that to heat your house?
Michael: I was gonna return it for a discount on tomorrow’s, but that’s not a bad idea!
Michael: So yeah. About that five bucks.
Kendra: I’m pretty sure you didn’t tell me your house had a cover charge.
Michael: It’s in the house charter.
Kendra: And I’m pretty sure we were on a date at the time.
Michael: I make a point of never mixing business with pleasure.
Kendra: Do I at least get a receipt?
Michael: Now you’re talking my language!
Michael: Got your receipt right here!
Kendra: That’s not a receipt! That’s a velvet box with a ring in it!
Michael: I hate paying for paper. It’s just trees, you know?
Michael: So yeah. Marry me? I’ll waive the five bucks.
Kendra: Did you make up this whole thing as an engagement stunt?
Michael: Kinda, although I could really use five bucks. Who couldn’t?
Michael: Naturally you’ll be signing a prenup that says I get all of my stuff, and all of your stuff, if we divorce. Or if you cheat on me. Or if I get sick of you.
Michael: I was wondering…
Kendra: No. You cannot have my Aspiration Points.
Michael: But I gave them to you!
Truly a match made in Accounting.
Kendra: Boy, it sure is chilly out here in the cold. And I can think of so many delightful ways to get warm…
Michael: Awesome! Go home and try them.
Michael: No, seriously. Go home! I don’t have enough newspapers to burn to keep both of us warm tonight.
Let’s repeat our experiment from earlier, shall we? It’s not very scientific if it’s not repeatable.
You’re acting like a changed man, Michael!
Michael: I’m a bit preoccupied, yeah.
I wouldn’t have expected it of you!
Michael: I know, but… man! The cost of cubic zirconium these days! I hope she doesn’t think she’s keeping that ring.
…I should have seen that coming.
Hey, a thought just occurred to me. What kind of stuff are you testing at work, anyway?
Michael: Oh… just… stuff. Materials. Synthetic materials.
They wouldn’t be the kinds of synthetic materials used to make, for example, cheap jewellery? Would they?
Michael: YOU CAN’T PROVE NOTHIN’.
Kendra: What a godawful hour this is. Who plays golf in the dark, anyway?
People who don’t have memberships.
Michael: If we’re gonna get married, she has got to replace that car.
That car belongs to the carpool lady.
Michael: I know. I can’t wait to see how Kendra explains it to her.
Clay: Good morning, Ms. Flint!
Kendra: Fuck off and die with your good morning, honkie. I’ve been up for eight hours. We can’t all have cushy government jobs.
Clay: Oh, what’s this? Is this a bill? Hey! It is a bill! Is it a bill from the postal service, for detaining a licensed mail carrier? I think it is!
Kendra: Fucking crypto-fascists!
Clay: Keep it up, honey! I’ve got a whole bag full of these!
Troy: Hi Ms. Flint! You probably don’t remember me, but we met at the golf course today!
Kendra: One more word and nobody will remember you.
Sultry! Now available in black!
Kendra: At about the eighth hole it occurred to me: fuck the entire world in fire forever.
Kendra: No, I don’t expect you to pay for the fire. No, I have no idea how much the entire world is insured for! And you’re kind of missing the point here.
Troy: SHE’LL DAMN WELL REMEMBER ME NOW
Kendra: …I’ll call you back later. Right now, I have to get as far away from the front windows as is humanly possible.
That’s not such a good idea.
Kendra: Fuck off. I’m pissed, I’m exhausted, and this is the only way I can get away from all these SimHuman cockroaches.
Yeah, but, see… if you don’t go clean this up, you’ll have normal cockroaches to deal with too.
Vyn GilsCarbo: Now, I know what you’re thinking…
Kendra: I sincerely doubt you’re capable of that.
What’re you doing?
Kendra: Taking the garbage in.
Kendra: Taking… the garbage… oh for fuck’s sake.
It’s okay. Sims who aren’t sleep-deprived pull that shit all the time.
I guess it’s a small price to pay for a garbage can that incinerates your trash as you lower it in.
Jill Custer: Hey Ms. Flint! Mind if I kick over your garbage can?
Kendra: Sure, hey, whatever. Let me know when you’re done so I can crawl inside and die.
Man. How do you get an ass like that?
Kendra: I think it was a Sims Resource download, wasn’t it? You used to pay their monthly fee.
Yeah. I was young and foolish once. Before I discovered the booty.
Kendra: So you discovered my booty before you discovered the booty?
Yarr. That be the way of it.
Kendra: Everything seems better after a good shower.
I agree! This is a tremendous improvement.
Kendra: -saturates the atmosphere with macaroni and cheese-
Careful! You almost got some in your mouth!
Better get a move on! That gas won’t pump itself!
Kendra: Sure it will. What decade are you living in?
Gina: So, do you think you can get me a discount on gas?
Kendra: Why? You expect this car to still be intact by the time we get there?
Seriously? YOU’RE giving her a three-thousand-Simoleon statue?!
Michael: Well DUH. We’re getting MARRIED. I’ll get it right back.
Movin’ on up in the loser world, I see.
Kendra: At least I’m not watching someone waste their life.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is one case where that response doesn’t work.
Penny: Fuuuuck. I had sex with THAT?
I’m still shocked myself.
Jerome: Me too!
Penny: HA HA HA NUMBER TEN MAIN STREET WEST I GET IT THAT’S HILARIOUS
Brooke: Aww, you didn’t tell me she was crazy, I wouldn’t have been so mean to her!
Which wouldn’t have been funny at all!
Brooke: Hello Penny! I’m Brooke! Remember me? Brooke? I’m the papergirl! I deliver the paper! We’ve met! I’m Brooke!
Penny: Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?
Penny: This is all an illusion. It’s a dream. I’m dreaming right now. Jerome isn’t even real. He’s just an undigested piece of cheese.
Apparently his bosses agree with that last assessment.
He just lost his job.
But apparently he’s happy about it?
Oh, hey, never mind. I’d be happy if my demotion came with a complimentary whore, too!
Dagmar: I’m the deputy mayor of Centreborough.
Does the deputy mayor usually come home with people who get demoted?
Dagmar: We’re short-staffed. Someone had to make sure he didn’t steal any office supplies.
Aww, don’t feel bad. Lots of people are complete losers.
Most of them aren’t loser enough to consider cheating on raw smoking hotness with a townie with a fivehead, though.
Look at her forehead. You’ll get the joke eventually.
Jerome: Wait. We’re understaffed, right? So if I kill the deputy mayor… one of the council members will get promoted… and one of their aides will become a council member… and it’ll all trickle down to me and I’ll get my old job back!
Awesome! I wonder if they’ll let you telecommute from jail?
Dagmar: Your neighbour has a statue on their porch. I think it’s a really expensive one. What’s up with that?
Jerome: Darned if I know. I hope the acid rain gets it.
Dagmar: Well personally, I hope it doesn’t, because Michael Whittaker works for the City of Centreborough and I suspect he might have purchased it with public funds.
Jerome: What makes you think Michael didn’t buy it with his own money?
Dagmar: You’ve met Michael, right? You do live here, don’t you?
Jerome: Nope. Some kid rubbed my lamp, I came out, and they wished me free.
Dagmar: That is the most unintentionally sexual Arabian Nights reference I’ve ever heard. I bet you’ve never even read it.
Jerome: I’m not a big patron of the fine arts. I prefer an afternoon of quiet contemplation, followed by an evening at my sketchpad designing skyscrapers.
Dagmar: Are you sure you’re not a middle-aged white dude?
Jerome: Are you sure you’re not the Wicked Witch of the West?
Dagmar: I like him.
He’s growing on me too.
Dagmar: I’m telling you, the price of gas is totally out of our control!
Jerome: Totally out of control is right.
No kidding, eh.
Jerome: Don’t worry, Mister Grivver. The pretty lady isn’t going to eat you.
Mister Grivver: .oO(I wasn’t worrying about that, but thanks for the nightmare fuel!)
Dagmar: You think I’m pretty?!
Jerome: Um, yeah. Except for that stupid hair.
Dagmar: Well let’s not start stating the obvious.
Dagmar: It’s been nice meeting you, Jerome. We’ll see about getting your job back.
NO. Just because she followed you home, don’t think I’m gonna let you keep her.
What are you doing here?
And what in particular are you plotting?
Daisy: I’m not sure yet. It’s a very complicated creative process.
(Hey, just a reminder – DAISY IS CECILIA. William’s evil half-sister. I know how quickly you people forget shit.)
Jerome: Hm. I guess my job performance HAS been substandard. Maybe I’d better brush up on my skills if I want to get repromoted.
Jerome: OR MAYBE ALIENS INSTEAD!
Oh, man. I love that one about the giant poo banana attacking the giant yellow balloon!
That was Philip K. Dick, right?
BEST PICTURE EVER.
I guess it’s better than what’s behind it, though.
Seriously dude, it’s not even the career you want.
Jerome: It’s the principle of the thing, though.
The only thing less useful than principles are vice-principles.
Jerome: What’s a vice-principle?
It’s when you try to indulge your vices in moderation. Like, if you were addicted to a life simulator, you’d try not to stay up until four in the morning playing it. And I ask you: where would we all be then?
All that from one stupid pun. I’m sorry. Really, I am.
But at least it was more entertaining than THIS.
…wait a minute. Who wrote that one?
Jerome: Let’s see. It says… Abigail Young.
Man. Ghostwriters work fast these days!
Gotta get me one. This damn journal is still thirty years behind…
This is how most girls perceive geeks.
Well, this is definitely an improvement!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH. I take it back! I take it back.
Lucas: Chiquita! You are taking the shit in the toilet! Much like how I am taking the shit on this journal! And the fans, they are loving it!
DON’T RUB IT IN.
Lucas: Your anal juices have the savour of a sweet desert flower, chiquita!
Deborah: Why can’t he be one of those jerks who leaves before you wake up?
Lucas: A truly epic bowel movement! Ballads will one day be sung about the dropping of your brown carpetbombs, chiquita!
GONNA KILL YOU GONNA KILL YOU GONNA KILL YOU BOTH
Deborah: Hey! What did I do?
THE INFECTION MUST BE CONTAINED
I’m not surprised, you were shitting for like an hour.
Lucas: No! Fool! Why are you rejecting the awesome squishy gift that nature has wrought inside of you?!
Deborah: If I kiss you goodbye, will you promise to go home?
Lucas: I have many homes, chiquita. A part of my sexy, sexy soul resides in the hearts of every one of my conquests.
Deborah: Just… just get out of my house, okay?
Deborah: When this is over I think I’m going to shower forever.
And it will never, ever be enough.
Please don’t tell me you almost made a booty call just now.
Deborah: My self-control is weak, I know.
No. Your chin is weak. Your self-control is fucking nonexistent.
Deborah: “Dear MisSim: I’ve recently been having awesome sex, a lot of awesome, awesome sex, but I’m not sure if I should continue with it.”
Deborah: “It’s with this weird, vaguely Latin dude who constantly begs me to let him watch me shit. Is that normal? Having a shit fetish? And he smells funny and I think the Maker has it in for him. Sincerely, On the Edge of My Toilet Seat.”
MisSim: “Dear Edge, stay the fuck away from my Lucas!”
Deborah: DAMMIT! It’d be easier to control myself if you’d give me ANYTHING ELSE TO DO!
Well, you could go outside and get your face eaten off, I guess.
That would at least be fun for me.
Or you could become a serial killer, because these original townies all must die.
Deborah: You can’t make me!
FIFTY KINDS OF NOT TRUE!
Deborah: No matter how much I scrub I can’t get rid of the stench of his approval!
Deborah: Okay, fuck this. If I’m gonna be a filthy whore, I might as well do it properly.
I swear to… me, if that’s Lucas you’re calling…
Deborah: Keep your panties on, would you?
HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT
Deborah: Hi. Is this William Sharpe? Hi! It’s Deborah, we met a few years ago. Want to come over and have sex with me?
William: Do Latinos love bowel movements?! I’ll be right over!
William: HooooWEEEE! You’re like a sexy sandwich on top of a tray made of SEXY!
Deborah: You’re… well… more like a bagel of sexy with a decent spread of sexy cream cheese. But that’s still pretty sexy!
Deborah: Are you trying to eavesdrop on us?!
Phoebe: No! GOD no! I’m sorry! I’m waiting for you leave so I can rummage through your trash.
William: Stop by my place later, and you can rummage in my pants.
Phoebe: For trash?
William: You know what they say: all that glitters is not gold, but Captain Sparkles will be whatever you want him to be if you let him into your vagina.
Deborah: Who says that?
William: Me! Didn’t you recognize my voice?
William: Great, so basically I’m shitting outside now.
Deborah: Hi, Lucas… yeah… yeah… you want to what? Yeah… yeah… okay…
Deborah: You’re fucking sick.
Deborah: Wholesome interactions!
William: How bizzare and novel!
Deborah: No, seriously! She was taking her garbage out of the can and bringing it back inside!
William: So? I do that all the time. What’s your point?
Deborah: Check out this tit enhancement angle.
William: Doesn’t do anything for me from here. How’s it look from where you are, dude?
Definitely enhanced, for sure.
Deborah: Dress soup downtown!
William: Only if you ask nicely!
Deborah: Why are we dancing without any music?
William: I didn’t know there was an alternative.
It’s the little things that give their world its slow creeping sense of horrific wrongness.
Deborah: Kiss me, for tomorrow we may die!
William: I’ll kiss you, but speak for yourself.
I hope this works out for you, Deborah.
Deborah: Aw, thanks!
Yeah, his girlfriends tend to end up dead. It’s what I call a win-win scenario.
Deborah: How is death a win for me?!
For you? Who cares about you? I get two wins, because I’m god!
Deborah: Oh, William… you’re the Williamest man I’ve ever met.
William: Man, you do come on strong, don’t you?!
Deborah: You really remind me of that lesbian girl’s sister, though.
William: Oh god you mentioned lesbians I’m so horny right now!
Deborah: Mmm, oh, William, you taste like sweet sweet capitalism!
William: Yeah baby, how’s about I make a deposit on your vagina bank?
Deborah: You mean in my vagina bank?
William: I AM NOT HAVING A BABY WITH YOU
Deborah: Sounds like someone needs a good solid fucking before he changes his mind.
William: You washed your genitals after Lucas left, right? I mean I know he’s always asking girls to do that, but I wanna make sure I don’t get any El Lucador on Captain Sparkles.
William: These old houses are bland as fuck.
Deborah: Yeah, I can’t wait to spruce it up a little.
William: Why? It suits you.
William: Hey, how come your bedspread’s brown?
Deborah: Lucas. I don’t wanna talk about it.
William: .oO(Why am I trying to fuck this boring girl? I’m better than this!)
Even my camera doesn’t want to focus on her.
Deborah: What? What did you say? Who’re you talking to?
William: .oO(DUDE! Use the psychic link! She can fucking hear you!)
William: I’d totally still bone my fifteen-year-old ex-wife.
Luckily for William, Deborah has no perversion aversion.
Deborah: Staying the night?
William: I fear for my penis when I sleep in Abigail’s house.
Deborah: Easy there, big fella. You can’t hide under the covers forever!
William: Don’t wanna get up.
Deborah: Why not?
William: Don’t wanna kill anyone.
Deborah: You think you’ll have to?
William: Don’t wanna Pine Valley!
Deborah: C’mon, buddy. Time to get up, go to work, and keep the gravediggers in business!
William: One last kiss?
Deborah: To remember me by?
William: Yes, so I don’t make this mistake again.
William: One last fuck?
Deborah: To remember me by?
William: No, to tide me over ’til noon.
Deborah: Goodbye, William.
William: Goodbye, Deborah’s vagina!
Well, that was torturously dull. And guess what’s next? More Lucas! I may gag.