Welcome to the Clover County Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.

Updates Monday, Wednesday, and Friday every week!

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One hundred and fifty! Isn’t as big a deal as one hundred.

No. No toddlers. Let’s do something more risqué today.

LESS RISQUÉ. LESS RISQUÉ.

Veronica: .oO(Hey, you’re back!)

I’ve been scared straight.

Poppy: Stop watching me crap or I’ll scare you gay.

Brooke: Can that actually happen?

I dunno. Are you gay?

Brooke: No?

Well, you’ve seen a lot of scary shit on your route, so I’m guessing no.

Poppy: I love the way that ring looks on your finger.
Michael: That’s sweet.

Poppy: I love the way that brush looks in your mouth.
Michael: Thrts crrpy.

Poppy: Porkchops for breakfast, huh? Livin’ the dream.

Kent: No, I was making your kid her favourite porkchop milk bottle.

Poppy: It definitely goes right through her.

Poppy: THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE

Poppy: THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE!
Michael: I thought you were done with the whole gay thing.

Raising kids could turn anyone against the heteronormative ideal.

Michael: Did we lose the thrill, or was it actually never here?

Kent: I didn’t think you knew my nickname.

Michael: I want a nickname. I’m thinking “the bomb.”
Poppy: Why? Because you want someone to set you up?

Michael: Look up “Zero Wing” for me, I didn’t get that reference.
Kent: THIS ISN’T MACADAM

Michael: I was about to complain about the anachronism joke, and then I saw my car.

If you’re really keen on avoiding anachronism jokes, swerve sharply to the right.

Michael: God told me to run you over and I didn’t.
Ms. Crumplebottom: YOU DO WHAT GOD TELLS YOU YOUNG MAN

Watching her knit, you almost imagine she’d be a demon in the sack.

Michael: I most certainly do not.

Michael: Yeah, come on over! You’d be great for business! Hot ladies and books go together like hot ladies and books!

Abigail: I’d argue, but my thought balloons don’t lie.

Michael: Neither do mine.

Abigail: So I’ve been demoted to extra?

Hell no. It’s more like Michael has, and can’t sustain a chapter on his own.

Abigail: I can dig it.

Michael: Brilliant scientist and world saviour Abigail Young! Sell this man a book.

Abigail: I thought you invited me here to gawk, not to take advantage of my intellect. I can do that on my own.

Abigail: It’s beautiful out! Today is a day for love!
Michael: Well, I’d love it if you could explain what that guy behind you is doing.

Jack: MOTIVATED TO BUY BOOKS BY TITS
Abigail: I guess I can’t fault your business logic.

Cameron: Hey, buddy! Need more motivation?

Abigail: Oh, while I’m here – I’m writing a book of my own about awesome science stuff, could I sell it here when it’s done?

Michael: No.

Michael: Some of our customers don’t approve of science.

Michael: Get out, poor person.
Deborah: I thought we had chemistry.

Michael: Go talk chemistry with the scientist.

Michael: And get to the back of the line, I like this dude better.

Michael: I treat my friends like I treat everyone else.
Deborah: Yeah, like crap.

Deborah: Just like Lucas! ☆

Abigail: You’re not one of those mouth-breathing jump-ropers, really, are you?
Cory: I’m under cover.
Abigail: Under my covers, more like. ROWR!

Cameron: Somebody bought the entire shelf?
Michael: I’m the local IKEA distributor too.

Jay: I dunno, this place doesn’t seem very UNBORING.

That might be about to change.

Kendra: Now now. Michael and I are best buds!

He divorced and blacklisted you. Now you’re a prostitute because of him.

Kendra: Water under the bridge!

Michael: Mee-oww! I’d pay to hit that!
Kendra: Sometimes the water washes out the bridge, though.

Michael: What kind of book are you looking for?
Kendra: Got any about a selfish prick who ruins a woman’s life just because she doesn’t love him?

Cameron: Wait for it…

Kendra: Fifty Shades of Grey. Walked right into that one.

Contessa Lucy Toyonaga: BLEH!
Veronica: BOOK VAMPIRES!

Veronica: Bad bookstore! I hate book vampires!

Michael: If you don’t hang around in here, I give you permission to suck my customers dry after they leave.
Contessa Lucy: Can I keep their books?
Michael: Whatever, they’ll be paid for.

Cheryl: Oh god no, this is the plot to “You’ve Got Mail!”

And this is the plot to “You’ve Got Nope.“

Going home already?

Michael: When someone compares you to Tom Hanks, your day has peaked.

Why so down, guys?

Poppy and Kent: Michael’s coming home.

Michael: Michael is home!
Poppy: And Poppy is leaving.

Poppy: As soon as she remembers how to hold this thing.

Poppy: Hey Dr. Young! I thought we might check out that science building they named after you at the new university! Fuck around a bit there, you know what I mean.

Michael: It had better not be literal.

Poppy: I can hear you thinking about it.

Poppy: Hopefully he can’t hear me thinking about it.

Here we see the elusive establishing shot out of its natural environment – in my journal.

Poppy: You excited?
Abigail: Yeah, university science, woo! What kind of toothpaste are they testing today?

Abigail: Hey, hands off! You want me to bump my head on the taxi?
Poppy: I dunno, would a concussion make you less of a stiff?

Abigail: My skull is titanium-reinforced. If I’ve got a concussion, the rest of you are dead.

Abigail: You’re picturing your husband dead, aren’t you.
Poppy: IT’S HILARIOUS

Poppy: He hates all my girlfriends for some reason?
Abigail: Literal girlfriends?
Poppy: Yeah! What’s wrong with that?

Poppy: He even hates the dead ones.

Abigail: I refuse to follow up on that.

Abigail: Hey, the secret fuckin’ shelf! I heard they were gonna include a secret fuckin’ shelf.

Abigail: But for some reason you have to dance first to use it.

Alvin: NEEDS MORE SCIENCE

Abigail: Dammit! The secret part of “secret fuckin’ shelf” is the most important part!

Poppy: Give the guy a break, he’s an elderly townie with grease paint on. This is the closest to sex he’s even gonna get.

Poppy: Things that are also close to sex: this view.

Poppy: And us, hopefully.

Abigail: I can’t get turned on with Alvin that close.

Alvin: Physical maps! How cheesy.

Abigail: SPATIAL AWARENESS POPPY

Poppy: If I’m reading the tower right, it’s kiss-me-already-o’clock.

Abigail: Why do you think almost killing me is sexy?

Poppy: You’re just such a robot I keep thinking I need to get the adrenaline going!

Abigail: The adrenaline is going, alright.

Poppy: Look, Abigail, you’re just the prettiest gay person I’ve ever seen.
Abigail: That sure would be flattering if I were gay.

Abigail: DON’T TRY TO KILL ME JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY

Alvin: Don’t credit robots! Robots aren’t people!

Yeah!

Alvin: They are better than people.

Abigail: Oh Poppy, you thief of virtue!
Gordon: WHO’S A THIEF WHERE’S A THIEF I’M NOT A THIEF

Abigail: This is so enlightening! The chapter on homosexuality in my book is gonna be great.
Poppy: So you’re just dating chicks for research.

Poppy: I’ll still take it.

Poppy: Let me teach you about gay sports. We call this one identity juggling.

Poppy: And this dance is called “Facing Vaginas.”

His constant approach would be creepy, if it wasn’t Alvin.

Alvin has his own kind of creepy.

Emily: Man, those chairs! How are you supposed to bang the prof for extra credit on them?!

Alvin: Hey, don’t I know you?
Kendra: We had sex.
Alvin: Duh! Everyone has.

Poppy: I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re not gay, what with you having eight kids and all.
Abigail: Everyone keeps telling me that, but I swear I can’t remember it happening.

Poppy: Amnesia is hot.

It’s just bad motherhood, really.

Poppy: Also hot.

Kendra: MORE LIKE TWO-OH-NONE!

What.

Christ, do something more interesting already.

Poppy: Like what?

More tongue?

Abigail: I know just where to put it.

Abigail: Or not?
Poppy: We don’t want to stereotype ourselves.

Abigail: This is a dangerous tactic for someone who kept almost pushing me off the roof.

Apparently life and death situations really do bring you closer.

Much closer.

Poppy: How are your teeth this clean?!
Abigail: My matter transporter has a “plaque” setting.

Poppy: You are a miracle of modern science, Abigail.

Abigail: Hardly. Modern science is a miracle of me.

Poppy: Wanna go make the students feel inadequate?
Abigail: ALWAYS

Kendra: It wasn’t a date, Jessie. It was sex. You paid for it.
Jessie: DEFINITION OF A DATE

Apparently Abigail thinks Jessie is the definition of a date.

Luckily my definition is much more discerning.

Poppy: Wait, another memory is coming back to me! You know Randy Reiner?
Abigail: “SNRRRRK”?
Poppy: Yeah, that douchebag!

Poppy: I remember he lost a fight!
Abigail: Hardly memorable.

Poppy: He lost it to that cheerleader zombie! In a basement.
Abigail: Your suppressed memories are the entire neighbourhood’s suppressed memories.

Abigail: I’m gonna find someone less weird to talk to. Hi! I’m Abigail. Are you weird?

Abigail: The Young Science Building is a pretty impressive monument!
Poppy: Don’t get a big head.
Abigail: I’ve already got one! On the pillar over here, look!

Abigail: We should name more things after me.
Poppy: I’ve got an itch on my ass that needs naming.

Poppy: But if I writhe around in this corduroy it should go away.

Your dressed just ripped, Mrs. Sexypants.

Poppy: It’s just clipping, you can fix it in post.

And lose this flop of a joke? Pff.

Jennifer: Oh no. You’re not banging your head on my cab twice.

Abigail: Hi Poppy!
Poppy: Hi Abigail!

Hi-larious.

Another almost competent shot.

The person taking them is slowly evolving into me.

Except for this weird fascination with chicks making out that he seems to have.

Poppy: But would you fucking look at this chick.

Yeah, for, like, hours.

And I’m not ashamed either.

Abigail: Wait, wouldn’t that make you a stalker?

What? I created you! You wouldn’t exist without me. I’m your god.

Abigail: As long as you don’t ask me to burn a goat to you, I guess we’re square.

Or sacrifice your children!

Abigail: Enh, that one could go either way.

Michael: One of my senses is tingling, and it’s not my money sense!

Abigail: This place needs some serious makeouts. It’s like a crypt in here.

Michael: How about I put this redheaded bear in it?
Abigail: For colour, you mean. Not for makeouts.
Michael: Right, unless you and her have something to tell me.

Abigail: …I think I might, actually.

…

I have no idea, so I threw it in.

Michael: Meet my daughter! Chicks love meeting daughters!
Veronica: .oO(Daughters, however…)

Abigail: Are you hitting on me?! I’m Best Friends with your wife!
Michael: See? We have so much in common!

Abigail: NO. I am not the woman who cheats. I am the woman who is cheated ON.
Michael: That came out wrong?
Abigail: TOTALLY.

Abigail: But I have very strong views on this since my original husband flew off to motherfucking Twikii Island to bang our slatternly neighbour.
Michael: When was this, a thousand years ago? When we used words like “slatternly”?

Abigail: I hope he got crabs.
Michael: You don’t know? Didn’t you guys have more kids after that?
Abigail: Crab repellent.
Michael: What? But you-
Abigail: Crab repellent, all over my bed, all the time. Can’t be too careful.

Abigail: But enough talk about crab repellent, it’s one of my Turn-Ons.
Michael: Seriously?
Abigail: I work with a lot of chemicals, things go wrong sometimes.

Michael: Anyway, thanks for coming in today. You really boosted business, and I got some much-needed cash register practice.
Abigail: Pff.
Michael: What?
Abigail: I’ve seen you with that thing, when the store’s closed. Caressing its buttons and opening and closing its filthy little drawer. Like you need practice.

Abigail: Have you ever considered that you might be a robosexual?

Abigail: ‘cuz you can afford a whole army of Abigail Young model Servos if you sell all your businesses and give me all your money.

Michael: Sorry lady, the money fairy’s a myth, and I’m real.

Michael: I’m not sure you are, though.

Abigail: Oh god, you are hitting on me. Like you have a chance.
Michael: Why not? My wife obviously did.

Abigail: HAHAHA wait what

Abigail: What was that about Poppy?
Michael: Just a distraction.
Abigail: A distraction from WHEN DID THIS EMBRACE START

Abigail: A smooth criminal is still a criminal, you know.
Michael: Oh yeah, officer, make me pay.

Abigail: You’re treeing up the wrong bark, Captain Tight-Pants.

Michael: Was it the boner?
Abigail: It was the disappointing boner.

Michael: It’s still bigger than Jerome’s.

Abigail: So are all of my fingers.

Michael: But I bet those fingers have been where Jerome’s dick hasn’t.

Abigail: And that’s a pretty secure status quo.

Abigail: Welp, bye! Enjoy all the guilt of adultery with none of the sex!
Michael: What’s guilt? I’m a businessman.

Abigail: I can see myself out, Kent.
Kent: And I can see your ass, sweet-ass.

Abigail: This is why I invented robot butlers.

Michael: This hand grabbed the sexy science lady!
Veronica: .oo(Nice going, that hand!)

Poppy: I think when you have lesbian sex you should be required to announce whether or not you’re actually a lesbian.

Michael: Hold that thought, downstairs sounds really interesting right now.

Michael: Hey there, it’s my favourite investment! How was the new science building?
Poppy: IT DOESN’T LOVE ME THE WAY I LOVE IT

Michael: Sounds too rich for my blood sugar.

Veronica: .oO(Less bitch, more bear.)

Michael: Your mom seems increasingly distant lately.
Veronica: .oO(NOT THIS SONG AND DANCE AGAIN)

Veronica: .oO(I’m selfish!)

Just like daddy!

Michael: And then the big bad wolf bought a car, and it was a fuckin’ Tucker Torpedo with all the options, beautifully restored, but his wife insisted on still being a lesbian anyway.

Veronica: .oO(Wow… even with the heated seats?!)

Michael: C’mere, you’re almost out of the shot.

Veronica: .oO(MAYBE JUST LET IT HAPPEN)

Kent: I brought your kid more radiation.

Michael: Good, this stuff has a terrible half-life.

Michael: Alright kid, focus. Show me your best Revolver Ocelot.

Michael: Perfect! Now do Otacon.

Veronica: .oO(I have some pride, you know.)

Michael: Tomorrow we’ll do Resident Evil.

Michael: Now practice your NES midis!

Michael: What were those jokes even.

Poppy: Shoes.

Works every time.

Poppy: Alright kid, remember: anything daddy told you is probably bullshit.

Poppy: And that goes double for mommy.

Poppy: Mommy is a huge liarface.

Mommy’s not the only one.

Michael: Will we last?

What’s your timeframe?

Michael: This chapter.

Ooh. Hmm.

Poppy: That’s not a great incentive to get out of bed.

Veronica: .oO(Great, thanks, now get your nipples outta here.)

Veronica: .oO(Baby needs to dump.)

Michael: Hey, up and at ’em! It’s like four in the morning, time is money.

Michael: Is that a horny face or a contemplative one? ‘cuz if it’s contemplative I’m getting back up.

Poppy: You and I are rats.

More like rabbits.

Michael: What brought that on?
Poppy: Re-centring my sexual preference scale.

Poppy: Maybe.

Poppy: …maybe not.

Michael: Well you have fun with that.

Poppy: I do, that’s the problem.

Poppy: I’ve got it!

You’ve got what?

Poppy: I know how to fix all my mental problems!

How?

Poppy: Obsessive cleaning!

Ooh, yeah, that one’s good.

Gypsy versus Skunk!

It’s the new internet meme.

I hate it already.

Felicia: GOT IT IN THE BAG

Oh god, don’t do that.

Give it to someone who won’t do any damage with it, like the Zombie Queen or the mad scientists.

Michael: THIS TIME it’s DEFINITELY my money sense.

Poppy: No sequence breaking!

Michael: This is the genie lamp? It looks like flowers.

Poppy: THIS WASN’T MY WISH

Michael: MY WIFE HAD SEXY LESBIAN SEX

Yeah.

Michael: WITH THE WOMAN I WAS GONNA REPLACE HER WITH IF SHE HAD SEXY LESBIAN SEX!

…yeah.

If it’s any consolation, Abigail is way out of your league.

Michael: PUT MY PROPERTY DOWN, BITCH

Michael: I WISH WE COULD DO THIS IN A BIGGER ROOM SO THE CAMERA COULD JOIN US
Poppy: Stop talking in death-speak!

Michael: At least this one gave me a kid before turning evil.

Kendra gave you a kid too!

Michael: After turning evil. There’s a difference.

Poppy: Hold on a minute, kiddo, mommy needs to find out why she’s evil.

Poppy: Well?
Michael: DRAMATIC PAUSE

Poppy: You found out about those chicks I fucked.
Michael: DON’T RUIN MY DRAMATIC PAUSE, BITCH!

Michael: AND YES I FOUND OUT ABOUT THOSE CHICKS YOU FUCKED!

Veronica: .oO(Go, mommy!)

Michael: You knew my last wife cheated on me! And you saw what happened!
Poppy: But you were a dick! And it was at least half your fault!
Michael: IT’S NEVER MY FAULT IF I HAVE MONEY

Michael: Mourning for the comfortable life you’re about to lose?
Poppy: No, for yours.

Veronica: .oO(HEY LET’S NOT FORGET ABOUT THE BABY BOTTLE HERE)

Poppy: OH GOD DAISY’S GONNA KILL YOU BOTH

Pretty sure she won’t if you ask her not to.

Poppy: Oh god I have to talk to Daisy.

Michael: Tell her to bring it on! I’m mad at her too, since you look the same.

Poppy: I always thought I was cuter.

Michael: You were, until that hair.

Poppy: And we were doing so well! I bet we were about to get a genie lamp, too.

Poppy: AW COME ON

Poppy: If this has a purple magic chick inside of it, I’ll accept the universe’s apology.

Poppy: Can’t catch a break, can I.

Genie: Whaddaya want.
Poppy: That’s some impressive ancient dialect you’ve got going there.

Genie: Whaddaya want.
Poppy: Give me a second to think about it! I’m still mourning for that imaginary purple chick I made up.

Genie: DON’T MAKE ME USE THE HAND
Poppy: Alright, alright! I want you to solve all my problems!

Genie: Money it is.

Poppy: I’d be mad, but you have a point.

Poppy: Bonus points for putting a hole in Michael’s roof.

Michael: Mommy’s gone to live with the bears, Veronica.
Veronica: .oO(‘kay.)
Michael: And they’re gonna eat her.

Poppy: Do you do the backfiring wishes thing?
Genie: What’s it worth to ya?

Poppy: Eww, bathroom money.

Poppy: AND OTHER BAD THINGS

Poppy: Yay! Enough money to get me not as good a house as this.

Poppy: Luckily that covers most of the neighbourhood.

Michael: Oh boy oh boy are you leaving now?!
Poppy: I think I need a shower first. Stick your head under here and tell me.

Poppy: I guess this is it, Michael. Unless you’re suddenly not an asshole anymore.

Michael: Like that could even happen.

Michael: Hello, empty wall where Poppy was just standing! MY how you’ve improved in the last five seconds. It must be the lack of that hideous shadow.
Poppy: Alright, alright already.

Michael: Hey there Mr. Carpet! It looks like a big flabby gay weight has been lifted from you! I wonder why.

Michael: Bye, homewrecker!

Poppy: Go look at the bedroom ceiling and see how literally true that is.

Poppy: You can keep that sack. I’m sure it’ll make you happier in bed.

Poppy: Tell Veronica I was eaten by a giant vagina.

Michael: It’ll have to be a giant bear vagina, for our stories to stay straight.

Michael: And this is gonna be a straight story over here, now that my gay wife is gone.

Yeah, well… wow, that was fun.

Anyway, one hundred and fifty chapters! Here’s a shameless piece of cheesecake:

(Click for full-size version)

A representative sample of my loveliest ladies have graciously agreed to be objectified for the occasion.

Three should be guessable; two shouldn’t be; two can’t be.

And yeah, that’s my first hundred and forty-nine chapters behind them (the twenty-fifth one happened twice, if you’ll recall.) To see ’em all in their combined glory, click here.

Next time: all that talk about robosexuals finally bears fruit.

Robot fruit.

Sexy robot fruit?