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!
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?
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: 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!
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!
Christ, do something more interesting already.
Poppy: Like what?
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.
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?
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?
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!
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: 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.
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: 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.
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.
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 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!
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
Michael: WITH THE WOMAN I WAS GONNA REPLACE HER WITH IF SHE HAD SEXY LESBIAN SEX!
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.
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.
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.
Sexy robot fruit?