Welcome to the Sharpesvale Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
Updates whenever I damn well please!
Sim weddings! Moderately more interesting than real ones.
Makeover pics! But Emma don’t give a shit.
Amin: There’s a full potty in the other room might have something to say about that.
Chelsea: Yeah man, trust me. These girls? They give plenty of shits.
Chelsea: I’m the one who don’t.
It still seems like an unhealthy response to me.
I hope you washed your hands first.
Also, Bree’s genetics for the win.
Bree’s survival instincts, however, for the lose.
I’d say this one’s suitable for framing, but… all my pics are framed now anyway, so.
I didn’t have to crop or correct any of the pics in this chapter.
It’s too much to ask that this be the beginning of a trend.
Your nothing’s on fire again.
Chelsea: Aww! My two-year-old niece wrote me a love letter!
Chelsea: Testing out the monkey/typewriter theory?
See? Told you.
Jordan: This seems above-and-beyond to me.
Jordan: Good luck with that.
These pics are worth at least one NPC getting fried for.
Amin: The door… way… floor? Caught fire again.
Chelsea: It’s those little glitches that make life worth living.
Amin: There are other factors involved.
Chelsea: I make a point never to argue with a penis over seven inches.
Amin: …wait. Do you argue with a lot of penises, then?
Chelsea: They certainly don’t agree with me, if that’s what you’re asking.
Wedding planning in TS2 is… not exactly how wedding planning in the real world works.
Chelsea: Thank god.
You’re welcome too.
Andrew: Careful not to trip on that.
Ember: I’d worry about myself if I were you.
Oliver: Wow! Dad came! He’s barely even recognized my resurrection!
Nathaniel: Who are you again?
Oliver: I’ll take it!
Andrew: You lookin’ pretty good, house!
Imagine it in Strong Bad’s voice.
Ember: Who invited… whoever that is?
Nathaniel: That’s your stepgrandson, grandma. Do we need to put you in a home?
Ember: Try it and I’ll put you in a box.
Stephen: That tap on the ass has unleashed a tidal wave of dance!
Andrew: Oh, good.
Chelsea: Half-brother Lance!
Lance: They said you’re marrying a… bigfoot?
Chelsea: It’s good to see you, half-brother Lance.
Lance: You can drop the “half” if you like.
Chelsea: Nah, it’s cool.
Lance: I have it on good authority that the guy in the ape costume will rip it off during the ceremony and surprise everybody!
Angelica: All that blood and guts will certainly make an impression…
Lance: Let me tell you about the time I killed my brother.
Oliver: What is this, the Credits Network?
Lance: So yeah I knocked him out and buried him alive.
Angelica: This had better be fanfic.
Nathaniel: Hey! That’s half the neighbourhood’s grandma you’re ogling!
Ember: Carry on!
Angelica: Hey there, not-uncle Oliver!
Oliver: Lookin’ good, not-niece Angelica!
Such healthy babies, they’re positively glowing!
Slap Dance + Hula = emergency chiropractic intervention.
Oliver: Dad brought this dance home from Twikkii Island!
Angelica: When does he take it back?
Chelsea: C’mere, give your aunt Chelsea a hug!
Nathaniel: I’m wise to you, seductress!
Lance: I love those shoes! Pull your dress up a bit so I can get a better look.
Angelica: I have no idea what I’m doing.
Oliver: That’s how you know you’re doing it right!
Nathaniel: Back, harlot!
Nathaniel: Dammit fine.
Okay, I admit it’s cute.
Enjoying your wedding party?
Amin: What was your first clue?
Oliver: Why does that guy get a better spot than me?
Lance: Um, duh? Because I’m better than you?
Nathaniel: He’s right, you know.
Stephen: Shut up, kid! People are getting married over there!
Chelsea: Got the jitters?
Amin: No, it’s just… I moved here to get away from all these losers.
Stephen: There, there. Grandpa didn’t mean to yell at you.
You’re not her grandpa.
Stephen: I thought I was everyone’s grandpa?
Andrew: I feel like someone should have moved this.
Amin is clearly not excited.
Andrew: Is there a bomb I should know about?
Chelsea: YOU ALREADY KNOW I’M A ROMANCE SIM, BUDDY.
Oh well. This is pretty romantic, by Chelsea standards.
Andrew: I always cry at weddings! Especially when there’s chopped onions in a can in front of me!
Amin: Why are you hitting yourself?
Chelsea: I’m trying to distract myself from the existential horror that is marriage.
Chelsea: I mean HEY HUBBY NICE TO MARRY YA!
Nathaniel: I had no idea you’d be wearing that suit.
Oliver: It’s okay, man. There’s only, like, five suits.
Oliver: In the world.
At least Brooke was here in spirit.
Everyone: FUCK ANGELICA
Stephen: You heard them!
Oliver: I volunteer! For the fucking.
Oliver: Of Angelica.
Stephen: Something you need to tell me, Olivier?
Now this, this is what weddings are all about.
Some people say it’s this, but those people are popular. I mean assholes.
Lance: Don’t you want to dance with me, sexy lady?
Ember: You’re half Bradley. I’ve had enough Bradley in my life already, thank you.
Amin: So you see, stargazing is at least as much fun as dancing!
Nathaniel: If you want me to leave your party you can just say so.
Andrew: Give it up, man. Hula is dead.
Andrew: Take pops home, would you?
Ember: Which home? He’s got like five wives at this point.
Andrew: And I blame you.
Oliver: How have these things not improved in all the decades I’ve been dead?
I’ll leave it up to you to decide if he means instant meals or computers.
But he means both.
Lance: No, seriously! I will pay you. For sex.
Amin: WOW! That babe is lightning hot!
Ember: Did you make this arch entirely out of used copper pipes or something? Or did it affront some wrathful and terrible god?
You do have one of those hanging around, you know!
Andrew: Congratulations, Amin.
Amin: Thanks man.
Nathaniel: Yeah, grats.
Amin: SPEAK ENGLISH. Ape.
Chelsea: Fuck Oliver! By which I mean I want to fuck Oliver.
Ember: I’ve got dibs on the pickup autist in pink.
Chelsea: How much has Stephen had to drink?
Andrew: Only one glass, but it was a Piña Colada.
Everybody: FUCK EVERYBODY
New neighbourhood motto!
Murphies and Prices, Foxes and friends, disperse.
Oliver: Aww, walking me out?
Chelsea: Just making sure that you leave.
Chelsea: And I have a few things to take care of out here.
Amin: And a few things to take care of in here…
Amin: What brings your milkshake to my humble yard?
Chelsea: Your very impressive stir-stick.
Amin: I’m gonna pretend she likes me for my brains.
You should have married a zombie instead.
Sometimes I just have to sit back and admire the miracle that is Amin.
If you could electronically measure emotional damage, this kid would be crackling like a Geiger counter on a nuclear sub.
I guess I’d dream about cows too, if I’d ever machinegunned one.
She can hear that fucking thing swinging in the breeze.
Emma: .oO(Bad god.)
It’s not the radiation, that’s her actual eye colour.
Emma: .oO(Bad people funny.)
Hey, we try.
There’s just something about badness that feels so good.
Chelsea: Hear, hear!
Next time: a brief blip.
Blink and you’ll miss it!
No, I’m telling you. Blink and miss it. DO IT.