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.
Previous Entries: C.1., C.2., C.3., C.4., C.5., C.6., C.7., C.8., C.9., C.10., C.11., C.12., C.13., C.14., C.15., C.16., C.17., C.18., C.19., C.20., C.21., C.22., C.23., C.24., C.25.A., C.25.B., C.26., C.27., C.28., C.29., C.30., C.31, C.32, C.33, C.34, C.35, C.36
Interludes: I.1., I.2.
I've been struggling with this one for a long time. I try to keep a fairly even mix between the three things this journal usually delivers: humour, violence, and nudity. Unfortunately, this entry is all about the nudity without any violence and without a lot of inherent humour. I'm a lot better at finding humour where it exists than I am at making it up whole cloth. So... bear with me, alright? It gets better from here.
As a side note, we've now reached the point in my Pine Valley playing career where I first started working on this journal.
Mad Libs 4 Ever.
(Where the sheep lie down with the serial killer)
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, anyone...
Daisy: Sooo... what do you remember about how you died?
Poppy: Not a lot, really... you said it was a car crash, with our mom... but I just remember fire. Lots of fire.
Poppy: Why would there be so much fire at a car crash?
Daisy: WELL YOU'RE BACK NOW AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS
Poppy: Bullshit! There's something you're not telling me!
Daisy: Oh, so now this is all about you huh?
Poppy: Do you have to be such an ice queen?
Poppy: Do you have to make such a big production out of everything?
Poppy: Do you have to turn every conversation into a soap opera?
Daisy: Do you have to be such a diva?
Poppy: Are you gunning for a Simmy Award? Because I think they discontinued the “Biggest Unreasonable Bitch in a Sims Journal” category.
Nicholas: Hey! You're naked! Outside! That's something.
Daisy: I had a fight with my sister.
Nicholas: I wasn't complaining.
Daisy: Ooh, blackmail material.
What're you doing here?
Daisy: More surgery.
Daisy: Made my sister look hotter than I do.
Well, as long as you have a good reason.
Daisy: Let's see... fifteen percent more precocious, raise the adorable quotient just a smidgeon...
Daisy: How do I look?
Daisy: That'll do.
This is exactly how I remember university. It was all naked lesbians doing drugs.
Poppy: HAHAHA I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM
Okay, the following is a comparison between me and most of my friends. This is me using my computer.
Kea McClellan: I wonder what the Grand Poobah wants at this ungodly hour.
Kea: Why can't we have a secret handshake like other secret societies?
Daisy: Because I've seen where you people put your hands.
Kea: Say, has anyone ever told you that you have a great ass?
Daisy: Has anyone kicked yours today?
That's not dancing. I don't know what it is, but it's not dancing.
Daisy: So hey, be a good minion and fix my stupid sister's stupid computer will you.
Man. I want minions.
Kea: Hewwo Computow! Computow wanna kissypoo?
You know what, never mind.
I'm gonna stop captioning these.
Poppy: Yeah. Stand right there.
Poppy: And don't talk.
Irfan: A DEN OF ILL REPUTE! :O
Poppy: Yes, that's right, I want a copy of my death certificate. Yes, that's right, mine. Yes, I know I am. Look, just do it okay?
Yeah, professors. Don't do this. At all.
Poppy: Hi Dr. Corsillo. What do you want.
Professor Jasmyn Corsillo: Just checking on my favourite student!
Poppy: I'm not one of your students.
Jasmyn: Hey, you look really great naked!
Jasmyn: OH MY GOD YOU'RE NAKED.
Jasmyn: WE'D BETTER PLAY CATCH.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Jasmyn: Hey, what's your sister up to?
That's Daisy. They have the same haircut now. You're pretty much fucked.
Daisy: Look, I know you're having second thoughts, but hijacking that plane is the best thing for all of us right now. Nobody likes a terrorist who wusses out.
Daisy: HA HA ASTRONAUTS ARE COOL EH HA HA HI POPPY THAT'S JUST MY SISTER POPPY WALKING BY!
Daisy: Okay. So you remember where we hid the bomb, right?
Jess: Fada soola gor!
Daisy: I'm really not in the mood for Rape Llamas right now.
Jess: Fada soola bron!
Daisy: I'll just let you and the sink have some private time together.
Jess: Fada vaby oda vaba gonk gonk gonk!
Daisy: This isn't getting old at all.
Jess: Gerbitz! GERBITZ! Vooooooo GERBITZ!
You've got to admire his tenacity.
Daisy: I just want us to be very clear on this one point: if you do that cheer again, I'm going to end you.
With ground rules laid down, courting of the Rape Llama can begin.
Inappropriate touching is the foundation of any good Rape Llama relationship.
Daisy: Whoa! Hey! Just because I'm into Rape Llamas doesn't mean I'm down with Rape Cows!
There is something very unwholesome about the mascots at this university.
How'd the exam go?
Daisy: Killed the invigilator.
Wish I'd thought of that.
Daisy: I think it's about time to move on to greener pastures. Pastures where I haven't already slaughtered all the sheep.
Daisy: Yes, hello. I'd like to apply for graduation, please?
Poppy: Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?
No, do the age transition again. You don't look absurd enough, something must have gone wrong.
Daisy: Stick it out for one more semester, sis. Somebody's gotta eat all those vaginas.
Yeah, this isn't a recipe for disaster or anything.
Brittany: Boy! I didn't learn ANYTHING today!
Elle: I know, right?!
Elle: Well, let's get it over with.
Elle: It's MY turn! I'm gonna throw water balloons at her while she SLEEPS!
Brittany: Amateur! I'm gonna do an entire CHEER while she TAKES A SHIT!
Brittany: Fada soola gor!
Poppy: I'm glad you're so easily amused.
Poppy: Although... on the other hand...
Poppy: You are one HOT dykey-looking cheerleader! Are you a hot, dykey-looking, actually homosexual cheerleader?
Brittany: I am!
Brittany: You know, he can't write lesbians for shit.
Poppy: Tell me about it.
Brittany: Fada soola gor!
Poppy: We could just buy a radio, if you really need background music all the fucking time.
Poppy: What say we go on a date, and I put your head between my legs and let you cheer all you want?
Brittany: I say that's disgusting, and I'm in.
Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies.
Man, I wish I had my own cheerleader maid.
And I wish real people would walk like that sometimes.
Okay, seriously. Stop cleaning and let her make out with you.
Poppy: I can't keep up this level of sexy indefinitely!
Brittany: Hey, I wonder if the toilet needs cleaning?
As it turns out, the toilet did need cleaning.
Brittany: Fada soola gor!
Poppy: You will grow out of this... right...?
Poppy: But you can keep the uniform.
Man, asses are awesome.
Poppy: I have executed the traditional ritual. You must now provide the traditional reward.
The perfect end to the perfect day, right?
We don't do perfect days around here.
Next update: the last of this infuriatingly dull college crap for a while. We're all looking forward to that, right?