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!
If the images in this chapter are broken, read it at gruglysims.ca instead!
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, C.37, C.38, C.39, C.40, C.41, C.42, C.43, C.44, C.45, C.46, C.47, C.48, C.49, C.50, C.51, C.52, C.53, C.54, C.55, C.56, C.57, C.58, C.59, C.60, C.61
Interludes: I.1, I.2, I.3
My mom's in the hospital, so the least you can do is pretend it's still Friday.
And that I haven't missed several weeks worth of updates.
(She's gonna be fine.)
Well, Photobucket has at least momentarily seen the error of their ways. They were automatically scrambling filenames without giving the user the option to not scramble their file names, because some vacuous idiots uploaded nudie pics of themselves to the internet with such obvious names that trolls were able to guess them.
Obviously you should hamstring good customers to serve the mouth breathers.
I'll use PB as long as they don't start that silliness up again, but I'm not taking off my disclaimer telling people not to use their service because I still think they're jerks and they deserve to die.
Well. I guess you're dead.
Stewart: And I'm dead sexy, ohhhh yeahhhhh. Rockin' the Stephen Baldwin.
Jim: They gave you a nature plaque for murdering butterflies?!
Oh, Leonard. Like you'll live that long.
Leonard: Hey Stewart! Remember that time mom ignored us?
Stewart: Silly Leonard! That was every time!
Leonard and Stewart: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Jim: Mmm! Spaghetti!
Yeah, dude, seriously, what?
Leonard: Bitches love noodle hair.
Stewart: Oh my god! You downloaded custom hair for dudes!
Under protest, I assure you.
And purely for the lols.
Sullivan: I despise you for your weakness.
Sullivan: And your mother has never loved you.
Leonard: Do we have to do this every morning, Sullivan?
Stewart: Morning, random SimHawaiian lady!
Tracy: Morning, Stewart!
Tracy: Now GET THE FUCK OUT OF YOUR OWN BATHROOM
Abigail: Who needs buses? I'm gonna rock up to Centreborough High in my spiffy black mommamobile.
Abigail: WATCH OUT A CAR
What was that about, Maxis?
Oh, I get it. It's Halloween, and you're going as old money.
Meanwhile, on the pay channels...
Melanie: Oh, William! I'm so glad we put aside our differences!
William: I'm not. You're, like, only half as hot since you stopped eating all my family members.
Melanie: I'm gonna clean this place from tip to toe! What're you gonna do?
William: Write a letter to the President asking if it's illegal to kill you now that you're not a zombie anymore.
Melanie: It's not my fault this journal's gotten boring.
YES IT IS.
Now get out of this awful house so I don't have to waste so much time playing it.
Jennifer: I don't see why they need a taxi. They could just walk down the damn hill to their new house.
I think Maxis just wanted to take every opportunity they could to show that they don't know what taxis look like.
Leaving Abigail for good, eh? Must be hard.
William: Yeah, but I'm following that ass over there, and that makes me hard.
Take a long last look, William. If that's what you're doing. I can't tell. The reflection is terrible. This picture is terrible. Let's just move on.
Modernism! Because fuck aesthetics.
Shadow: .oO(I'M STILL HERE)
Shadow: .oO(I STILL EXIST)
You'd like me to believe that, wouldn't you?
Jim: I CAN'T GET OUT
I'm still not sure how you got in.
Anybody make fun of your hair, Len?
Leonard: Only everybody!
That's not so bad, then.
Stewart: Hi mom!
Leonard: Hi mom!
Abigail: You look like an imbecile, Leonard.
Abigail: And your vocabulary is atrocious.
Leonard: Hi Stewart!
Stewart: Hi Leonard!
Abigail: YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE TAKEN MY STUPID FAMILY WITH YOU WILLIAM
I dunno. I think they'll starve if you separate them from their mommy.
I for one wouldn't want to be separated from her.
I don't even need to caption this shit anymore.
And I'm rapidly losing the sense that I can.
Leonard: Oh, neat! You're one of those ecological natives!
Jane: Your fashion sense stinks.
I'm impressed you can smell it, over your own.
Shadow: .oO(Get out. But leave the broad.)
Stewart: Man, backdraft really is deadly!
Tracy: Oh god Jim you smell-
Jim: -like our tropical island paradise?
Tracy: Not unless the sewers have backed up since I left...
Eighty-year-olds in eighteen-year-old bodies are what we call "ringers" in the Teen Career business.
Hailey: I DON'T REMEMBER HOW TO DO THE BUTTERFLY PUZZLE
This isn't Resident Evil.
Hailey: THEN WHAT AM I DOING IN A STRANGER'S HUGE EMPTY HOUSE
I don't know!
Did the town council expropriate the Murphy place for a community centre and forget to tell me?
Abigail: Hi! Get off my computer before I murder you.
Jane: I'm a secret agent.
Abigail: Even better! The government will disavow your existence.
I think I might need to reinstate my earlier policy of killing off all the Murphy children.
Jane: What're you up to?
Abigail: Applying to university.
Jane: Don't they have, like, an online application or something?
Abigail: Nah, they moved to phone line applications a few years ago.
Abigail: LET ME IN SO I CAN MAKE YOU ALL FEEL STUPID
Mount Noble University: OKAY
Hailey: I already feel stupid.
Well that's just because you are.
Abigail: Long time, no see!
Andrew: Yeah, no kidding, mom. I seem to remember you being... older.
Andrew: ...than me.
Andrew: Fada soola gor!
Andrew: I don't know!
Andrew: Fada soola bron!
Abigail: Are you feeling okay?
Andrew: I've got a bad case of school cheer!
Andrew: Fada vaby oba vaba gonk gonk gonk!
Abigail: It's like having my own personal annoying person!
Andrew: Gerbits! GERBITS!
Abigail: I love gerbits!
Andrew: VOHHHHHHH GERBITS!
Abigail: I've turned zombie greasers into ash piles with insect clouds and that's still the weirdest thing I've ever seen!
Abigail: So yeah, before you had that psychotic break, I was intending to ask you if you could teach me how to do homework.
Andrew: You... are a world-famous mad scientist. You invented artificial intelligence. We cured zombiism together.
Abigail: Yeah, well, when you figure out how that applies to colouring in maps of the SimNation and answering questions about trains of different speeds on tracks of different lengths, you just let me know.
Jane: Aren't you guys... a little bit... far from where you should be?
Kenya: YOU HAD BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN INCLUDING ME IN THAT, HONKIE.
Kenya: Anyway, the Murphy House is for everybody!
Andrew: Homework! Homework! Homework!
Abigail: I don't know why that's helping, but it is.
Oh, dammit, this is my fault. I should have known that outdoor Red Hands was a gateway game to naked Paper Rock Scissors.
Good, you've done one day of high school homework. That should get you into university.
It would certainly explain the quality of some of my colleagues...
Abigail: Alright, thanks dude. You can go trim your beard now, or whatever it is you do for fun.
Abigail: What? WHAT?
Andrew: I just don't think eighty-year-old women should dress that sexy, is all.
I'm more concerned with eighteen-year-old dudes NOT DRESSING AT ALL.
Andrew: Yeah, no. I don't know where those hands have been, but judging by your appearance I can guess.
Sullivan: I hope you're having a stroke.
Abigail: It's working! It's WORKING!
Abigail: IT DIDN'T FUCKING WORK.
Were you trying to turn yourself into a zombie?
Abigail: APPARENTLY I'm too successful.
I feel so bad for you.
When I'm not too busy feeling so mad about this.
Oh? With who?
Hm. I really don't want to know how, then.
Leonard: This picture isn't weird enough. How can we make it weirder?
Stewart: Mom will know!
Andrew: SO ROUND AND SHINY AND SCIENCE
Leonard: And he's the successful one.
Stewart: Beggars belief, I won't lie.
Andrew: Way to be in my mom's room!
Amar: Way to be a stupid jerk!
Andrew: Way to have an ugly face!
Amar: Way to have a hidden one I can't comment on!
Sullivan: WAY TO WRITE ANOTHER HALF-ASS UPDATE
Way to not get the last word!
Jane: My life is worthless!
Well, there's a garbage can right there.
Great. Now a gypsy is gonna steal our car.
Aiyana: Well, you don't have any babies...
Andrew: GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE, YOU TROPICAL BUMS!
Sullivan: Now you're re-using old lines, too?
It's okay, nobody will notice.
Abigail: Can you see your own future? Does it involve cops?
Matchmaker's zombie potion not working either?
Abigail: I should have known better, they always water down fountain drinks.
Sullivan: WHAM. Right in your heart. And it explodes.
Andrew: I believe you.
Please apply it liberally.
Abigail: What's he doing now?
Andrew: Something with the lawn flamingoes.
Abigail: You wouldn't think he could find any nefarious purposes for the lawn flamingoes.
Andrew: You wouldn't, if you didn't know him very well.
Sullivan: .oO(Oh, Mr. Skinnylegs, you are my only friend.)
Abigail: What are all these people doing on the street in the middle of the night?
Not discriminating between real community lots and decorative ones, I guess.
Abigail: Hello! Are you into violence against women, or mixed martial arts, or brains, or fisticuffs, or dust clouds?
Glen: AT LEAST ONE OF THOSE BUT I REFUSE TO SAY WHICH
Glen: JOIN MY ARMY OF THE DEAD!
Abigail: You stick your arm up my ass and you think you can make it all better with a Diablo II quote?!
Abigail: This seems like a lot of work just to get a scholarship.
OH YEAH? TRY APPLYING FOR A REAL ONE YOU FUCKING BITCH ARSDFGFGSFGHFSG
I hate October.
I'm glad you're upbeat about it.
Venkat and Poppy: -impromptu dance number-
Prof. Amin: Hey guys! What's up!
My neighbourhood is corrupted, apparently!
Prof. Amin: That's cool, that's cool.
Abigail: Somehow this doesn't feel like progress.
Phoebe: Tits! What a great idea!
Poppy: Thanks! I made them myself!
Sullivan: WHEN IS THIS SHIT GONNA GET INTERESTING AGAIN
Let me check.
LIke fifty chapters from now.
Abigail: Get this thing off me, would you? I think it's stuck.
I think you're right.
Shadow: .oO(Garish alien spaceships with umbrellas!)
What kind of a mad scientist doesn't know that zombies can't use technology?
Okay. Everybody needs to move out before I start screaming.
Computer: Help! I'm getting screwed by zombies.
Andrew: See? She's creeping me out. The kids are trying to sleep, for crying out loud!
Sullivan: So you're saying you want me to push her out the window?
Andrew: I was thinking you could just escort her outside.
Sullivan: Through the window?
Andrew: If it makes you happy, Sully, sure.
Stewart: mrgb. zmbs.
Andrew: Are we ever going to get past this zombie shit?
Yeah, we eventually move on to murder wizards and ghost terrorists.
That's a little out of character for you, don't you think, Sullivan?
Sullivan: Did you see that frown on her earlier? Bitch is fierce, man!
What are you doing.
Of these two kids right here.
Well, of course.
Pff, you're one to talk.
You make a lousy teenager, you know that?
Abigail: Higherrrrr educationnnnnn...
Stewart: I knew it! First it was the zombie apocalypse, now it's the weird chicks apocalypse! Bring it on, bitches! I know Jung Fu!
Emmy: I think you mean Kung Fu?
Stewart: The show with David Carradine? How would that help?
Honestly, I see where you're coming from, but I really can't agree.
Andrew: Honestly. Who puts a SimHawaiian rug in a modern condo?
Stewart: Honestly. What kind of secret agent can't even show you one way to kill a dude?
Stewart: This dude isn't dead yet?
Andrew: Been conducting mortality experiments, have we?
That's basically all this neighbourhood is.
Alright, time to move on. I'm feeling post-modern now.
One million Simoleons or best offer. Comes with crypt, prison, robots.
Leonard: Bye, half the neighbourhood!
Sullivan: Bye, shitsplatter!
NOW who's repeating jokes?
Sullivan: Still you.
Shit, you're right.
Stewart: It was good seeing you again, Andrew!
Andrew: I have no memories of you.
Andrew: So you rank pretty high, compared to the rest of my family.
Farewell, Rich Hill. You are nothing good.
Hello again, Main Street West! You have killed hundreds of people.
And you will again! But first, next time: what I said was going to happen this time, last time. I've got my times all mixed up. Where does the time go? Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'.
Into the future?