Let's Get Meta 2

The whole point of ISBI is to be surrounded by idiots. So Jerome moved in. And the struggle began.

Look at him with his needs all up in the orange. And there was nothing I could do to help him. Nothing!

The thing is, I like Jerome. He's a sweet guy who autonomously always does the right thing. Well, except for inexplicably opening the door for Derick. Jerome is much nicer than that so-and-so Michele turned out to be. So far she's turned out to be the real idiot in this story.

Also, here's a point update: 2 Milestones met-- +10

Howard Jones Was Wrong. Things Can Definitely Get Worse-- Chap 1 Episode 9

Michele had tried to warn Jerome. Living with her was not as fun as it looked from the outside. It broke her heart to see him so stressed. And the baby wasn't even here yet.

FML. FML sideways with a rusty chainsaw.
















It wasn't as if life was one big happy fun ball for Michele. Not when people came to her place of work to taunt her. Do not taunt happy fun ball.

"If you weren't hugely pregnant, I'd punch you square in the nose for what you did to my poor Derick."

"Uh, shouldn't you be happy I dumped his stupid balding, ascot wearing ass Lorraine?"

"Don't talk sense to me, hussy!"

"There is something wrong with your face."

"What do you mean Boss Lady?"

"It is distinctly un-clownlike. Fix this immediately. Also, I fart in your general direction."

If only she could spend the whole day trying to make Jerome laugh.

"You are so lucky, Jerome."

"How do you figure?"

"You get to spend your work hours with murderers and criminals. Unlike me. I get to spend mine with real jerks.

Like Howard Jones Said: Things Can Only Get Better-- Chap 1 Episode 8

The unforced threesome did seem to cool Derick's ardor. He only called three times in the month that followed. And, although Michele has been promoted a few times, her boss still thinks it is totally hilarious that Michele looks like a clown 8 hours a day. Could things get worse? Of course they could. The doorbell rings.

"Oh no!, Not Derick again!" Michele exclaimed to no one as she was alone. She should have been so lucky. It was Jerome's mom, Mrs. Gratz. She did not waste time or pull punches.

"You brazen hussy! Look at you, eating food on the porch like the low class whore that you are!"

"Um, what?"

"The whole town knows what you did to poor Derick. You will not be doing the same to my son!"

"I think you need to back the fuck off of me and ask your son exactly what happened with Derick."

"How DARE you?!!"

"I wear clown make-up every day. EVERY DAY!!!! I don't need this shit!"

Admittedly, Michele did not handle that encounter very well. She was not handling many things very well lately. Her emotions were just a tad out of control. And the eating. That was one thing Mrs. Gratz was totally right about. She could not stop eating. Uh oh.

Michele took a trip to the bathroom and peed on a stick. 

"How? HOW did this happen?"
"The normal way."
"Are you sure it's mine?"
"Almost 100% sure."












Jerome immediately bent down on one knee. Michele made him stand up again. "Oh, Jerome. This is not how I imagined getting engaged. Not like this. Not because of a baby."

"But you know I love you," Jerome replied.
"Do I?"
"You should!"
"Still. . . let me think about it. Please."
"Think about it all you like but you should know, I'm not going to live apart from my child. Whether you like it or not, I'm moving in!"

"Oh Jerome, you know I like it!"

When Will Derick Get The Message? Chap 1 Episode 7

Michele was determined to take things slow. Jerome had other ideas. And once Michele got a load of Jerome in his detective "uniform", she too started getting other ideas.

That snarl. That holster. The shiny badge. Thirsty!

Jerome would stop by after work and the two of them would talk and talk and talk some more. And then Derick would call. And Jerome would snarl. Until finally, that fateful day. . . .


It was a Sunday and neither Jerome nor Michele went to work. Jerome did the millionth nice thing for Michele: he fixed her sink. Without her even asking! Then Michele realized what an idiot she was being. She had jumped straight into bed with needy Derick but wonderful, handsome Jerome? He had to wait. But no longer.

"Do you want to sleep over?"

"Do bears put on Ranger hats and tell people not to burn down the woods so they can have a place to shit?"

"I'll take that as a yes."

But before the first kiss could be exchanged the doorbell rang. Oh no. Not Derick! Not now! What was he doing here?

"I. WILL. NOT. BE. IGNORED!"

"Michele, you have to get rid of him."

"O.K., I'll try."

"Yawn, hmmm. It's sleepytime Derick. Nightie-night!"

"Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite See you in the morning."

"I can't believe this dude is messing with my Netflix and chill time!"

Michele whispers in Jerome's ear. "How 'bout you meet me in the bathroom?"

Jerome sighs, this is not how he planned to spend his first night with Michele. However it was either this or kneecap the bastard with his service revolver, "All right."

"I should have chose 'kneecap the bastard""

"That is IT! Michele, come with me to the bedroom. Derick, get the hell out or stay. I don't even care anymore."

"Jerome, I don't think. . ."

"Are you coming or not? Because I can always leave."

Michele thought about it. She didn't want Jerome to leave. And perhaps this was the only way to get the message through Derick's thick, bald pate.

Nope, nothing gets through that big, bald pate.

It Must Be The Ascot -- Chap 1 Episode 6

"That was some introduction, lady. My name is Jerome-- in case you're interested. You know, since you climbed all over me. I thought maybe you'd like to know my name."

Shame. That's what coursed through Michele's veins. Shame and embarrassment.

"My name is Mud. Or Michele. Right now I think I'm going with Mud, though. I think I'll go over here and hide."

"Too late to hide, Michele. The least you can do is give me your number."






The truth was, Michele thought he was too handsome for her. He was so disgruntled and yet so gorgeous.

Plus he wore a scarf as an ascot. She knew she could not trust herself with a man wearing a scarf as an ascot. Giving Jerome her number would be wrong and foolish. So, of course she did.



A week went by and Jerome didn't call her. Derick did. He begged forgiveness for cheating on her. Michele pointed out that he did not cheat on her since she had called off what tiny little relationship they had 3 or so hours before he went out on his date. So, technically, his conscience should be clear. But he was inconsolable. When, on day 8, her phone rang again at exactly six thirty, Michele had had enough.

"Look Derick, don't make me have to call the cops!" she started before he could get a word in.
"No need to call the cops. The cops have called you," was the reply she received. It was Jerome. Michele was overjoyed. They made a date.


The Blue Velvet, the scene of most of Michele's crimes. And there was sexy as hell Jerome.

"Whoa, that scarf.

It does things to me.

Sexy, sexy things."

And Michele, learning from her mistakes, did not drink 5 Cupid Juices and went home by herself exactly as if she wasn't easy.

Goodbye Morris, er Derick-- Chapter 1 Episode 5

A promotion at work did not result in the removal of facepaint. Michele was feeling the frustration of stagnation at work and a one night stand mistake that would not go away. It was time for a heart to heart with Morri. . .er Derick. Michele girded her loins and headed to Derick's home.

"Sit down, we need to talk."

"It's me, not you."

"But sweetheart, I just got this new friendship bracelet with your name on it. To go with my snazzy puka bracelet."

"O.K., it is you."












Finally free, Michele felt it safe to go back to The Blue Velvet. This time she would keep an eye on her Cupid Juice intake!

Ah, The Blue Velvet-- always jumping. Full of fun and music and. . .wait, what?!

Why isn't he at home licking his wounds? It's like he didn't even care about the friendship bracelet! And what does that woman see in that ascot and white piping wearing bald guy? Why I oughta. . .. Michele stopped her inner tirade and checked herself. She oughta be happy for Derick. She wished him the best. If he feels to need to immediately start stalking some other unfortunate woman, who was she to cast aspersions? She didn't need him any way. There were other

ascot wearing fish in the ocean.
Other very sexy and barrel-chested fish.

So there!

The Aftermath -- Chap 1 Episode 4

The morning after-- so awkward! Michele really needs to get ready for work. Kind of hard when she is being followed around by a guy with sad, puppy-dog eyes.

"Morris, you can go home now."
"Derick. My name is Derick."
"Uh Derick, you can go home now."

"Dude!"

That wide-eyed moment when you realize what a giant mistake you've made.

Does he have scrambled egg in his neckbeard? Lordy, I've never been so glad to have to leave and put on face paint!

All during work Michele worried. She left Derick in her house when she left. She would have kicked him out, but he was cleaning her toilet at the time. And, true to her record of making very, very bad decisions, decided she'd let him clean her house if he really wanted to. Now, however, she feared he'd still be there when she got back. He wasn't.

Thank you, Jesus!

Men Will Do Incredible Things If WooHoo Is On The Table -- Chap 1 Episode 3

And just like that, the offending outfit was gone.

"This may be the five Cupid Juices talking but I'm finding that neckbeard of yours very attractive."

"And your puka bracelet, ROWR!"










With sloppy anticipation, Michele led Derick to the bedroom.  I can't wait to feel his soft neckhair against my angry bird t-shirt. The seductive caress of his smooth gleaming pate. This is going to be so great! This will be the biggest. . .

Ummmmm

 

Disappointment











Ever!

Let's Get Meta

Michele Ann, the protagonist and first Torch Bearer in my little experiment, is a selfie Sim. Meaning she is modeled after yours truly. I was pretty happy with her when I made her. She was a prettier version of me.

Yet somehow, EA managed to fat shame me. Because, when I play Michele Ann in the game, this is what she looks like:

There you have it. Even my pretend self is to fat to exist.

Looks Like Trouble --Chap 1 Episode 2

What an epic night of partying. What a stupid thing to do before your first day at work at. The karmic payback? Instead of giving tours or procuring beautiful pieces of art for the museum, Michele's bleary eyed performance garnered her a job in the Children's Art Room, where her daily uniform consists of pure humiliation.

Laugh clown, laugh

There is only one way to make this all right. More bad choices at The Blue Velvet!

The place isn't as lively as the last time Michele visited. Then again, the last time she visited wasn't a weekday. There is one guy. Balding. Wearing a blue blazer with white piping. And an ascot. Really? An ascot?

"Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

"Can you buy me three?"

Ascot Baldie was very friendly. And he purchased three drinks for Michele. This upped his attractiveness by a factor of, well, three. And after drinking all three drinks, Ascot Baldie started looking a lot like Morris Chestnut.

"I didn't know this place had live music, Morris," Michele said when Ascot returned with a fourth drink.

"Derick, sweetheart. My name is Derick. Should I call you sweetheart all night long?"

"If you like. Or you can call me Michele. I like sweetheart, though. Makes me feel pretty."

"You should feel like you look, sweetheart. Ready for a refill or would you like to dance?"

"One of my many talents is I can drink and dance at the same time."

"You are light on your feet and lovely to look at."

"You wear a scarf like an ascot, yet I don't think you are gay. At least I hope you aren't."

Nope. Not gay.

Through her four drink fog, Michele knew she should be heading home. Sure it was bad showing up for work hungover for two days in a row, but it was worse to show up for your first day hungover and miss your second day all together. She made her way outside only to be followed by Ascot Baldie Morris.

"Are you sure you're going to make it home alright? You look a little. . . off."

"Whatchoo talkin' 'bout? I always sway like the Leaning Tower of Pisa and scratch my butt through my pants."

"I think maybe I should take you home anyway."

So chivalrous, Michele thought as they wended their way down the pretty town streets. And cute too, if you ignore the baldness and the big head and the scrawny chest and the skinny legs. When they finally reached her front steps he asked, 

"What would a guy need to do to get invited inside?"

"Oh, I don't know about some guys," Michele said as she giggled, "But you need to not be wearing an ascot and white piping." 

"That can be arranged."

The First Torch Bearer Gets Settled In-- Chap 1 Episode 1

In a far off land where magical things happen, Michele Ann graduated from University with a degree in Art History and not only immediately found a job in her field, but  left school with 20,000 $ in hand instead of crushing student loan debt.  That was enough simoleans to buy a nifty little starter home in a pretty suburban neighborhood.

With a week before she had to start the daily grind at her job in the art gallery, Michele decided to get her party on and check out the 'hood. Because, according to her, what good was a job and a house without friends to go with it? And drinks. Plenty of drinks. Seriously. The cocktails were the best part of college.


The first place Michele hit was the museum. Because, duh! How else was she going to put her useless degree in Art History to use? Also-- hot guys who like art. There was no down side.

Right off the bat Michele met a cutie with a tattoo button down shirt and Beatrix-- a neighbor and co-worker. A discussion of Banksy's re-appropriation and mainstreaming of outsider art? Oh God, yes! Much fun was had at the museum. Only one thing was missing. Michele could not get her drink on. It was time to hit the lounge.

Oh yeah, this here spot is more than hot. In fact, the joint is jumping!

I Am Surrounded By Idiots

In life there must be rules and so there must be rules in this blog. As this is my first attempt at blogging a Sim Story, I'll probably break every single one of them. But here we go.

1. I will not write this story. The Sims will write it themselves.
2. To this end, I will try the I'm Surrounded By Idiots challenge. It will be a challenge for me as I am a Sims control freak. All my sims must be perfect little pretend people who lead perfect little pretend lives.
3. I will update at least once every two weeks. 
4. At the end of 10 generations I'll add up the score. If I end up on the positive side, I get a lovely dark beer. If I end up on the negative side, I'll choke down some nasty gin.

What are the rules of the ISBI challenge? Everybody knows. I'm the last to find out. Here are some bullet points to show which rules I will be following. Note, I said rules "I" will be following. They will closely follow the "official" rules. Except no crazy people. I hate that trait with all the giggling and talking to themselves for no reason. And I'm supposed to be surrounded by idiots, not the insane.

• Create a YA sim to my liking. This will be my Torch Bearer.
• Lifespan is Normal.
• Use my 20,000 simoleons as I see fit. No gaining money from moved in sims. No money cheats.
• No controlling any sim that is not the Torch Bearer. (Exception-- if sim is glitched and needs to be unglitched).
• Torch Bearer must have two children. Once the youngest reaches young adulthood, they become the Torch Bearer.
• All sims must remain in the household until death. (Exception-- if household limit of 8 is reached. Then the oldest has to go.)

There are a few free actions that can be chosen for non-Torch Bearers.

1. Claim a bed (once per sim only).
2. Torch Bearers spouse or partner is having a baby, can click on to induce labor.
3. Once non-Torch Bearer spouse or child ages up, can click birthday cake (that Torch Bearer has made.)
4. Can have non-Torch Bearer take pregnancy test.

And one more set of bullet points because why not. Scoring.

• Anyone in household self-wets -5.
• Anyone in household passes out -5.
• Anyone in household fails school -5
• Accidental death -10
• Social Worker visit -10
• Single birth +5
• Twins +10
• Triplets +10
• Any household sim completing any asperation milestone +5
• Any household sim completing any asperation +10
• Any skill maxed out by non-Torch Bearer +10
• Child earning A in school
• Non-Torch Bearer reaching top career.
• Every 100,000 earned +20 (calculated by adding house worth with cash on hand).

This is a test. This is only a test. If this had been an actual post, additional entertainment would have been provided. We repeat:This is only a test.


Meet Misty. She was released from The Home for The Orphaned and Chubby when she turned 18 with a dream to create art, a large appetite for life and food and 1800 simoleons.

She, being literal to the extreme, lived on the street, on the wrong side of the railroad tracks.

She was not daunted by this. In fact, she used the sound of the passing trains to lull her to sleep.



Too poor to afford her own art supplies, Misty stole them from the museum.
She was busted by the museum staff and charged 50 simoleons that she really could not afford. Luckily, a patron loved her painting and paid her 80s for it. Win!

However, this was no way to live a simlife. Misty had to get a job, and she did. The soul grinding world of commercial art did not get our indomitable Misty down. Every chance she got, she went to the museum to exhibit and sell. She began to notice that every day, one guy showed up to watch her paint. He came every day. Day after day.

He was so dreamy. Misty spent valuable painting time surreptitiously mooning over Joe Jr. Until one day he just walked up to her and asked what was her interpretation of Dali's paintings of his wife. "Obviously," Misty stammered, "he liked her right booby."

Joe Jr laughed. And then he laughed some more. He liked laughing. Misty liked that he liked laughing. Let's be honest, Misty really, really liked everything about Joe Jr. But would Joe Jr like her with her belly rolls and unperked chesticles?

Oh my, look at the beautiful cliche. Joe Jr falling for Misty's mind. She couldn't believe it. He genuinely liked her. From the very beginning. Everything she said, every silly joke she made, every painting she agonized over, Joe had nothing but love for. It emboldened Misty. She asked him out on a date.

It was like there was no one else in the world besides the two of them. So enthralled was Misty she didn't give it a second thought as they strolled closer and closer to where she lived. Until. . .

 "Oh sweetie, how are you living?" Joe Jr asked, filled with empathy. Misty turned away but Joe Jr would not have it. "It's O.K." he said, "You are not your home. You are not your belly, your clothes, your bank account. You are Misty."

Misty had no chill.












And Joe Jr loved it.

But Joe Jr did have one stipulation. If they were going to have a relationship, he would not continue to make love to her in full view of the train passengers as they rode by. He would work the club circuit.

She would continue to crush her soul in the corporate world. Even work herself to death as Mike Travis did if that what it took to keep Joe Jr.

And what Joe Jr wanted wasn't that much. Not really. All he wanted was some walls.

The two of them put those walls to good use. Night after night. Until the inevitable happened.

And Misty knew that kind, loving, sexy as hell Joe Jr would make the very best Papa Joe.