Fairlane500

This game basically follows the same rules as Which City Would You Rather Live In, except instead of cities, you use songs or artists. For Example: Poster 1: The Beatles or The Byrds? Poster 2: The Byrds Fly Like an Eagle or Vertigo? And so on. To start off the game: Aqualung or Locomotive Breath?

V is for Vulcan, of course. Anyone who doesn't know that's from Star Trek has been very deprived.

7/10 I'd definitely be scared if I saw that sign along the road.

Thanks, it's great to see you again too. I haven't been up to much exciting, just lots of schoolwork and the world that surrounds the college life. Right now I'm visiting Guam for a bit, which is quite a bit of a different world from Connecticut. I hope I haven't missed too much excitement around these parts. Oh, and I thinkI will take a friend egg sandwich and a glass of sweet tea, please.

You had to know Alex Winslow, or maybe not. Few knew much about him. It’s not that he wasn’t friendly, easy to talk to, or personable, but he was the kind that one would meet, and have little to no recollection of the next day. Alex pretty much referred to himself as “an enigma.” He was an aeronautical engineer, generally accepted as quite intelligent, and at six foot three, literally a notch above. Alex, however, was starting to feel his life was gaining repetitiveness, so he decided it was time to use up a significant amount of the vacation he had had managed to accrue, and set off on a road trip. Packing just about all the clothes, and other stuff he deemed necessary into his car’s trunk, he got in, and pulled away from his two-story, housing development-typical home in Bellevue, and set out for a journey down the coast, just him, and what was closest to him, his 1940 Chevrolet roadster. After looping up the Olympic Peninsula, Alex descended into Oregon state, and had gone a significant way down the state's coast, through Astoria, Cannon Beach, and Tilamook. It was approximately 8:15 PM, Pacific Standard Time, on that day, May 23rd, when Alex decided the next town he came to, hotel or not, he was stopping, and sleeping, as it was about to get dark. Several more miles of thick, lush Pacific Coast forest passed by him, and the railroad tracks beside, before the trees began to thin, and Alex emerged into a perfectly normal roadside hamlet. "Congress," the typical green sign beside the road read. Alex didn't recognize the name, but he figured "it's a tiny town, it might not even be on my road map." Alex continued through, seeing a larger town across the river ahead, and crossed the bridge into the community, just as the blinding sun on the horizon obscured the welcome sign just beyond the bridge's end, and cast the entire community in a brilliant, otherworldly, golden light. Not sure where he was, and not finding any form of motel, but tired, and not wanting to head farther in the dark, Alex decided to pull into a dirt lot near the riverbank, and take his night's sleep there, finding out where he was in the morning. Little did he know that his awakening would bring about much more than he ever expected to encounter on his journey.

Replies: Z77: I'm glad you remember it! Don't worry, I have plenty of plans in the works to make this region bigger, better, and more realistic for the sake of developing my story. Schulmanator: It definitely is. I had started to think I'd never make it back, but miracles do happen. Archean: Thanks. For some reason, I'm kind of the opposite, I can't really get myself to build big cities, so rural regions like this one really suit me. DCMetro: don't worry, I hope to keep them coming. I'm glad you like what you've seen. Update: Though Alex knew this wasn't the real world, as he sat at the traffic signal in downtown Nehalem City, he realized that he'd overlooked some other little details that made things seem eerily familiar. He let his mind drift into rewind, looking back at his path to this current locale. For one, he'd slowly wound along riverside highway through deep forest and the occasional homestead. Farther back, he'd taken a bridge across the "Brigand River," what should be the Nehalem, where he'd noticed a scattering of weathered pilings defiantly resisting their demise to rot. These likely were the staunch remains of a salmon cannery. Businesses that used to line rivers like the Nehalem by the dozens, but had now faded to the past. So, the industries were right. Some things must never change, though, why anything would have changed was still beyond his comprehension. Going farther back, he rembered passing through the island hamlet of Brigand, which was pretty much unremarkable. "Wait a second!" he exclaimed, realizing something he'd just skipped in his recollection. Frantically grabbing the useless road map from the passenger seat, he scanned for Nehalem Bay, and noticed the little community of Wheeler, Oregon along Highway 101. Thinking back to an intersection he'd passed, he'd chosen to head for Nehalem City due to the name recognition, completely overlooking the mundane name down the opposite branch in the road. Wheeler was still there. Or at least the name was; as for its status, he would have to investigate.

The first seems kinda of Eastern Europeanish to me, though I'm just guessing. So I'll say Kaliningrad, Russia.

So, I keep telling myself that I should just give up on this as dead, but something inside me keeps me from doing that. I don't even have SimCity 4 installed right now, and I think I've lost all the cities and the entire region I was building...so it should be done. But, I have found a treasure trove of screen shots I compiled from the region, and never used, so let us see where I can go, and with a little luck, see if I can get back into this game that I love. To the story: Let's revisit the central character for a bit. This was all really starting to get to Alex Winslow. He just couldn't shake that feeling, that deep bit of insight that told him something was wrong. He had told himself more times than he could ever hope to count that maybe it was all just a dream. But, it was all just to real. Every time he dreamed, things were inconsistent, even the most believable of concoctions slipped up with a hit into left field. This one didn't, it had to actually be happening. Again, he knew it was all too real Take Nehalem City Alex knew the river he had just followed, it was definitely the Nehalem, yet it wasn't, the sign as he crossed it called it the "Brigand." Weird, right? But the city at its mouth, where Nedonna Beach, Oregon should have been, was named Nehalem City, and it was just so real. The main street The commercial strip The coal port It was like any port city on the Pacific Coast should be. It had to be real. Yet, Alex knew that it couldn't be.

Just thought I'd drop in for a second to say hi. It seems like eons since I've passed through.

10 has got to be Mark Twain.

Figured it out, Stanley Cup champions, thus #3 is Raleigh, NC, and #5 is Newark, NJ.

3) Hack Wilson EDIT: 191-RBI 10) Newark, NJ EDIT: 4) 5

Here's a little peek at a bit of the suburbs from the city of Belvedere, part of a Pacific Northwest themed region I've been working on.

Here are a few of my little communities: First, the seaside community of Napier And the sleepy little town of Sauchuk:

I have to admit, the first time I heard U2's "Vertigo," I had the odd perception that it started off "Hello, Hello, Madam please call Vertigo." Instead of the correct "I'm at a place called Vertigo."

1. "Levon" by Elton John Edit: 5.) Both the Spencer and Henry repeating rifles were early successful magazine-fed weapons, both debuting in the Civil War era.

Awesome mosaics, everyone! It's been a while since I've been around, work here at school has been hitting me hard, but here's a bit of a preview of a region I've been working on:

You may find mine, RollIng Down the Railroad, to be an interesting concept to review. However, you may want to just start with my recent return, since it had beena while previous to that, either way is fnethough, there's definitely much more material by doing the whole thing.

Well, I just actually finished eating a slice of: Peanut butter, honey, and banana pizza.

Well, I know a few of these off the top of my head... 1. Bruce Springsteen- "Jungleland" 2. Greg Kihn- "Breakup Song" 3. No idea. 4. Bruce Springsteen- "Dancing in the Dark" 5. No idea.

The Replies: Will: Thanks, glad you're enjoying it. Voulpiotis: Welcome, nice to see you excited to read more. Jacky: Hey, thanks, I'm glad you're liking where I'm taking my story, even with my lack of ability to add in-game material. KingTitan: Sorry about the lack of pictures, I'm sort of separated from the game until Christmas, but trying to keep the story going until then. Yoshiisland: I'm happy to see your enjoying my choice of images. I'm so glad so much has been documented in photography over the years that can be utilized. December 29th, 1941:Harley Young played his part well. His skipper's cap, placed jauntily over a round face framed by a white beard, fit right into the picture as he guided the Jenny Simpson, an 85 foot wooden-hulled purse seiner, out of New Baltimore harbor and into the early-morning mist. Turning north, Young was planning on following the coast up to a point just southwest of the Columbia River mouth, where his favorite fishing grounds were. However, a sucessful day fishing was not meant for the crew of the Jenny Simpson. After rounding Ecola Head, a dark shape suddenly began to materialize out of the haze directly ahead of the vessel. Realizing something massive was in their path, Young's reflexes spun the wheel to wrench the boat to starboard as the dark mass showed itself to be a large freighter, riding low at the stern, but still proudly afloat. Young knew something was amiss, not only was the vessel drifting under no power, and askew at an angle, but there was no sign of anyone aboard, and the running lights were all switched off. Confounded, but still obeying his years of experience on the sea, Young radioed for a salvage tug, but time for the frighter was short. By the time the tug arived, the currents had already worked her into the sands of an isolated beach, never to be pulled off and sail again.

Everclear- "Song From an American Movie, Pt. 1"

And, on with a new story: "Hard to port, engines full astern! Radio Fort Stevens that we're under attack!" cried out Captain J. T. McCulloch. "I won't let them get us if I have my way!"The last minute reaction had an effect, the type 95 torpedo missed the bow of the freighter by mere inches. Unfortunately for McCulloch, his crew, and the SS Pacific County, the captain of the Imperial Japanese Navy submarine I-17 knew what he was doing, and had fired a second torpedo a short time after the first. This torpedo managed to find its mark, hitting the Pacific County just below the waterline in the number 4 hold. Not wanting to be caught in the explosion of any additional warheads, the captain ordered his crew to abandon ship just as a PBY Catalina, dispatched from Warrenton, Oregon arrived in the area. The I-17 submerged before an attack could be launched, and slinked out of the area. On a happy note, the entire crew of the Pacific County was rescued by the destroyer Preston. Additionally, the containment of flooding to the number 4 hold, and the cargo of lumber the Pacific County was carrying kept her afloat, but a salvage mission failed to materialize due to the submarine danger, and the abandoned freighter drifted ever closer to the coast.

Well, I'm back around now, I'd dare say. it's been a while, hasn't it? But, to suit my return, I had to give a new avatar a try, what do y'all think? Anyways, while I'm here, I'll have some steak fries and a lemonade.

Replies: Markus J: I'm quite pleased to hear you like, and I do hope you stick around to read more. seahawk fan: Oh yeah, there's always something interesting when you just can't figure something out. Thanks, and go Seahawks! Will: Glad to see you're still around, I hope it stays that way. Well, no update tonight, but I'm getting down a good outline of my next entry. I'll just give some spoilers by saying that involves envents that at one piin t would lead to war, and a mystery behind them.