Yes, I *was* shamed out of Champs les Sims. It was a regrettable incident involving one pig of a paparazzi and what by rights should have been a private room in the hostel. Let us draw the veil.
We're in Willow Creek now, with hectares of land available at the price of taxes in arrears and my family's tradition of providing the finest flowers to the markets. That, a few simoleans, my telephone and the clothes on my back are the present sum of my worldly goods.
Magnolia Blossom Park is directly across the road. Unhappily, magnolia blossoms or no, there is nothing harvestable at this time of the year.
Yes, I'm *aware* that strawberry plants grow small white flowers before a berry harvest arrives. Does that help me today? So much for my idea to commence with a grand garden. Alas for my idea to pluck the occasional fresh fruit to ward away starvation. Mais toujours gai.
An unattended plate of hot dogs! Sweet!
Oh, excuse me. Were these your hot dogs?
I was, ummm, protecting them from the flies.
Happily, most people here are more amiable. I can just introduce myself, join the picnic and make friends at the same time.
Ye watchers and ye holy ones, these toilets are palatial!
Private? Not so much.
My original plan to study archaeology serves me well, derailed or no. Willow Creek is replete with dig sites. Already, I've found fossils, gems, treasure maps and MySims trophies, all of which I'm oddly reluctant to sell, dearly as I need the money. Yes, surely I *am* a hoarder.
So what is it to you that I'm only here for the shower? Show me the sign saying that it's necessary to work out first!
Will someone please remind me again *why* it's better to save for a high quality bed?
So these are the days. Find the sandwiches...
Forage...
Pretend that the shower is an afterthought,,,
Find the bench.
It could be that it *is* better to find a job. What a horror!
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