gallimaufry

miriamforster: I reblogged this so fast I hurt myself. Srsly,...

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:06:04 -0400

miriamforster:

I reblogged this so fast I hurt myself.

Srsly, Tribs. GO HOME.

thefrogman: [video] This is me when I think about Going to...

Mon, 20 May 2013 19:51:27 -0400

thefrogman:

[video]

This is me when I think about Going to Phoenix ComicCon on Thursday. http://www.phoenixcomicon.com

xombiedirge: Evil-Lyn by Oscar Jimenez AW, YISSS. Villainess...

Mon, 20 May 2013 15:19:23 -0400

xombiedirge:

Evil-Lyn by Oscar Jimenez

AW, YISSS. Villainess in the hizzy!

laughingsquid: Guy Shaves His Facial Hair to Look Like the...

Mon, 20 May 2013 12:43:24 -0400

laughingsquid:

Guy Shaves His Facial Hair to Look Like the Batman Logo

GUY WINS THE INTERNET.

simon-the-jewish-vampire: jacesiwillsmalec: sassygayseraph: me...

Sun, 19 May 2013 20:14:00 -0400

simon-the-jewish-vampire:

jacesiwillsmalec:

sassygayseraph:

mermaidsandmugshots:

chrisdiaswin:

motionburnsthemood:

Abandoned Amusement Park in New Orleans

Aaaaand this is the post that inspired the YA I sold to Simon Pulse last year for 2014 publication. SERVANTS OF THE STORM, set in Savannah and based on a fictitious, demonic hurricane. Be there or be square and wear fox ears.

A second visit to the McKittrick

Sun, 19 May 2013 18:49:31 -0400

Drinks at 5 at Gallow Green. We were the first ones up. The table legs looked like alligator tails. The cheese plate was divine, and although I hate honey and I hate beer and I hate jam, I ate it all and loved it and wished for more. Had a Vanessa’s Cup and a St. Germain and Prosecco and then drank most of my husband’s Ardbeg when he was in the restroom. The Gardener showed up toward the end of our stay but he seemed rather busy. And it was so bright out. And I had no mask.

On the way down, the bellman wrote something on a card and gave it to me. I tucked it into my bra. Later, I tried to read it. “Very feisty”, perhaps? He said to give it to his brother, should I see him.

Secret dinner party at 6:30. Have you ever asked someone, “Where do we go for the secret dinner party?”, and they look at you like you’re adorable and stupid and should know that THERE IS NO SUCH THING. And then you go down to the line and check your bag and enter the elevator and show your card to the bellman, and he’s all, I THINK THAT’S FOR YOU, and you just want to know what it says, and now you know you never will. I struggled with what to tell my husband on his first visit, and so I told him only what I wish someone had told me: if you get bored, go to the Manderley or the lobby. And whatever happens, just go with it.

We disembarked in a grand room filled with tables. Found wine. Found seats. Made polite conversation with the girls across the table and learned they were also in publishing, and we had such an amazing, half-drunken conversation that I barely remember the food and then suddenly there was a contortionist on the table with her feet in the broccoli rabe and we kept talking, anyway. The butter was unbelievable. The kale was lemony and black. The beef was gone in a heartbeat, and the grits were like the personification of the word “warm”. Someone said, “Wow, you must really like pudding,” and I was amazed to discover that I had eaten half a mug of chocolate pudding without even tasting it. I had eaten raspberries— HATEFUL BASTARD RASPBERRIES— and hadn’t even noticed it. The dry white wine I’d started off with was gone; now it was red and even drier, and I began to think that there had been something else in between. They urged us up and away, and then I was swallowing port like a shot. I ran to the restroom to lose my husband, because I wanted him to not think of me the entire time he was in the McKittrick. He found me anyway. I put on my mask and lost him again.

Where did we begin? When? I don’t remember. I think I started off on the floor with the hospital beds, and I shook my head. I’d seen this. I ran downstairs, all the way down. The first time I visited, I thought there were only three floors. Not until the final scene did I know the ballroom existed. I didn’t know the Manderley was part of anything. So this time, hellbent on madness, I stormed into the lobby. Followed the Porter, with his Basset-hound eyes and dapper cleaning and sad little origami boat. He turned and looked into my eyes, and I wanted to cry with him. He grabbed my hand and whisked me down a dark hallway, and soon I emerged from my first 1:1 through a curtain of dead pheasants and wearing a ring that fit perfectly. As if they knew.

I found a beautiful boy with kohl-lined eyes dancing in the lobby, and he handed me his jacket. I put it on. He shook his head, gave me A LOOK. No, silly girl. Put it on ME. I helped him put it on, and he led me to a chair and got on stage and sang Is That All There Is. I had an existential crisis and found a bottle in my hand and toasted him, then drank deeply.

Things got muddy. What was in that drink? I think I lost him, running in the dark, but I saw Lady MacDuff and her fellow dance along some shelves. I felt faint and sought the candy store and left with a handful of orange slices as two ghosts watched and whispered like schoolgirls who were going to rat me out to the teacher. I threw a piece of candy at one and regretted it later; I was hungry.

I went to the taxidermy room and found the taxidermist. Last time, he’d fascinated me, but I’d been too scared to approach. This time, I was the only person in the room. I walked up, watched his hands move with surgical precision. He showed me a secret and looked into my eyes, and I completely understood him in a heartbeat. Grabbing my hand, he yanked me through a wormhole of darkness. As we pounded down the stairs, I realized that I hadn’t held anyone’s hand but those of my husband and children in twelve years. That I didn’t want him to let go. That I loved the feeling of being pulled along into the unknown.

We landed in the final ballroom scene. He pulled me through the crowd, positioned me with a prime vantage point. Stood behind me, hands on my shoulders. His steady fingertips communicated a million things. I reached to my shoulder to touch him, and then the noose dropped, and I jerked in his arms. He led me to the bar and disappeared, and I couldn’t speak, could only give the sign for thank you, or what I think is the sign for thank you.

What else? I saw the ballroom dance for the first time. Saw the strobe light orgy. Saw the bathtub scene. Turned away from every scene I’d seen before: from the bar fight, the scene in the town, the suitcase, the tea dance, the tailor, the nurses, the detective. I was so desperate to fill in the gaps of what I’d missed last time, so hellbent on cramming in as much as I could, that I felt like a harpy racing up and down the stairs, daring anyone to get in my way.

All the time thinking, “What if this is my last stay at the McKittrick. IT CAN’T BE. But what if it is?”

I’m a writer. I spend most of my time in my head, exploring possibilities. This show taps into the primal allure of darkness and unapologetic strangeness for me; I feel at home in every room, in every scene. It’s like being in the Black Lodge but being of the Black Lodge. I could spend days there and never be satisfied. I’m already starting a mental list of things to seek on my third visit… and hoping for a good reason to get there.

Thank you, McKittrick, for another sleepless night. <3

Having trouble reacclimatizing to life outside the McKittrick....

Sun, 19 May 2013 16:20:09 -0400

Having trouble reacclimatizing to life outside the McKittrick. The lights are too bright, and it doesn’t smell like fog. And I can’t seem to get this ring off…

Pretty sure that was one of the most intense and meaningful...

Sat, 18 May 2013 23:51:47 -0400

Pretty sure that was one of the most intense and meaningful experiences of my life. Pretty sure I’m married to the porter now. Pretty sure the taxidermist is the first man besides my husband to touch me like that in 11 years. Pretty sure Sleep No More is unbelievable. <3

Dear tumblr: NEVER CHANGE.

Thu, 16 May 2013 23:02:39 -0400

Dear tumblr: NEVER CHANGE.

Told you I see thestrals. I also brake for nargles.

Thu, 16 May 2013 19:00:39 -0400

Told you I see thestrals. I also brake for nargles.

nevver: Message to a Graduate Also, when in doubt, set the...

Tue, 14 May 2013 19:41:45 -0400

incidental comics grant snider

incidental comics grant snider

nevver:

Message to a Graduate

Also, when in doubt, set the past on fire.

my 4yo is weirder than your corgi: Blasphemy and Iron Man

Tue, 14 May 2013 19:34:28 -0400

my 4yo is weirder than your corgi: Blasphemy and Iron Man:

littledudesays:

him: HERE’S DIS CROSS I MADE AT SCHOOL. THEY KILLED CHEESE-ITS WITH IT.

me: You mean Jesus?

him: YEAH I MEAN CHEESE-ITS.

me: Tell me more.

him: THEY HIT HIM WITh DIS CROSS AND HE DIED.

me: That’s not actually true. They nailed his hands and feet to it, and he died.

him: AND THEN…

So this is my other blog. You might enjoying following it if you love hilarity.

Vampire Defense

Mon, 13 May 2013 08:21:16 -0400

finishingschoolbooks:

A difficult lesson, but necessary. Any reputable school ought to offer at least one course in vampire defense. Eton has three.

Note: If it’s a Bludman, try to make out with him first.

tenderghost: awwww-cute: One of my friends got chased by...

Mon, 13 May 2013 08:10:32 -0400

tenderghost:

awwww-cute:

One of my friends got chased by little piggies during his bike ride

this is the opposite of a problem

This is why I hate bicycling. The BACON GANG.

gothiccharmschool: dickensian-dandy: Tina Fey and bunny I...

Mon, 13 May 2013 07:33:17 -0400

gothiccharmschool:

dickensian-dandy:

Tina Fey and bunny

I love this. LOVE.

This would make a great cover for WICKED AS THEY COME.

thefrogman: colchrishadfield: With deference to the genius of...

Mon, 13 May 2013 07:22:21 -0400

thefrogman:

colchrishadfield:

With deference to the genius of David Bowie, here’s Space Oddity, recorded on Station. A last glimpse of the World.

Huge thanks in the making of the video to the talented trio of Emm Gryner, Joe Corcoran and Andrew Tidby, plus Evan Hadfield and all at the CSA.

Look, if you don’t want to see an astronaut, in space, floating around, with the voice of an angel, singing Space Oddity, you’re probably an orc or something.

Thanks to Commander Chris Hadfield and Bobak Ferdowsi, I care about space for the first time in my life. That’s the power of social media… and cool people.

anniewu: ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT TRAILER. Could use more Lucille...

Mon, 13 May 2013 07:11:51 -0400

anniewu:

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT TRAILER.

Could use more Lucille Bluth though. Everything could use more Lucille Bluth.

MY BODY IS READY.

Also, nice ostrich.

eximplode: nevvymaster: captainhanni: if anyone has a tough...

Mon, 13 May 2013 07:07:55 -0400

eximplode:

nevvymaster:

captainhanni:

if anyone has a tough year ahead of them or behind them

this japanese fisherman will get you back on your feet, i can guarantee

I WON’T GIVE UP, JAPANESE FISHERMAN!!!

THIS IS ACTUALLY SURPRISINGLY INSPIRATIONAL, EVERYONE NEEDS A JAPANESE FISHERMAN TO YELL AT THEM SOMETIMES OKAY

IF HE CAN HARVEST ASIATIC CLAMS, YOU CAN KEEP TRYING!

everlytrue: [by Yulia Brodskaya] Truest.

Thu, 09 May 2013 07:43:03 -0400

everlytrue:

[by Yulia Brodskaya]

Truest.

HYSTERICAL LITERATURE: THE ORGASM AS ART | Criminal Wisdom

Wed, 08 May 2013 22:53:24 -0400

HYSTERICAL LITERATURE: THE ORGASM AS ART | Criminal Wisdom:

Want to see something beautiful?

Watch.