vladof-revolution - Tumblr blog

vladof-revolution · 7 days

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vladof-revolution · 10 days

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'All literature consists of whatever the writer thinks is cool. The reader will like the book to the degree that he agrees with the writer about what's cool. And that works all the way from the external trappings to the level of metaphor, subtext, and the way one uses words. In other words, I happen not to think that full-plate armor and great big honking greatswords are cool. I don't like 'em. I like cloaks and rapiers. So I write stories with a lot of cloaks and rapiers in 'em, 'cause that's cool. Guys who like military hardware, who think advanced military hardware is cool, are not gonna jump all over my books, because they have other ideas about what's cool.'

-Steven Brust (2010)

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vladof-revolution · 18 days

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i bet crossing spears with someone to block entry into a location feels so fucking good

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vladof-revolution · 19 days

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you ever think about how sad it is that the guys in that submarine died 7 times faster than the brain's pain response threshold and thus didn't suffer at all

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vladof-revolution · 25 days

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"Confound it all, Sam wise Gamgee. Have you been booping?"

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vladof-revolution · 26 days

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vladof-revolution · 28 days

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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

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vladof-revolution · 1 month

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I think I met the Lowe's version of a fey creature today.

I broke the filter on my kitchen faucet and needed to go get a replacement. As any child will attest, Lowe's is already kind of a liminal timeless space between worlds and I had no clue where to find the tiny piece I was looking for to fix the faucet and quickly became lost in the near-deserted plumbing and sink section.

After about ten minutes I finally found an employee and flagged them down to beg for help. It was an older gentleman with messy silver hair and a long droopy handlebar mustache. A good 5 inches taller than me and probably 90 lbs soaking wet. Unsure if he even worked in the sink department, I held up the broken filter from my sink and asked if he knew where I could find a replacement.

He looked down at the filter, back at me, down again, and then a twinkle came into his eye and he said "Don't buy those. Follow me."

He spun on his heel and tromped off, beckoning me to follow.

Leading me to the aisle of sinks and vanities on display he stopped at a nondescript brown unit. Glancing surreptitiously from side to side, he gave a wink and then opened the drawer on the display sink and reached waaaaay to the back. And then he pulled out a handful of filters. Then reached in and pulled out another. All different sizes and colors. He scattered them across the shelf like a little pile of treasure.

"I keep these from the faucets that have passed on and are no longer with us."

He took the broken filter from me and started combing through the pile. Picking up one after another until he found one in the same size as mine. It was still in the ring from the faucet and he dug at it for a minute before frowning at me.

"The washer's stuck. You have young hands. Can I have your fingers?"

I've read enough fairy tales to know where THAT path led, so I said "No it's okay. I'll get it." I popped the washer out and he smiled.

"You put that in your pocket and head on home. No register."

Then he winked again and strolled away.

So if anyone was curious. There's a portal to the Fey Realm somewhere in the kitchen fixtures section at Lowe's.

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vladof-revolution · 1 month

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dungeon meshi but they end up in the back rooms, a cursed idea that was eating away at my brain

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vladof-revolution · 1 month

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"But not shipping this character is infantilizing!" Skill issue if you can't think of any way to make it clear that a character is an autonomous adult besides putting them in a romantic/sexual relationship.

#aromantic #asexual

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vladof-revolution · 1 month

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Rockerboy✨

Yeah so this is my new favourite drawing lmao, literally was just like ‘oh what if she had this outfit I want’ gave her the destroyer guitar and was like yeah ok cool, enjoy 💕.

#tyreen calypso

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vladof-revolution · 1 month

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