#vasoline glass

[vesselforsale]

VINTAGE VASOLINE GLASS GOBLET | LISTING 

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 40 - Mirror, Mirror

Astarion goes fishing (and not for fish).

On AO3.

Y’all coulda made it back by nightfall, now that y’all know where you’re going. But both Wyll and Gale agree that arriving after a whole day of hiking is a bad strategy (to the disappointment of Karlach and the disgust of Lae’zel). So y’all stop about an hour away—close enough y’all can be rested when you get there, but not so close a patrol might trip over somebody’s tent.

Gale has a spare canvas, nobody has spare poles or stakes; Karlach solves that problem by sauntering to the edge of the trees and ripping three saplings out of the ground to whittle into poles with that bigass ax.

She drives them into the ground and does not use a hammer.

You ain’t the only one watching this with a little too much interest.

big lady your brain chants.

She carries a regular pack, from which she pulls out a blanket that smells vaguely like vasoline, and a raggedy teddy bear she introduces as Clive. The bear is singed around the edges, and seems nearly shellacked in the not-vasoline stuff on the blanket. Some kinda fire-resistant salve she says.

She’s careful not to touch nobody, or even get too close. You watch this, lips pressed tight, chest hurting for her.

Dinner is, once again, bread and cheese and wine. No fire so close to the tollhouse. Karlach strikes up a conversation with Lae’zel about the best way to twist somebody’s head off, while Shadowheart watches over the rim of her goblet.

Gale, without much to do in the way of a cook fire, plops down outside his tent with a book, several scrolls, and an ink pot to start scratching away. Meanwhile, Wyll volunteers to go on patrol—make sure y’all really are out of fake paladin range—and set up some snares. You can’t tell if he’s upset with y’all’s decision to let Karlach join, or if he don’t like her around, or if it’s some secret third thing that’s got him so tense. He’s seemed like a real good dude—though everybody has shit takes on something.

The sun sinks low and the light goes gray as evening deepens. Lae’zel actually takes a night off from breaking your ass (either distracted by Karlach, or deciding that leaving you like, rested, increases your chances of not fucking anything up tomorrow).

Which leaves you just…hanging out. For the first time, you have the mental and physical energy to stay awake, but you have no phone, no internet, no books or movies or anything to fiddle with. Maybe you could work on that strip of linen Astarion “gifted” you. But then he’d see you doing it and start shit and besides, you got no clue how to sew.

You’re so busy trying to think up a way to be busy, that you notice the man skulk out of his tent. He’s got something shiny in his hand. He’s positioned his tent slightly facing away from the fire, tonight, which leaves it facing your tent more than usual. He’s not, like, hiding, but he’s not out in the open as he holds up what you realize is a mirror.

Huh. Lots of different cultures have vampire lore; you wonder if the mirror thing is accurate. You got nothing better to do, so you find yourself trailing over, coming up behind him.

“Looking at something?” he says. It’s addressed to you, even though he hasn’t glanced over.

“Saw me coming?” you say.

He stares a moment longer, before turning. There’s no sparkle to his eyes, tonight. His lips are a straight line. “The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn’t make up for a lack of reflection, mind you.”

Ah. That part of the lore is true, then. Ouch.

“Sorry to hear that,” you say. “You must miss it.”

And then you want to kick yourself over how stupid that sounds.

“Preening into the looking glass? Petty vanity?” he says all flamboyant. Until he deflates. Until you see what might be a flash of sadness in him. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You didn’t know about the eye color thing. None of the others are anywhere nearby; you wonder if that’s why he’s letting this show. He’s never made so much as a peep that wasn’t joke-flirting, complaining, stabby, or bored.

“What color were they before?” you say. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I—” he starts. Blinks a few times and there’s the barest shiver of, dare you call it, vulnerability in his face. “I don’t know. I can’t…remember.”

He stares out at nothing for a pause. Don’t got the presence of mind to slip the smarmy mask back on. It’s like he…like he just realized that. Doesn’t remember his own eyes.

Then his face shutters. Tight-lipped anger slips down and buries all traces of confused horror. He chucks the mirror to smash on the ground.

You try not to wince even as you take a step back.

“My face is just another dark shape in my past,” he says. Looks away. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can forget some details about your own face, sometimes. You don’t generally wear makeup (never learned, and then when you could, that shit is expensive), and your hair mostly sorts itself out when you comb conditioner through it in the shower. So you don’t see your reflection every day (the ladies room at the office don’t have a mirror—used to be a closet until the seventies or eighties when they converted it).

But you know your eyes are dark brown the way you know your own name. It’s just a fact about you. You can’t imagine what it would take to just…lose that.

“How long you been a vampire?” you say.

His gaze flits around a second. “About two hundred years, give or take. Things start to run together a little.”

Two…two hundred years? Under that fuckface? Without ever being able to see himself?

Holy fucking shit.

Holy fucking shit.

And yet, he’s standing here, traveling with all y’all, acting…well, not normal. But he ain’t catatonic. He’s only killed people when y’all were fighting already, and he only tried to bite you the once (without asking). He’s talking to you, and he makes jokes and…

And he said you were his first “thinking creature” blood.

In two hundred fucking years.

The kind of strength it would take to scrape himself together and hold in there…even if it was barely. Even if he wasn’t all there. You’d known that shit for over a decade. But two hundred motherfucking years.

You been staring. He notices, and turns to you. “What?”

The man teases you. Steals from goddamn refugees (he has got to stop that). And he hasn’t seen his face in two centuries. You can maybe afford to make a fool of yourself if the idea blooming in your brain makes a fool outta yourself.

“I can be your mirror,” you say, your neck heating up, trying not to squirm. “You don’t have to. Or I don’t have to. If I made this weird, that is. I can, uh, leave.”

His eyebrows twitch down into a micro frown. He stands there a hot second, sucks in a breath through his nose. His mask is slipping again, and the man underneath…

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” he says. “What, well, what you see.”

Slight emphasis on the “you” that you ain’t gonna read too much into.

A long face. Thick brows. A strong, straight nose. Thick lips, pointy chin, and floofy, white hair.

You ain’t never really described somebody in detail. Not like this, and not to their face directly. You ain’t a poet or an artist. This was probably a really bad idea.

“Your face is very, uh, symmetrical,” you say.

He pauses a moment, before drawing back. “Oh darling, you’re terrible at this.”

Fuck you, too!

“Well, I mean, it’s the most noticeable thing aside from the granny hair.”

And now he fucking recoils.

“What? I have the best hair in camp. If this is your idea of a joke—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” you say. It’s only kinda a lie. It’s granny hair, no two ways about it. “Your hair is very shiny and it looks real soft. The rest of you” —you wave your hand vaguely around— “looks good.”

“Really?” His usual smirk slips back on and he damn near purrs. Then he lifts his hands and gives a slow, little runway spin. “Anything in particular?”

Jesus lord. Man’s moods turn on a fucking dime and he cannot stop being a prima diva.

You think. What would you want to know about your own face? You got no idea how elves age or how old he was when he got bit. He looks young, in the dim light, but there’s an age to him, a smattering of fine lines at the corners of his eyes that you started noticing on yourself recently. You ain’t gonna mention how gaunt his cheeks are, even if they do make the bones stand out all high fashion or whatever. It ain’t a healthy look (any time anybody mentions native cheekbones, you have to bite back the little historical fact that a lot of those photos was of starving natives, of course their cheekbones stood out like that, their food sources were butchered, burned, or a thousand miles away after a forced march).

You’re gonna ask in the morning if Wyll can bring back what his snares catch before he field-dresses them, and ask Astarion if he wants the blood. Man needs to eat more often. Put some goddamn flesh on them bones (oh god, you sound like your aunties).

“You got these eye creases when you smile,” you say.

But he does not take that as the compliment you mean.

“Excuse me?” he says like you just called his mama ugly. “I’m an eternally young vampire, forever beautiful.”

Forever corpse-y.

“It’s a good thing.”

“It sounds an awful lot, my dear, like you just called me old.”

“You just said you was at least two hundred.”

He gestures down to himself. “Vampire. Come on, darling, you can do better than this sorry excuse.”

And then the man has the audacity to fucking pose. Hand on his hip. Shoulders swaying like some old-timey, rich debutante.

“This whole thing is just you fishing for compliments, huh?” you say.

He looks at you like you’re the weird one. “Well of course it is. Now don’t leave me waiting.”

You ain’t sure if this entire cluster started as a sham, or if it just naturally devolved into one (he’s very good at the latter). His frustration had seemed genuine, though. He wouldn’t meet your gaze for a time. And you’re picking up on a pattern: obfuscation. He gets all fussy and theatric right around the time you notice (or he notices, maybe) he’s expressing something that ain’t flirt or murder.

You…kinda want to see what he’s trying to hide. What’s actually under that mask you caught a glimpse of.

In any case, it’s funner to play along right now, so you don’t got to think about the bullshit waiting tomorrow.

What would a vain peacock like him want to hear?

“Your eyes,” you say. “They’re real sharp, especially when you’re focused on something. I think people call that ‘piercing.’”

He rolls said eyes. “Acceptable. Finally. Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can end this travesty.”

And you can’t help yourself. “Well, Karlach is beautiful. You’re fine, though.”

The moment of truth. See if he’ll engage…

He gasps, but through a grin. Literally splays his fingers over his chest. “How dare you. I thought we had something special.”

Warmth flutters through you. You set the game down and he picked it up. He’s returning it. Holy shit, you went and established banter with a maybe-friend. It’s a damn good thing you got so much practice keeping your face blank.

He clucks his tongue. Nudges at you with his hip. “Still. You’re nice, too.”

Well that’s an overstatement. You are plain and plus sized, and it ain’t some false-modesty thing. If you ain’t in some colorful or flowery blouse, you can feel kids staring at the store. More than once you caught a, “Is that a boy or a girl” and a parent frantically shushing.

You’d always thought the boobs would be a giveaway (they ain’t subtle), but hey, baggy clothes.

Sailing too close to the rocky Shore of Truth. Time to veer back into the humor pool. You deadpan. “Oh good. The pretty boy thinks I’m acceptable. Now I won’t have to cry myself to sleep in shame.”

The smallest snort tears out of him. Seems to catch him off guard. But he quickly folds it under his mask and sighs. “I’d better go get some beauty sleep, darling. Seems like I need it if I’m to catch up with the competition.”

“You do that,” you say, letting a tiny grin crack your own stoic mask.

Which he returns.

Which is right when the ground in the middle of camp cracks open and some kinda hell goo burbles up, spinning in a vortex, before it bursts into flame. Out pops a winged demon lady with her tits half out.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[cantaloupe]

‘i’m on a plant based diet’ i say while drinking a glass of petroleum and eating vasoline

[shadyufo]

Finally getting some decent rains here again so I took another quick stroll around the creek the other evening to see what washed up between floods. Found a ton more awesome fossils—bryzoans, brachiopods, and some nice crinoids—some neat bits of melted metal, and lots of pretty tumbled pottery and glass, including a pretty unique piece.

I always check glass I find under a black light to see if it is uranium glass which will glow bright yellow or green. I’ve found a few pieces over the years and it’s always exciting to find! I had a feeling that big yellow hunk of glass would glow but it didn’t glow the usual uranium glass color…

…it’s orange!

Turns out there are other kinds of vintage glassware that will glow under a black light—this is most likely cadmium glass but manganese glass and a few others will react to a black light as well. Pretty neat!

Here’s a piece of tumbled uranium glass next to it for comparison.

[starlit-mansion]

Cool things i DID buy while antiquing today

[xbennyboox]

Here’s a mega post of some of the cool things I found at some thrift stores last month as well as this month!

I was so siked to find the last two things! I have been looking for months! So glad I was able to get them!

(Also here’s a cool fact about the the oil lamp, apparently my grandpa had the same one but it got thrown out)

[lilanth]

I did a bad and bought a vasoline/uranium glass nesting TURKEY the other day. 2 fukin cute Now I have a pair of radioactive glass poultry

[desdinok]

Vasoline glass glows under uv light. It's so pretty.

[ginger-in-a-fez]

Hi friends! I recently did a short job renovating a Dollar Tree and I personally didn't know all the stuff you could get for a dollar, so if you're on a budget please go check them out! Here's some things I stocked this week that you can purchase for a dollar:

Full tubes of toothpaste, brand names to like Collgate.

Packs of toothbrushes.

Mouthwash.

Packs of flossing picks.

Full sized bar soap. I didn't know they have Dove and Irish Spring and all that!

Full sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner from brands like Suave.

All kinds of brand name deodorants.

Baby power.

Four packs of toilet paper.

Packs of gallon sized Ziploc (the brand) bags, sandwich bags, and trash bags.

Big laundry baskets and storage containers.

Full sized rolls of tin foil and baking sheets.

Glassware! Wine glasses, cups, bowls!

All kinds of quality dishes actually. And they're cute to! You can get ceramic plates and mugs and bowls all for a dollar! And silverware!

Brooms.

Plungers.

Packs of hangers.

Laundry clips and clotheslines.

Cleaning supplies like bleach and Windex.

All types of quality tupperware from Betty Crocker or Rubbermaid. Anything from a six pack of one cup sized or a full two gallon container and lid.

300 pack of q tips.

Full sized bags of cotton swabs.

Brand name pain medication like Alieve and Advil.

Allergy medication.

Cold medicine.

Hydrocortisone cream.

Antifungal cream.

Nasal spray.

Cough drops.

Jars of Vasoline.

A note on brands: Dollar Tree carries a LOT of brand names but they also have their own brand called Assured and from what I can tell Assured is a very similar quality. If you look at the ingredients its usually pretty similar.

Bandaids.

Gauze.

Rubbing alcohol.

Hydrogen peroxide.

Tampons! They're not huge packs (as with most things, buying in bulk IS CHEAPER) but if you only have a dollar, go get some!

Pads too! Lots of them!

A bunch of office supplies like pens and notebooks and calendars.

Full sized gallons of water and half gallons of juice like apple juice or cranberry.

Spices! You can get shakers of garlic salt or cinnamon or pepper!

Full sized boxed of off brand cereal.

Clothes? Like you can get shirts and socks and beanies and gloves. Cute scarves to! I did not see any pants.

A lot of smaller things like candy or cards or less than a dollar too, most things being 50 or 80 cents.

Anyways, yes most things are cheaper in bulk and yes make sure you look for quality especially with cosmetics. I have sensitive skin so I didn't list their skin products because I personally haven't tried them. But. The store I worked at was classified as small and we still had all of this stuff so if you need something cheap please check the Dollar Tree first!

[inmadnessborn]

Mirrors show you reality

Mirrros show you relaity. No, rather, mirrors show you appearance.

Mirrors show you yourself. No, mirrors show you reflection.

Meta-data.

Mirrors show you whatm irros shows yo0. Trepandation. trepanation. Never the delete key. Or rather, teh illusionof the detlee key.The join of abrken spacebar. Is i srather the lack ofawresness that matters. Teh flow. The walk wtilman Ishing of myself. Onsnese on theverse on nonense. irritable. Inifnite. absolute.

AbFab.

Poetrry. Always the nut of it. The near rhyme. The infinte, the almost. Not limited.The argyment against reality. Moretobe said, certainly.But what of it?

Reflection,retration. The near poetryofalmost words.Slipshod.

Hperhaps Chirs Buehler miht enjoy.Who cansay?SAamsmith. Alater time. But Isinge asteh birds sing,forthe sake of singing. (Biologists tell us no, poets tell us so).Thealmsot talking. ofa time before typing. Albuquerque.

It is teh love ofwords.Orather, the rlove of sound. The blur, the blend, vasoline upon the lens.

Curious but glasses off as as good as blindness. Is there a space in that pragrpah, in that line? Icannot tell. A delcuision and a hope. Perhaps ungrammatical nonense,. But the worlds flow. the words flow.The bullhistflows. (Muder citydevils, 3863 days). But why? It is the internal narrative, the tense the chance to talk. To speak forth, to let flow forth. ndd iff if if ,there is a certain poetry to it, then it is so it is beautiful, it is the song of myself. .Absolom.

Thecry ofloss, that.

Asempty as a jug. Thi is always the matter.The feeling ofmeptry, teh feat of empty. Ofhavingwritteing, andneverbeing able to write again. Dowe write for an audience or ourselves?Aciritic, we compare ourselfves to our past work. Diaryryland. Tumblr, a hbope we might be heard bycertain stranngers. Fitter that way reallly. That'skindofhot.com,now dleeted.Asadness, r regret, but a eird thought of havingandneverneeding again.

neverthrow out oldpotaoe chips, you never knowwhen you might needthem again. The true knowing of want, in that. Off keeping what you do not need,thining you might need.The essenceofpoverty. I cannot tell. AndI likeit, for it is like the typing.

Ch'arrt. the beloved. Missed.Missed for hearing one offer sweet blandishments, time and time again, until in resitence is almsot a kindofflirtation. Off the hook,form my infgersto your eyes. And obscenity, andabsolution, an freedom. Absolom.

It is not in the keeping-00tehe keeping, ...a certain ...aside, is not the point. Promiscuity?That word.That delcious word. I would have liked to have been,Itink.bvut the heart has it's reasons and that is not the way I play. Cuffing season. Brilliant, that. Oneofht beuatifies of the internet, is that when text is cheap, there is more ofit, and oneo thje joys of that is that it porives a spacefor certain experimental oddoities to play out and sto survive. What web2.0 misses, reallyh. Most people are banal and boring.ANd the demoritiziatiyon downws out the strange and surral and delightful amidst that noise of taling and fucking. Squalking and fucking. and unking. The noise of the banal, or eveeryday life.

Redefine what it means to be a hero. REdefine. It is not heroic. That is the essence. Is the deisre to feel heroic through everyday action. ANd that is the essence of what the hero is not. The hero is not, cannot be everyday. And that is hard. It trivilizes the everyday (for is not the everyday the essene of the trivial? And that's hard. Recognizes that's hard. To be removed tofrom the heroic, to be made trivial and permanntentlhy, continually trivial. Urk. Uruuk Hai.

Oh, the sounds, the sweet sounds.Absalom, absolom.

Alwaysst the edge, there. A missed keystroke adn I might send or might delete. Always a certain tendency. How much was I willing to risk, to risk losing? Not a game pers se, but a recognition of th sweetness. The cost of not sending so low, but also...no need to bombard.

I miss the color, that is all. That luminenscent green, rather thant htecurious blue light of a CRT monitor. (were they blue light, or something strangers? Liket the old teleivisions and their blurry inability to represnt pixels, and hence a scertian electric blue. Seems mad, but makes mad sense.se.

Music. The other thing I miss, the listenin to. Often at work, dlisten to, but always a distraction, a lessenin of concentration,, a lessinging of the application of power and ability, adn the recognigiton of that. Of being taken aawayfrom, not the fullness of attention.

Damn teh peersp in teh cars in the foundabout have good steroos. . Chuckorama.

The title is 'mirrors show no pity'. (It'sbeter wit the glasses off).

It may amuse. Silence has it's own beat.

Som mcuh writign, so little sense.

Are you drunk or ondrurgs? Well no. But perhaps yet, but it's not really relevant.

[tracken]

It’s still possible to get those looks on digital, but it takes some more work on set and/or it’s something that can be added in post production. These days unless the look was decided before the shoot begins the DP might want everything super sharp for them to soften in post. This makes the most sense if the shot/film is VFX heavy. Soft edges are harder to clean up than crisp edges.

A softer image often is caused by the lens that is being used. As tech has improved, the quality of lenses has also dramatically improved. Don’t get me wrong, old lenses are still super popular and are in high demand (like Cooke lenses). Other than that there are often filters added in front of the lens to give various effects, like gradients, colors, neutral density (think sunglasses for the camera), or a polarizer.

They often used to “grease the lens” for closeups of actors (especially love interests or aging performers trying to mask imperfections like wrinkles). This used to be like a plate of glass rubbed with vasoline or something. Nowadays they have filters that do the same thing. Post 9/11 and with the rise of digital and democratization of VFX, the need for that deminished, and it sort of has fallen out of practice because audiences seem to crave more realism. Or at least gritty realism.

One thing that adds that soft look are fog machines/hazers that give the shot a sense of depth. If you light it right, it looks amazing. I mean, just look any anything Roger Deakins has done.

That man can paint with light like no one can.

I am in love w the way pre 2000s films have that hazy feel to them. hd honestly kills the vibe

[roccoroks]

VOLUME 5 DAG POST SO ANOTHER ROD RUN HAS COME AND GONE AND IT HAS LEFT ME IN THE WAKE OF DISGRUNTELED GUEST OVER PARKING , ROOMS WITH BROKEN REFRIDGERATORS AND SEVERAL LOST ITEMS IN NEED OF BEING RETURNED TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS. SEVERAL THINGS HAPPENED THIS TIME AND I WILL TRY AND KEEP THINGS AS STRAIGHT AS MACH STYLES SEXUAL ORIENTAION SO BARE WITH ME! It was your typical rod run this spring in that there were classic cars as far as the eye could see, toilets were overflowing with the stench of nearly dead guests last dinners from the golden coral and I for the first time in 3 years had the day off to enjoy ………at work……even in my down time I have to come here….sux. The time is 4:30 pm, it officially hawt as bawls outside and im watching the desk while my new manager “monty” dips out for a bite to eat. The door opens and im faced with a loud, demanding, hateful women from PA….so a normal woman from PA….who is mad about parking. Me: *gee, I really hope the next 30 mins goes smoo….. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL! IT REEKS OF BITCH!* CLAB: *Crazy Loud Ass Bitch* umm….theres a man outside that’s saying that if I don’t move my car then he will have it towed or he will park his truck in front of it until Monday and called me a bitch……(ME: honestly I stopped paying attention to her at this point)……or im going to call the cops. Me: *fuck you karam, just because I like to rub vasoline all over my butt cheeks and press it against businesses plate glass windows in downtown under the cover of darkness, I have to deal with this?* CLAB: so…..what are you going to do about it? Im paying 175.00 a night and I feel I should beable to park where ever I want! Me: *you are the same bitch from last year aren’t you…* mam im really sorry about this but during the rod run we have over 5000 people and cars come into town and parking can get a bit limited. CLAB: WELL DON’T YOU THINK THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM? Me: *oooooooh so we are going to go down this long road of stupidity?* like I said, mam, parking can get a bit hectic during these shows and we expect everyone to govern them selfs. CLAB: look you NEED to go out there and talk to this man or im going to report you to your manager. Me: *ah hellnah! Bitch you did not just…….. >.> i cant believe you just...how dare.....i may pee on you* Me: ok, lets go *get this over with* *we both walk out to the parking lot where im am greeted buy a mid 40’s male who knows me from years of rod runs and he seems to have been drinking and is in no mood for this ladies bullshit, I know because he says so in this dialog ^.^ * CLAB: this is the guy that spoke to me like I was trash Me: *because you do infact smell of a garbage bag filled with diapers that someone threw up on and set on fire....because thats what bitch smells like* DD: *drunk dude* look I never said any of that shit to you, your just making it up Me: but we haven’t even discussed what you said yet….never mind, look, why is it a problem for her to be parked here CLAB: *interrupts* oh there’s no problem, he just wants this parking spot to himself DD: look, my tools are in my truck and I need to work on my car and I don’t want to have to walk across the parking lot to get my tools every 5 mins Me: *and a long stager it must be 25 feet away! Beside, had you bought a ford instead of that rolling shit box you call a nova that’s more rust that nova, this wouldn’t be a problem* CLAB: that’s not my problem , I need a parking spot and this one was open Me: *5 points to bitchindore!* DD: MY GD CHAIRS WHERE IN THIS SPOT SAVING THEM FOR ME AND YOU JUST…..JUST…..MOVED THEM! LIKE THEY WERE NUTHIN! Me : *shee-took-yur-churrrs! * CLAB: well they were in the way! DD: iv had just about enough of your shit! ME: HO HO HO HO HO HANG ON A MIN! *yelling louder that both of them to convey my point* NOW LOOK, last year I put up two signs and handed out two flyers to ALL of my guests, including you, that 1. Trailers are no longer to be parked on site and 2. That chairs could no longer be used to save parking spots, meaning first come, first park no exceptions! DD:…….. I forgot about that, you did do that CLAB: *shoots a look of “take that bitch” Me: *looks at clab* I also told you on Tuesday when you checked in that this would happen with parking and that you would need to get a spot early to AVIOD THIS! CLAB: I don’t think that’s my problem do you? Me: *omfg if you say that one more motherfucking time* YES, yes it is your problem when I looked right at you and warned you this would happen and you ignored it! Is like I said “hey this coffee is hot, don’t pour it all over your face ok” and you did it anyway and couldn’t figure out why it hurt. CLAB: I just don’t see how this is my problem Me: * o.e there is a special place in hell for people like you! Its called florida* I honestly don’t know what to say. DD: I don’t know why this is such a problem, I mean there is a perfectly good spot open right over there by the pool doors, its closer too. Me: * O.e…..did I just hear a loud pop sound in my head? Why is everything starting to get shaky and I smell burning hair….am I having a aneurism?* did….you just? Surely you did say there is a parking spot right over there….right? DD: yeah, so I don’t see what all the fuss is about! *crosses arms and looks proud of him self CLAB: I don’t want that parking spot I want this one! Me: …….. *looks at both of them in disgust* so what’s wrong then? *both look at me like im a idiot* Me: *clearly im dealing with creatures with undeveloped brains not unlike that of a 5 year old or a form of mild cheese. I may have to get the speak and spell out for them* look, I should be in my office answering the phone and booking reservations for tomorrow night, instead im out here dealing with 2 12 year olds who are fighting over who gets to ride the tricycle next. There is a perfectly good spot right over there that either one of you could park in, its close to the hotel, and its close to your car so THERE IS NO PROBLEM. You two just wanted to be validated in what you both thought was right in your list of personal self-ethics and came and got me, someone half both of your ages to settle your squabble instead of acting like adults! CLAB: who’s your manager, ill have you fired for this! DD: …..mam, this young man is the owner. CLAB: *looks at me* WHY DON’T YOU TELL HIM TO APPOLGISE (or how ever its spelled) TO ME THEN! Me: *really….you are no longer mild cheese, im down grading you to Mexican! (yup, going to hell for that one)* because you started this! You both can’t act like adults and neither one of you deserves it! Look if I have to come back out here and deal with this again, you will both be looking for a lot more than a parking spot for the night! *walks off like a boss!* Meanwhile back in the halls of ‘’fort phone ringing the fuck off the wall’’, I have 12 people trying to call me at the same time Me: good afternoon RSML, how may I help you Dag: umm….yeah….um…hi…um like how much like…you know ….your Me: *come on you can do it* Dag: um….like your 2 room bed suites are? Me: *in what way was that even a fucking sentence….* when are you coming in? Dag: um….. like……you know….that time….next month? Me: hummmmmm that time next month….. Dag: oh! Um….yeah you know….like Saturday? Me: ok getting closer, we narrowed it day to 5 days instead of 31 Dag: oh, um….you like….. Me: *oh for fuck sake* *begins trying to pull my hair out and presses the phone harder to my ear out of frustration* Dag: like…that one Saturday that everyone's coming in? Me: 199.95 +tax Dag: wow that much? Me: *oh now you speak coherently* yes sir Dag: for which Saturday? Me: um like…you know...um...all of them Dag: *hangs up phone* Me: and a fine fuck you to you too sir *hangs up phone and turns around to see a family of 5 behind me* Me: how may I help you? FO5: we will just check somewhere else *walks out the door* Me: normally this would be bad but we are full soo……fuck em…. Monty: *from the back office* you should be nicer, they might have come back Me: really ass, you were back there the whole time and you couldn’t come to help me? Monty: I have a ham sandwich, this take precedent over pot heads asking about rates Me: you know I can fire you right Monty: you wont though Me: ……mother of fuck…..bitch called my bluff Few mins go by and im about to head out for the night when a man that I can only describe as so old that he may have known jesus on a personal level. Me: good after noon, how may I help you? *20 mins later he makes it to the desk* Old Dude: (we will call him OG cuz he gansta!) do you have anyrooms? Me: yes sir ! I have 2 br suites available *maybe this is a cool old dude and my night is turning around for the good* OG: oh good, what that Me: *ah you’re a crazy old man* well that’s our trademark room with 2 queen size beds! OGh I need 2 rooms with 2 beds in each room Me: well I have 2 2bed room suites side by side if that will work for ya? OG: no no no, I only need 4 beds not 8 Me….um…k….well if you get two of our 2 bed room suites then it would accommodate you that would give you 1 queen per bedroom OG: no no no then I would only have 2 beds, I need 4 *he is getting a bit angry…..or tired….or both, idk, hes old and hard to read* Me: I know sir but 1 of our 2br suites will have 2 queen beds OGh ok so that’s 1 room with 4 beds total right? Me: *O.e…wooooooooooooooow….* no sir that’s 2 beds total per room OG I know giving me 4 beds total right? Me: yes….wait no…what? OG: do you even have rooms with 4 beds/ Me: no sir OG: do you have 2 rooms? Me: yes OG: how many beds do they have Me: 2 per rooms OG: so you do have 4 beds per room? Me: whos on first? OG: what? Me: no whats on second, do you want a key so you can look at one of the rooms? OG: yes….wait, what? Me:...here…..*grabs pen and paper* OG: oh….nevermind, that’s not what im looking for ME: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU /RANT . . . . . . . . OR IS IT……

[jbones333111222]

This ThermoScan from Braun is a great tool to add to your sickness arsenal. . Things sure have changed from when I was a kid. I still have nightmares about that glass thermometer and vasoline combo...😳 https://www.instagram.com/p/B6Dm3AwH4jC/?igshid=a3u7u9u5cy16

[markmichaud4-blog]

Momoyo - South Shore R&M Exclusive Interview with Johnnie & Devin

They both look relaxed and happy as they both sit in overstuffed chairs in the lounge of the local recording studio in West Babylon. It’s the last day of September, and Johnnie, along with his band Momoyo are in the recording studio working on new material for their sophomore record “As a Ghost”. While the rest of Johnnie and Devin’s bandmates are out in town, they just wanna kick back and chat.

Released in November of 2018, Like a Flower, Momoyo’s debut album sold over 700 records since its release. The band had just got off tour last month, playing shows and promoting their new EP “The Heroin Sessions” which came out this past July. Their new record, “As a Ghost”, is set to be released sometime in November. 

HOW DID YOU HOOK UP WITH THE OTHER GUYS IN THE BAND?

Johnnie: Well, it started out in spring of last year. My old band had just dissolved and I was starting to become musically, I don’t know- I just knew I needed to make music. I called my friend Terry up and he was like, hey, I got these three guys in Wading River looking for a singer and you might be the right fit for them. I got their demo in the mail the next day on like a fuckin’- cassette tape, and after it took me an entire day to figure out how to record over it I ad-libbed the lyrics and had it ready by midnight. Sent it back to them and I was the vocalist of the band before the sun had time to set again. 

WHAT WAS THE PROCESS OF YOUR FIRST TWO PROJECTS, ERIRI AND BLUE LIKE?

Johnnie: Eriri was the original demo tape I just talked about. It was also the original name of the band, so when we put it up on bandcamp we decided the name was more suitable than just “Demo Tape”. “Blue” was our first real, like, album I guess, although it wasn’t recorded in the traditional way. It was just live rehearsals of songs I wrote we mixed and mastered with the DAT’s.

Devin: We were originally gonna have more songs on “Blue” because we compiled the songs from two 4-track cassette recordings, but two of the songs corrupted completely and we couldn’t use them, so it just became a six track EP.

WHAT WERE THE TWO SONGS THAT COULDN’T BE RELEASED?

Devin: Ironically enough, they were both covers. One was “Still Remains” by Stone Temple Pilots and the other was “Bankrupt on Selling” from Modest Mouse.

WHAT ABOUT YOUR SELF TITLED EP? 

Johnnie: Same thing as Blue. Just live rehearsals of three B-side songs that we knew weren’t gonna make it on the album. They were recorded during our pre-production sessions, actually.

WHAT WAS RELEASING LIKE A FLOWER LIKE? HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU GUYS TO PUT THAT RECORD TOGETHER?

Johnnie: We started working on songs for Like a Flower in May of last year, so really only six months. Releasing my first ever professional record was pretty crazy. We had songs actually played on the radio the night it was released.

Devin: Yeah, some local radio station found our stuff under the “just released” section on bandcamp and played “Maybe” on it. I remember everyone in the band freaking the fuck out once we found out, meanwhile Johnnie was on his phone the whole time. We all looked at him like, “isn’t this awesome, dude?” and even though he seemed super down he was actually texting his girlfriend in all caps about it. [Laughs]

CAN I ASK WHAT SOME OF THE SONGS ON LIKE A FLOWER ARE ABOUT?

Johnnie: Well, some of the most notable ones with stories would be “To Lose Control”, “Where I Belong”, and “Like a Flower”. “To Lose Control” was written about my friend Sean who passed away in a car accident a few years ago. “Where I Belong” is about my own acceptance of death at one point and the visualizations of not being able to, I don’t know- come back to life I guess. It’s kind of like, what my thoughts are before and after I die. “Like a Flower” is about my struggles with my past relationship which turned out to be extremely traumatizing.

SO I TAKE IT THAT ALL OF YOUR SONGS ARE SINCERE AND AREN’T JUST STORIES? 

Johnnie: Yes, I don’t like the idea of making up a character and writing as them for the sake of writing a song. I like to write about my own experiences; experiences and feelings I’ve had that have an impact on me still to this day. I’m a very, uh, emotional and affectionate person. It’s easy for me to hurt, and I still carry it within these songs. 

IS THERE ANYTHING ON THE ALBUM YOU WISH YOU COULD REDO?

Devin: We both regret changing some last minute things due to overthinking, like the riff on “Wake” and just some stuff in mixing we could’ve done better.

Johnnie: The riff in Wake is definitely one. There’s also some songs I wish we would’ve swapped out for other ones, but, what’s done is done, you know?

WHAT WAS TOURING THIS PAST SUMMER LIKE?

Devin: It was awesome, to be honest. Playing my first outdoor shows with hundreds of people in the crowd is something I won’t ever forget. 

Johnnie: Yeah, I loved it, even though they drove me fuckin’ insane the whole time. But I loved playing shows with people like Jimmy from Vasoline Trip and Aaron from Decrep(itude). I think my favorite part of the whole tour was covering Dead & Bloated with VT and being able to sing that intro through a damn megaphone. 

YOUR LATEST RELEASE, THE HEROIN SESSIONS WAS VERY DARK AND VISCERAL IN NATURE. WHAT’S THE STORY BEHIND IT?

Johnnie: Well, I’ve been going through a lot of fucked up shit lately. Fucked up enough I’ve gotten myself in bouts of drug abuse and whatnot, totally not cool by the way. I wrote those three songs at probably the highest and lowest points of my life, which I had hit in maybe days of each other. I told the boys, I was like “I need to get these songs recorded.” We rehearsed them, but it sounded too light and clean for what they actually meant. So, I unleashed my inner Varg Vikernes and dug up old equipment like a broken wired Beta58a and soundboard, along with a bunch of old interfaces so everything just sounded fucked up and heavy. I got myself high and recorded those songs on whatever shit I had at the time just so I could get the same intensity.

Devin: Not the whole story, by the way. He also got naked and carved his wrists up with pieces of a glass bottle he broke in the booth before recording them. He made a fuckin’ mess, it was brutal.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SACRAMENTO INCIDENT?

Johnnie: [Laughs], yeah we can talk about that. We flew out to help support our friends in Maliciously Unstable. I was in a really bad state of mind to begin with, and Sacramento is a place I was dreading of going to for reasons I can’t say. After the show, someone in our circle who’s like a fuckin’ fiend came up to me and was like, “Hey, you wanna do speedball?” and I said “fuck yeah”. I was in the hospital being treated for a cocaine, heroin and morphine overdose about six hours later. Bad stuff, man.

WHAT ARE THE CURRENT PLANS FOR THE BAND NOW?

Devin: Really to just get this fucking album out on time. I will say though, we are ahead of schedule and doing a great job so far.

Johnnie: We’re gonna get this album done, play the promo show somewhere hopefully nearby, mix and master it and hopefully have it done in time for the release next month. After that, oh, who fuckin’ knows?

WHO WERE SOME OF YOUR INFLUENCES GROWING UP?

Devin: For me, personally, Joey Jordison is my biggest idol. He always has been since I was little.

Johnnie: This is kind of a sad list, but Chester Bennington, Scott Weiland, Mitch Lucker, Chris Cornell, Fenriz and Corey Taylor would have to be my main ones. I grew up idolizing all of them; they’re all someone I wish I could be when I’m older. Chester will always be my number 1 though. Always has been.

HOW DO THE COMPARISONS TO HIM MAKE YOU FEEL?

Johnnie: I honestly don’t know. It’s probably the best compliment I could get, but at the same time, it makes it seem like I go out of my way to sound like him.

WHAT CAN WE EXPECT ON YOUR NEXT RECORD COMING UP?

Johnnie: If Like a Flower made you sad, this next album will fuck you up, man. I didn’t hold back at all. Some of the songs on this record could’ve killed me if they wanted to.

ANY CHANCE I COULD HEAR ANYTHING BEFORE IT’S RELEASED?

Devin: Well, the three songs on the Heroin Sessions are gonna be on this next record, and our studio deadline is the 11th of November. I’m sure we’ll get you something early.

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I wanna thank both Devin and Johnnie for taking their time out of their day to talk with me about their music. I can’t wait to hear their new album and what it beholds, and I wish them the best! Let me know who you want to interview next by e-mailing me or sending me a direct message.

[divergentcourse]

Going through my Grandmas estate and found some Vasoline Glass!

[natehertweck]

False Profit 930pm Upchucks 845 Dawn Fades 8 Voice of Resistance 715 Vasoline Tuner 630pm $5 @ the Void Byob No glass please