this blog has relocated to @annie-thyme and is no longer active

feel free to unfollow here and follow on there if you still wanna read my ridiculous shitposts, fanfiction and occasional poetry

all of the ceramics and other creative stuff will be here from now on: @zernoderevo

=))

Carl and Nate: rainbow cthulhu twins

Carl and Nate have apparently arrived here from another world. Taking a genuine interest in humanity and its food consumption culture, they decided to stay for a while, so that they could conduct an in-depth research of this astounding phenomenon, previously unbeknown to them. In order to do so in the best way possible, they decided to take a shape of two medium ice cream dishes. "For science, Carl!" Nate cried out as he stepped inside the converting/transmitting machine, disappearing from his home world and reappearing on my workbench as a perfectly ordinary lump of Spanish white clay a few brief moments later.

Carl and Nate were hand-sculpted and have undergone three firings in a kiln. A fine coat of transparent glaze was applied to them after the circular rainbow drawings inside and the weird otherworldly shapes and Cthulhu tentacles outside were done. Later, a number of tests were performed on them both in order to ensure their durability and readiness to contain foodstuffs, be they hot, cold, liquid, solid or any possible combination of those.

Despite the fact that their primary function is to be used as ice cream bowls, tests have proved them to be perfectly suitable to hold various alcoholic beverages, for they are capable of producing ear-pleasing chiming sounds whenever they touch upon one another. It is quite possible that said chiming serves them as a means of communication, thus enabling them to share their experiences of the human world.

Etsy

ghost cows: a bedtime story

last night I was on a train and I couldn’t sleep, so I just sat there and stared out of the window, and it was dark, but I could tell where were the trees and where was the sky (and I saw a shooting star!) and where were the fields and occasional houses.

and then I saw something I couldn’t identify, some ghostly white silhouettes scattered about a small field, and it passed by very quickly, and my insomniac brain latched onto the image and started telling me a story about ghost cows.

ghost cows, my brain said, can only be seen grazing from dusk till dawn, which makes it rather difficult for the farmers to keep them sustained, as summer nights tend to be very short. and, of course, ghost cows cannot eat regular grass, it has to be ghost grass, so they can be grazed only in the fields where all the grass has been mown.

in late spring, when all the fields are green and the grass hasn’t grown enough for it to be cut, ghost cows feed on some ghost hay (regular hay that’s been left in the rain and snow to rot), carefully stored in special ghost barns (regular barns that were burned down almost entirely)

winter is the best season for the ghost cows, as they prefer cooler temperatures, and also have lots of delicious  grazing options, including ghost wheat and a variety of ghost garden vegetables and flowers.

ghost cows cannot be milked, but every ghost cow owner has a special jar made of moon glass that is left on the porch at night and is full of ghost milk every morning. ghost milk isn’t suitable for drinking, but a single drop of it makes regular milk turn sour in an instant, and farmers find it extremely handy for fermenting a special kind of cheese, known as the Moon Cheese (some people believe that it is the same kind of cheese the Moon is made of, but scientists haven’t found any evidence supporting this hypothesis so far)

two drops of ghost milk taken with a glass of warm wine is a perfect remedy for nightmares and sleepwalking.

ghost calves are born in the middle of winter, usually a couple of days around winter solstice. they are very adorable and playful creatures and make perfect playmates for insomniac children. it is a known fact that those children grow up to be ghost cow shepherds, so they are treated with respect according to their high social status right from the moment they become insomniac.

August 13 is a National Ghost Cow day in these parts, and it is celebrated throughout the country with ghost bonfires, ghost dancing and other sorts of popular entertainment.

my autopilot turned on all by itself while I’ve been walking through the city today and made me buy a very expensive box of pastels.

whelp.

...god they’re so fucking good

if I discover stains on my bed or my clothes 9 out of 10 times it’s some kind of paint

the 1 time it’s not paint it’s most likely coffee

10 facts about me

I got tagged by dawnofthedishsoap

I’m supposed to tag 20 people after I’ve done it but I really don’t feel like it so if any of you wanna do the thing just grab it saying you’ve been tagged by me)

1. Your nickname - shit demon 2. Your eye color - dark brown 3. Your hair color - reddish brown 4. One fact about you - I write fanfiction that is neither gay nor smutty (shocking, I know, right) 5. Favorite color - turquoise, green, orange 6. Favorite place - the sea. any sea anywhere is my favourite place. gimme just the sea (and maybe throw in a towel for good measure) and I won’t require any sort of entertainment. ever. again. 7. Favorite celebrity - Ugh, there are so many. David Tennant, Jensen Ackles, Felicia Day, Richard Speight Jr, John Barrowman, Eve Myles, Benedict Cumberbatch (yeah I know I did a bit of superwholock here) - so many, I could go on forever, I love good acting and sarcastic little shits so yeah. so many. 8. Favorite animal - a unicorn! ))) 9. Favorite song - oooh, do I have to pick just one? anything by Radiohead and lemme stop here or I’ll never finish this post, okay? okay.

10. Favorite book - ALL OF THEM. really, all of them. except 50 shades of grey. (no I haven’t read it never going to tumblr posts quoting this poor excuse of a literary work have scarred me enough)

yesterday my dash was all joy and celebration. as I was scrolling down I kept snickering about 50 states of gay and homophobes moving to canada; I was smiling at all those pictures of rainbow crosswalks and rainbow flags and rainbow lighting on buildings and it was all so beautiful and amazing

at night I had a weird dream where I was back at my school and it was all decorated with rainbow lighting (I like rainbow lighting okay) and there were lots of people and then I saw two girls from my class who were getting married right there at school and one of our math teachers was to officiate the wedding, and then there was another couple waiting for their turn and it was so beautiful and everyone was happy and cheering, and usually I don’t give a fuck about weddings at all, but this was so different I nearly cried in my dream

I guess what I wanna say here is I’m happy for all the americans who were celebrating yesterday and who are celebrating now, and today my dash is filled with pictures of same sex couples who are finally able to get married, and I honestly don’t understand how can anyone stick to their homophobic ideas after looking at those pictures of young couples and middle-aged couples and senior couples and all the joy and happiness radiating from them; and look, they are not gays or lesbians or whatever other names you might call them, they are just people, and all they want is to be happy and to feel safe and protected, just like anybody else; and when I look at the faces of people who are so happy to finally get their basic human rights after being denied them for so long, I can’t help but share their joy; and I hope that maybe one day I can feel happy and proud for my country for the same reason as well.

there are not so many things that can lighten up your day like a cover of carry on my wayward son sung by ted’s acapella band and an ukulele girl from scrubs

ookay so all I gotta do now is go to sleep right?

yea right

and I can’t even have a cigarette because I’m sick and there’s a good chance I’d cough up a lung after the first pull

ugh

life’s not fair

beautiful (oh look the sun has come up isn’t it just lovely) but still

not fair at all

I was so beautiful I vaguely remember that feeling now Though I do feel beautiful sometimes But never quite as beautiful as I felt then

I was so beautiful, but also A nervous wreck, and I Couldn’t really eat anything for three days Before we met

I was so excited When I heard your car drive up to the cheap motel I stayed in, and I jumped right out The door, and all I could see were your Eyes, and your smile when you Looked at me For the first time And weeks later you told me that the first thing you Noticed were my mile-long legs and we laughed About it together, because I was wearing those stupid Really short shorts, and you couldn’t see them behind the railing On the porch of my shitty motel room On the second floor And you thought I had nothing on but then you Looked into my eyes and it really didn’t Matter anymore And then You took me out for coffee and for the Love of me I still cannot remember a single word from That first conversation And this is so strange, I don’t think I Remember the first time you Kissed me No, I do remember the kiss, just not anything That happened before or after I guess we went out before, and most likely after I Was sitting on my bed for the rest of the day

Thinking about you I don’t remember much, just bits and Pieces of all our days and nights together, all the Good bits and the funny bits I remember, but Not the bad bits, there were no bad bits, and it wasn’t Because we were that mythical couple that never fights or argues, but Because we had so little time it was impossible to Fit in any Bad moment At all I remember Our last day I had a plane to catch the next day and you promised You’d take me to the airport but then You couldn’t You had to work and just couldn’t make it and I Understood, of course I Understand And we made plans that you’d come to see me next Summer, and I Would visit you after that and you said that we Would see each other again Very soon But as I watched you walking down the stairs from my apartment, looking At me the whole time while you could still see me, the only Thing I could think of Like a broken record going over and over and over in my head It was the last time I saw you And you know That it really was I guess you could say it was Good that I was heartbroken then, because it Must have hurt less when I Found out (by accident) Years later That you had a son with your beautiful wife (she Looks a bit like me, I think) And I remember you’ve always wanted A son With me, and no, It didn’t Hurt less It really didn’t

You know, when I started Writing all of this out of nowhere, this stupid nostalgic I-don’t-even-know-what (and definitely not a poem who am I kidding really) I was just sitting here, writing down the words that poured out Of me, and I couldn’t get it, it was all Such a long time ago, and we are Not really anything now, not even a ‘we’, just two different people with Thousands of miles and a few Unspoken words between them, but then I Looked at the clock and I realized that It was today, eleven years ago, when you saw me For the first time and you Told me that

I was so beautiful.

that awkward moment when you see a beautiful shot from a photoshoot you did backstage for and think ‘whoa, this photographer is really good, I can see why people love his stuff’

and then scroll down to read a caption that says it’s a backstage shot