I did a thing
everyone stop what you are doing and watch this vine rIGHT NOW
This is my favourite bookstore and bookseller in the world. Bar none.
I used to get to Seattle every six months or so, and whenever I visited I always made it a priority to stop in BLMF and ask its keeper what he’d been reading lately. He possessed an inexhaustible memory, a comfortable lack of snobbery, and impeccable taste. The first book he recommended to me, upon listening gravely to my litany of at-the-moment authors (Barbara Kingsolver, James Clavell, Maeve Binchy, Neil Gaiman, Charles DeLint, Anthony Bourdain) was Tipping the Velvet. He also later landed me with Geek Love, Anno Dracula, half the Aubreyad, and more modern Literature-with-a-capital-L than I could carry home.
The next-to-last time I dropped in, I asked if he had any P. G. Wodehouse.
"I have zero Wodehouse," he said, "and here’s why…"
Turned out that some fiend had taken to creeping in every month or so expressly to inquire of any Wodehouse and, once led to the volumes, to buy it all. ALL. Didn’t matter the condition, the edition, or whether he had another just like it in his possession; the villain bought every single P. G. Wodehouse in stock, every single time.
Was he a fan more comprehensive, more truly fanatical than any other I’d heard of, let alone known? Was he virulently anti-Wodehouse, only purchasing the books to keep their wry poison from infecting the impressionable masses? The world may never know.
I didn’t get any Wodehouse then, and I didn’t really feel the lack. I found plenty of other treasures that trip. But here’s one reason why BLMF and its proprietor are my favourite of their kind: that was two years ago, you see. Maybe three. In all that interim, I never planted foot in that bookshop. Never called. Never wrote. And I’m one face out of hundreds of thousands, dear reader; one reader he saw twice a year for three years, then not again for another three.
But I walked in the shop last Friday. Nodded hello.
"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, lifting his head from the phone.
"No, I’m good," I said.
"Wait—hold on a second." He set the phone down, walked ‘round the towers of books balanced precariously on the desk, on the floor, and atop other, only slightly less precarious towers. He jerked his head conspiratorially toward the far end of the shop, led me carefully to a shelf way in the back, removed a tattered stack of mass market paperbacks and motioned me closer to see what they’d been hiding.
Fifteen pristine Wodehouses: crisp, heavy, and—
“Hardcover,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows.
Reader, I bought them all.
Neo-Nazis get their shit pushed in by native american grandmothers, who then capture their flag, take selfies with it, and then burn it.
Neo Nazi status: Wrekt.
You will never be as cool as these grandmothers.
Get it grandma’s!
Can we just take a moment to remember the greatest book in the history of our childhoods…
I don’t think I’ve posted this yet - my piece for the Rookery anthology with some other just graduated SVA classmates. The theme of the book was myths and urban legends. I spent my childhood summers on an island in Nova Scotia, and I was always fascinated with seals, and, because of that, selkies.
Disclaimer: I have not made out with a seal. Yet.
GUYS I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT SELKIES AND THIS ENCOMPASSES ALL OF THEM
"No homo" is one of the dumbest things I have ever heard come out of the mouth of a human. This is my second favorite way to reply - the first, bloody retribution.
sO I WAS AT WORK GETTING PIZZA DOUGH FROM THE FREEZER AND THIS GIANT PIECE OF ICE FALLS ON ME SO I PICK IT UP AND WITHOUT REALIZING IT I WHISPERED “ICE DILDO” OUT LOUD BUT APPARENTLY MY COWORKER HEARD ME BECAUSE THE NEXT THING I KNOW HES ON THE GROUND CRYING FROM LAUGHTER
more like chilldo am I right
REBLOGGING AGAIN FOR CHILLDO
”..the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve..”
PROPHET LIKE IT’S HOT
I hate you guys sometimes
assassinated by MY FAMILY… completely understandable
crushed by the world we live in
penetrated by juggalos
crushed by a cloud
someone needs to explain this to me
smothered by my existence ok good
Buried alive by lord Jesus Christ
strangled by the world we live in
welp, got the name for my next album~
Fellated by EVERYTHING