cthulhu lovin’

riled up, i am, because it seems that i will be unable to shimmy my ass to the UP Fair due to grandparental restrictions. but, as i’ve said, i’m gonna play nice and sublimate all my tempestuous energies into something more productive. that’s the adult way, you know. beat up a couple of naked underage girls after you’ve lost a big sale… so, make me happy!

a cthulhu chess set!

a clearinghouse for darkly funny fashion… plunge into the abyss here.

basically i just moped online looking for hp lovecraft nuggets, while intermittently staring at my cute pug wallpaper. console me, my terrier-japanese spitz mongrel Porky just died, and i am ready to honor his memory by replacing him with an absolutely horrid-looking yet adorable pug. me want pug.

oh, and i have to type this lovecraft-inspired dream down. it’s so bizarre. i might have been reading one of his cannibalism stories again. anyway, in that dream, me and a group of friends were traveling home, when one of us decided to ask the driver to make a detour and visit the home of a strange cult, you know, for anthropological curiosity’s sake. cue dark warehouse in the midst of a forested nowhere, with a tall thin man with stringy straight hair to his shoulders leading the worshippers in some strange rite. and lo! when i look inside the door, there is this naked (yeah, naked!) woman with one leg sawn off at the knee, lying in a basin of blood.

she was alive, in a trance, and chanting. and there were huge gouges of flesh bitten off her other thigh, the one which still had a leg attached to it. then said cult leader comes up to us and invites us to observe and make ourselves at home. coming up to me he gives me this long, deep sniff, as if he was trying to ascertain how tasty i was from the way i smelled. basta this animal, hungry sniffing.

so, trying to act intellectual and relatively unaffected by the gruesome rites, i asked a woman what they were doing a few moments earlier. apparently they were savoring the meat of a willing sacrifice, something spiritual about eating someone who’s still alive and willing to be eaten, right?

then we all went home, but we were quite surprised to find out that only three of us alighted from the bus. i swear on azathoth’s unspoken name, the bus was full of people.

then i woke up in a sweat, proceeded to sleep again and dream of going around in my dreamland version of greenbelt looking for a starbucks. i dunno why, i already passed a CBTL and a seattle’s best at the last corner, now i’m at the fruit market but can’t find my coffee fix.

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