Category Archives: Lobster

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Politics as Usual

I am a Vancouver Mayoral Candidate. I have a stuffed lobster. Hail our Crustacean overlords!

I am a Vancouver Mayoral Candidate. I have a stuffed lobster. Hail our Crustacean overlords!

As I’ve said before, Oh Vancouver, never change.

After Suzanne Anton’s failed Nixonian move, it looks like she’s out of the running. Even the Success KoolAid marketing networker drones would be embarrassed to be publicly seen advocating for someone who leaves a motion till it’s too late to vote on, attempts to have it passed anyway, and then goes dark, presumably because even she knows we’ve all had enough of her.

Mayor Gregor, or as we call him around here April’s imaginary boyfriend, gave an apparently quite respectable speech tonight at the Vision Vancouver gala. No video yet, because Vancouver is, well, Vancouver.

Speaking of Vancouver being Vancouver, as you can clearly see from the image featured in this post, there is only one mayoral candidate who is clearly speaking to the needs of the Cthulian demographic, and that is Lobster Man Darrell “The Sax Maniac” Zimmerman.

How long must we remain a marginalized minority? How long must we take the scraps off the tables of the rich? Wait. We ARE the scraps!

“I’m going to be the only homeless candidate in this election,” Zimmerman told me.

He likes waving around a toy lobster to highlight Vision Vancouver councillor Heather Deal’s decision to tweet a photo of leftovers from a lobster feast at a Federation of Canadian Municipalities meeting in Halifax.

I, personally, am less offended by the lavish dinner than by the fact that they paid $2300 and drank out of plastic cups. BRANDED plastic cups.

That’s it. I’ve made up my mind how to vote.

Cthulhu for president DESPAIR ALL YE WHO ENTER VOTING BOOTHS

Cthulhu for president DESPAIR ALL YE WHO ENTER VOTING BOOTHS

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Merry Cthulhumas from the Vancouver Aquarium

I’m slowly getting back to a regular posting schedule, and you know what that means: TENTACLES! So here are some suitably decked denizens of the deep to put you in the holiday spirit.

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Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Marcel here is quite adorable, if somewhat emo, I mean who among us didn’t go through a phase where we wore a lentil as a hat? Got a sunburn from a diamond? Made skis from toenails?

Yes, Marcel is all of us, until we come our of our shells.

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Cthulhu wants you to stay in school

Sense and Sensibility and SeaMonsters and Regency Period Tentacle Porn

And just why does Cthulhu want you to stay in school? So you can read awesome books like Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. Promotional book video below (yes, books come with videos nowadays, I guess so they can still appeal to the illiterates out there who can’t watch tv without moving their lips):

To say I was skeptical of the merits of this tome would be to understate the case to a positively perjorrific extent, and when I picked it up at the bookstore what actually ended up selling it wasn’t the book; it wasn’t even the premise, although with me anything with tentacles is a pretty safe bet.

It was the po-faced study questions in the back. I wish I had it handy, so I could type out the best bits, but here’s my absolute favorite:

10. Is Monsieur Pierre a symbol for something? Name three other well-known works of Western literature that feature orangutan valets. Are those characters also slain by pirates?

I always HATE the part in the comedy of manners when the ourangutan valet is slain by pirates. I mean, you know it’s coming, right? But what can you do about it, right? Nothing; amirite?

He also wants you to stay in school so that once it’s finished (oh, doesn’t everyone have a book they’re working on, destined to be put aside and picked up as the eons pass and never, ever finished?) you can read His autobiography, as told to Neil Gaiman.

I never knew my parents.

My father was consumed by my mother as soon as he had fertilized her and she, in her turn, was eaten by myself at my birth. That is my first memory, as it happens. Squirming my way out of my mother, the gamy taste of her still in my tentacles.

Don’t look so shocked, Whateley. I find you humans just as revolting.

Which reminds me, did they remember to feed the shoggoth? I thought I heard it gibbering.

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…Laura WAS decorating the Christmas Tree

which is a reference to a noirish Robert Bloch Christmas story you probably haven’t read, but when you realize he’s the guy who wrote Psycho, you’ll sort of get the idea.

gingerbread man rip

[Update: I have been informed that the segue between Bloch, raincoaster, and Cthulhu is too abrupt: I would have thought it a continuum, rather, but here we go with the explication: Bloch was a pal of HP Lovecraft's. HP Lovecraft wrote the Cthulhu Mythos stories, and Bloch wrote a couple himself, inspired by the master. raincoaster is...well, raincoaster.]

So, what did raincoaster do today?

Had lunch with a pal and got a nice tour of the Naramata Bench or portions thereof, narrated. What is the point of a drive without a story, I ask yez?

Spent several so-far-fruitless hours trying to get the new Jesus Phone activated (The Sister is paying, The Sister is in Ottawa, the Fido company insists on her being physically present with the credit card. ALTHOUGH they accept internet orders, but then she’d have to mail me the SIM card. Fortunately, I’m up in PTown and the standards of service here are nothing short of consistently amazing, and I say that as a jaded city dweller, so the Fido store manager at Cherry Lane is working it out with the store manager at Bayshore so my sister can go in, present her card, and Cherry Lane will instantly get the phone up and running and call me to come pick it up, which is more than I’d expect of any shop in Vangroover over the Christmas holidays and that’s for sure and certain, but where was I? Oh yes, closing the parenthesis).

And did you know that in PTown the most desirable real estate is in the zone called “Between the malls?” Yes, just downhill from the industrial flats. Just what I’m looking for in a home: waddling distance to Zellers and the food court.

Then, came home, made a dinner of tortellini and what I thought was leftover pasta sauce with sliced mushrooms but turned out, once I’d stirred it a few times, to be tomato sauce with greyish noodles shaped like chubby fish, but what the hell. Add some basil and it’s just like Ragu, right?

Then attempted to get some decorations up around the place (which I am only house-sitting, so it’s not exactly my style) to make it look homey. Think I’m doing pretty well, don’t you?

Have a very Cthulhu Cthristmas

flying spaghetti monster tree topper

falalalalalafuckingla

santa asks has Lobby been a good boy this year?

squidtivity all hail our cephalopodian overlords

Calvin and Hobbes Snow Sharks

Now bring us some squiddy pudding

and, of course, the centrepiece

Octopus in a bottle

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