Oh my god, this makes SO MUCH SENSE! The Vulcan/Romulan split is nothing more than an interplanetary manifestation of the extra-cosmic conflict which rages eternally between the Great Old Ones and the Elder Gods. No wonder I always had a crush on Spock…and just imagine what he can do with all those flexy, flexy appendages! At last, the secret of Pon Farr is revealed: revealed to be nothing more and nothing less than a rite for the summoning of CTHULHU!!!
Does this mean we should ally ourselves with the Romulans to suppress the Great Uprising, or does it mean we should just, you know, like, go with it?
This is a totally, completely, utterly gross story and you will love it. You will curl into the fetal position and cup your hands protectively over your bits, but you will like this story.
It’s a true story. For once. It comes from my mother, who was in charge of medical records at the King Fahd Hospital in Riyadh in the 80’s.
Saudi males who are not married are not supposed to notice they have penises. Seriously, they’re supposed to just pretend it doesn’t exist. So when a Saudi male who was not married was admitted the the hospital where my mother worked and the diagnosis was “ruptured penis” naturally all the typists in medical records were DYING to know how it happened. They were all Westerners and somewhat starved for scandalous sex gossip of this type, or even the sight of a penis, if only in their minds’s eyes.
What made it even more bizarre and in-your-face was, the doctors told him he needed some exercise and so every day he would get out of his room and go for a s…l…o…w… walk up the hallway. Down the hallway. Up the hallway. Down the hallway. With a determined look on his face and his legs bowed as if he were riding a Percheron.
My mother was not a shy woman. She was not what you could ever have called retiring. Or bashful.
So, one day she saw the doctor in charge of that patient in the hallway and walked up to him and said, “Doctor So-and-So, my typists can’t even concentrate to do their jobs, they are so distracted by this. How did it happen?”
He was used to my mother. He knew those western women were crazy and my mother was the craziest of all of them and, thus, not to be trifled with.
He looked up the hall. He looked down the hall. He looked up the hall. He looked down the hall. He leaned in and whispered, “The goat bolted.”
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.
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.