Dry Spell

Those of you who have been following the ol’ raincoaster blog for some time will know that I’ve been on a largely raw vegan die(t) for three months now, with the result that I’ve gone from an XL to an L and no, it was NOT worth it.

It was most particularly not worth it because I had to give up my beloved cocktails; in fact, I believe I only consumed alcohol one day in the month of July and that was my birthday. In August I gave myself a few more “days off” and enjoyed some wine, but it must be said that in this, as in most things in life, Dean Martin had it right.

Dino is my hero

Listen to Dino; he KNOWS!

“I’d hate to be a teetotaler. Imagine getting up in the morning and knowing that’s as good as you’re going to feel all day.”

Well, exactly.

So, how does it feel to be a neo-teetotaler in Lotus Land, when one knows all the best bartenders and they all know it’s a Negroni, up, when you walk in the door unless it’s cold outside and then it’s probably Jack Daniels or if it’s been a very bad day, Champagne? Well, it doesn’t feel good. Have you ever been the only sober person at a blowout? That’s right: it feels like a bad dream. It feels, in fact, just as depicted in this incredible documentary, 28 Drinks Later.

And, lest we forget, here are some words of wisdom from Diogenes:

“What I like to drink most is wine that belongs to others.”

Cthihuahua fhtagn!

The dinosaurs were actually smaller than anyone imagined

The Cthuloid Cabazon Floyd; now it all makes so much sense!

Many warnings have we uttered. Many Cassandra-like cries have we cried to the oblivious masses. Not once, not twice, nay, not even thrice have we attempted to spread the truth about these malevolent, trembling mole-rats. We have shouted from the rooftops and twittered from the back alleys yea unto an thousandtimes, but have ye listened?

The Hell ye have.

They are not shy about their plans

we must strike back in the daytime, while they are trapped in purses around the globe

Let me give it to you straight, people: Chihuahuas are not simply evil, snappish, inbred yap machines, they are the spawn of the Great Old Ones themselves, come to Earth to subjugate mankind.

And from the neurasthenic, snappish comments on this Gawker post, they seem largely to have succeeded.

The woman dropped off 33 chihuahuas on Wednesday and nine more on Thursday morning. One of the chihuahuas gave birth to a puppy on Thursday, bringing the total to 43. All but six of the dogs are under the age of two…

and all but two of them needed spaying/neutering, and, in true Cthulhuonic fashion, they were deeply inbred, with all the revolting mental and physical deformities that go with that unspeakable aberration. But, right, I already TOLD you they were Chihuahuas. What’s most alarming is the number of commenters to whom the same descriptors can be applied.

You rarely see Rottweiler people getting pissy about people who don’t like Rotties. When was the last time you saw some undersexed, overmedicated chainsmoker screaming at someone because that person said their Labrador was “not a dog” eh? EH? The Labrador, you see, is a dog, as is the Rottie. As are the mutts at the pound, and the surly curs of Cairo back alleys, but as are not the tiny, fanged demons known as Cthihuahuas. They have obviously infiltrated the minds of the unwary, or the weak, and seized control

Long have we known, but been unable to prove to the doubters (a situation with which this far-ahead-of-its-time-and-incidentally-overhyphenated blog is all-too-familiar). Now, finally, from a remote Antipodean outpost not terribly far from the last reported sighting of The Great Cthulhu comes photo proof:

CthiCthuaCthua

CthiCthuaCthua KNEEL DOWN AND WORSHIP, BITCHES!!

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Fairy Photo: Proof of Skeletal Undead Fairies!

skeletal fairies torturing a cranefly

Once again, this blog is on the very forefront of fairy science as we reveal this shocking photo evidence that, as alluded to in the Victorian document known as “Peter Pan,” fairies are not only quite real (which the cognoscenti have known all along) but can actually die! This photo makes explicit what the timid author Barrie dared not even hint: that they can return to a hideous kind of animation after death, becoming zombie or skeleton fairies, consumed by malevolence and driven neither by hunger nor thirst, but only by the relentless, perverted need to kill, and kill again.

O cursed is the world that contains such abominations! Undead skeletal fairies, roaming the forest in search of innocent victims to torture! What unspeakable evil could have dreamed such perversion? Who can be behind this eldritch and unnameable madness?

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Meerkat Mafia

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Whitney’s never looked better!

Straight from the mouth of Hell, by way of Malabon City in the Philippines, comes today’s little snippet of bizarrerie: Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” as performed by … something between Grace Jones and the demon Paimon.

Enjoy???

And yes, that’s a man.

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Death Goat Unicorn Chaser

The last post was rather heavy, wasn’t it? You should SEE what blew up on Facebook; there must be 40 comments on that and the related posts. So it’s time for a little unicorn chaser, to reset the mood: in this case, weird, anxious, and generative of tense laughter. Behold DEATH GOAT:

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