Sometimes it can be hard to tell the change agents from the uncle toms. Like with Squiddy here…
From the New Yorker (which does not have it online at the mo) via inkycircus.
Sometimes it can be hard to tell the change agents from the uncle toms. Like with Squiddy here…
From the New Yorker (which does not have it online at the mo) via inkycircus.
me wantssssssssss it, preciousssssssssssss. Isn’t it loverly?
It’ll be just the thing to wear to meetings with government funding agencies.
Bob Basset from, apparently, Y’ha-nthlei or environs, presents his latest artwork:
blame engtech at Internet Duct Tape for feeding my addiction!
I’m SO enraged about this, you have no idea. And it happened in Seattle, of all places!
Fundies! Bah! It’s not enough that they try to prevent girls from getting an education, cover women’s faces, and consequently subject Chanel cosmetics to vast overpricing in the finer Gulf department stores.
No.
Now they’ve finally done it. Forcing this gorgeous creature to cover up! Congrats to Archie on finding photographic evidence of this outrageous suppression of natural beauty.
What do you people think? Is he going after Cthulhu this time?
It’s just too bloody perfect, you know. The protagonist in The Call of Cthulhu was an aging archaeologist with a reputation for doing things his own way. With his trusty buddy, Inspector Legrasse, he crosses the globe, attempting to puzzle out the mysterious connection between a precious religious artifact, a cannibalistic cult of Louisiana swamp dwellers, and a vicious tribe of Greenland Esquimaux.
Blowing away forever all pretence to cool I may once have possessed, I have re-edited Howard Phillips Lovecraft‘s immortal Gothic tale The Call of Cthulhu, and placed at its heart a certain Midwestern academic who is, himself, no stranger to the strange.
Right-click, Save As:
Indiana Jones and the Call of Cthulhu: complete text by raincoaster
Also: Indy in a hat. Still hawt?