The Haunter of the Dark is great too.
>in b4 dies to lightning
>not having an outer god as your waifu
Also, Kuuko a shit
>not wanting to plunge your submarine into the darkest unknown trench of the vast, deep ocean
>not discovering the sunken city of r'lyeh and being dragged down into it
>not being taken into a dripping wet chamber cunningly pumped with air breathable by a human through some unseen, amazing contrivance built into the temple's antediluvian construction
>not meeting the bleary-eyed, just awoken Cthulhu MILF who drowsily smiles and licks her upper lip as she produces a terrible, mind-shattering "ara ara, what have we here?"
>not spending the next few seemingly eternal days of your life having your meat used as a sex toy by an eldritch monster that came from beyond the stars before dying in horrified orgasmic bliss and her alien womb is filled with so much quivering human genetic jelly that she uses it to give birth to a Star-Spawn
Those damn young Japanese men are too attractive, even the crawling chaos itself found them too sexually alluring to resist.
We should all pray for his sanity, for on their wedding night, in the throes of passion, she will reveal all of her forms to him. And then proceed to fuck him with them.
I heard there's an Outer God lingering here. Have you seen this Outer God? I'm here to Lemuria Impact this Outer God.
Made me lose so many SAN points that I buyfag'd. No regrets.
>Not enjoying every millisecond of the Nyarlathotep gangrape.
You messed up the multiverse so much that Azathoth had to turn into a girl and fix everything.
>Between dogs and cats my degree of choice is so great that it would never occur to me to compare the two. I have no active dislike for dogs, any more than I have for monkeys, human beings, tradesmen, cows, sheep, or pterodactyls; but for the cat I have entertained a particular respect and affection ever since the earliest days of my infancy. In its flawless grace and superior self-sufficiency I have seen a symbol of the perfect beauty and bland impersonality of the universe itself, objectively considered, and in its air of silent mystery there resides for me all the wonder and fascination of the unknown. The dog appeals to cheap and facile emotions; the cat to the deepest founts of imagination and cosmic perception in the human mind. It is no accident that the contemplative Egyptians, together with such later poetic spirits as Poe, Gautier, Baudelaire and Swinburne, were all sincere worshippers of the supple grimalkin.
He would claim waifu.
He was a huge racist, but that's more because times were different back then. He didn't give people tips on how to write though dude, he would like get a rough draft from his pen-pal friends and change it completely with huge paragraphs crossed out and the old-english equivalent of "It's shit" scrawled all over different pages. He did definitely act as an extremely capable proofreader though.
One of his editors even tricked him into writing a new piece to put in that old ass magazine he used to write for by sending him a god awful story, then let him get autistic over it. It ended up only having something like 70 of the original sentences after Lovecraft was done with it, it was an utterly different piece.
Not that we'd have a choice, remember who we're dealing with...