Monstrous Sadness

Cold Waste Blues. Things are bad. Really bad. Really, really bad.

I’ll tell you how bad things are: even the Repulsive Moon Beasts of Leng are having massive fits of the megrims, that’s how bad things are. In fact, things are SO bad that even they, the RMBoL have had to rig several off-the-cuff support groups to deal with the epidemic of despondency that has oozed even into the farthest reaches of the Final Void. Any time now we’ll have the idiot god Azathoth phoning the Samaritans and Cthulhu complaining he can’t have a half decent night sleep as he keeps on being waken up by nightmares of Priti Patel trying to deport him “to Woga-Woga Land., where all these bloody foreigners come from, as everybody knows. Or so says she.

What kind of universe are we creating, I ask you?

Never mind. Have a thoroughly dissenting, obstreperously merry Xmas, if that’s what you celebrate. In fact, celebrate anything you feel like, be it only to spite the Tories. And Keir Starmer as well, that goes without saying. Love and firecrackers!