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ULTIMATE "GEEK-LOVE": H. P. Lovecraft was a virgin before marriage, and prepared for his wedding-night Rites of Spring the only way he knew how: By gathering up lots and lots of books on the subject, and reading them all - fully-functional and Al-haz-red in multiple techniques!
Sometimes I think
...But then I sink
UP THERE! There is so much room!
Up there, Up where the skies are ocean blue
They say I don't belong,
What is Evil anyway?
UP THERE! There is so much room!
Up there, Up where the skies are ocean blue
*stands in the back somewhere, inhaling sharply through a crystalline straw-like apparatus pointed - precisely along the path of a major interstellar ley line, no less - at the back of Vidmaster7's head* ...*sudden worried look in crossed eyes directed down at straw*
*coughs politely a few times* Ah. A-ha. Hmm, perhaps it is time I cut back....
*shows up again, now hefting something he didn't have before: a heavy, jingling sack oddly covered in static-clinging mothballs* Apologies *hee-hee!*, I was just *long, scary facial tic* having a deLIGhTfuL tête-à-tête vis-à-vis some *a-hahahaha* mutual annoyances of ours... ...now, to demonstrate my Culinary Arts acumen!: *blasts and blackens Dedrick, The Professor with his signature shriveling spell but only so much before conjuring a fire vampire to rapidly slow-roast the remains while he rehydrates them via the most delicate and loving means* ...now season with some hearty essential salts and peppercorns, and there you have it: Pot Roast Von Dedrick! ... Ah, and by the way: I understand there's recently been a vacancy in the Chemistry department?
A wise man, Count! *telekinetically throws Vidmaster7 out the window...*
Hm. I suppose we can trust that one!
OHH, COUNT HEYDRIIIICH...! *front door suddenly swings wide open, and in roughly the time it would take for a medium-sized anthropoid to move 60 feet, a long, thin shadow crosses the threshold, preceding a tall, thin, rain-drenched, somewhat heavily-armed fellow with multiple heavy bags* I...*heeheeheehee*...hear you have *titter* vacancies among your chemistry, astronomy *IA!*, *CH-CH-CH-CH/ah-ah-ah-ah* culinary arts, and *fhfhfhfhfh* medical psychology departments???
I've found you a lovely little place...! The next poster accepted a cosmic chariot-ride from great hoary Nodens - that meddlesome fool!
Indeed I do! *conjures a neh-thalggu* The next poster, years ago now, sold its soul for a bowl of good clam chowder.
Dear Possible-Honored-Cousin-π-Removed GoatToucher, I am...ah, having such an inordinate degree of difficulty (yesss) with a particular clue in a crossword puzzle, it, ah, evades even my superlative intellect, a-ha-ha! and I simply know not else where to *tic* turn. The clue, to which the corresponding proper answer is precisely 18 letters long (spaces and punctuation are entirely null for purposes of these puzzles, just to be clear), is: "First make haste, and drop the 'E', join with ashes' final resting place where 'N' is null, say only then what you get, iterate three, speak that aloud, and there HE'LL be." Be certain *hrk* to *titter* say it aloud, would you my good man? Just to be certain.... Yours in Damnation, Salvation, Beatification, and Perdition, A Connoisseur of the Great Old Ultra-Violence
GoatToucher:
13/13 Bela Lugosi's dead. 6/10. The "skullcap" comb-over shall always be the height of fashion for corrupt and wicked clergy and takes undeniable skill! Well done! -1 for your otherwise-tawdry dress-sense. I simply do not care for it. -3 because of my eternal disdain for clergy of almost any sort - even the wicked!
Dear, Sweet Uncle GoatToucher, Having said that you "appreciate a question of a more theoretical nature, rather than practical", I now submit to you onesuch that could be either or both, namely: How many +3 Dancing Pins can be firmly nailed into the head of an angel? Yours In Acute Professional Interest, سيد مفتاح الفضة
Ah, but this has been thrown into hot dispute by Alhazred's Theory of Indefinite-State Circumstance-Receptivity! *wistfully* Oh, Thrice-Greatest Alhazred, truly you left us all far behind in the race to face the Truth... *suddenly realizes he has just walked past New York's Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art* ...MOMA!? Oooooooooohhh!
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