While having a conversation with Heather about monthly uterine purges and the psychological effects thereof, I invented a new H. P. Lovecraftian creature, the Zoth-Uterog. And here she is:
I knew I was going mad when I awoke from wandering the corridors of a fevered sleep to behold the star-spawned aberration squatting on the floor of my cramped apartments. From end to horrible end, it was approximately ten meters long, roughly tubular in shape, and had a sort of radial symmetry as is seen only in sea stars and other more arcane denizens of the deep. Its flesh was composed of a thick, blubbery material, and covered by a tight, purple, leathery hide. It was grossly strung with ropey slugs of a clotted, black fluid, and it was quietly lolling in a small pool of the same substance. The fetor reeking from the thing increased my light-headedness as I studied it
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You're Heather's new literary hero, by the way. She says you mimic the Lovecraftian style assiduously, and I am inclined to agree.
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