Dexter's Guide to Cthulhu for Idiots
Dear Idiots of the World,
I understand your wondering 'who is Cthulhu?' Well, if you don’t know I have to assume you have been living under a rock with your head up your ass and your nose buried in some boring oldie-timey book by Jane Austen.
Well, let me tell you: Jane Austen doesn’t know shit about old-time.
Here’s the deal -- once upon a time in the 1920s of America, there was a pulp writer named Howard Phillip Lovecraft, the first and probably last. He was a geeky, brainy guy who liked to spell words like they do in England and he was married to a Jewish lady but, sadly, didn’t have sex with her for some reason.
While he wasn't having sex with his Jewish wife he had time to write about something called THE CTHULHU MYTHOS. Which is a fancy way to say -- before there were humans, there were big scary powerful monsters who ruled the earth, life, the universe and everything. Like that Douglas Adams book but scarier. They were called THE OLD ONES. Old because they were really, really OLD. And Ones because they weren't human or plant or animal or mineral -- they were just like ONES of something. Okay?
The biggest and scariest old one is CTHULHU. He's a ginormous green fish monster with tentacles on his face, wings on his back and like suckers and feelers all over his totally ripped body. Also, he has eyes. Just two -- on his head where you’d expect to find them.
Well, Cthulhu ruled the Earth. It was so easy for him, he must have got bored because he fell asleep while he was flying over the ocean and fell in. Ker-Sploosh! So now he's just sleeping in the ocean, right? But he didn’t set an alarm to wake himself up. So he's kind of half-awake, half asleep. He's like when you get really drunk on a work night, and you lie down on the couch at three am and you’re like I can make it to work if I can just get to sleep—but you can't really sleep cause you're just dreaming about how drunk you are, right?
So, Cthulhu he like sends dreams to people—that are like Hey! I’m here, I'm horrible, I'm sleepy. Come wake me up and you can rule the world with me.
So that's basically what Lovecraft wrote -- I summed it up for you w/o the weird speling and sexual frusteration.
HERE'S WHAT LOVECRAFT DIDN’T KNOW THAT I DO: CTHULHU IS REAL!
So, in real life, I myself have received MULTIPLE dreams from CTHULHU. Sometimes people ask me, "Dexter why do you want to wake Cthulhu if he’s so horrible?" The answer is so simple I learned it in fucking kindergarten:
IF YOU CAN’T BEAT THEM, RUN AWAY FROM THEM, HIDE FROM THEM or PAY THEM TO STOP CALLING YOU POOR -- JOIN THEM.
Besides, Cthulhu isn't like some sleazy used car salesman. When he says 'Hey! help me wake up and I'll spare you' -- you can trust him. So SMART PEOPLE who want to rule the world with Cthulhu formed something called THE CULT of CTHULHU. Of which, like that bald guy who used to be on TV at three am, I am not just a member, I am the president… of my local chapter.
And I encourage you all to stop reading that Jane Austen shit, pull your head out of your ass, get out from under the rock and JOIN US!
And, some night, if youre feeling very sensitive and a little drunk—CTHULHU will CALL YOU.
Thankx for reading and peasant DREAMS!
From the orifice of:
Member and president (of local chapter)
Cult of Cthulhu