Troglodytes and pampers

As if. The Lady Eris has sent proof of her engagement in the situation in the form of a cat without a nose. The Chaos Magick practice presupposes that someone has an income of at least 3000 euro per month, otherwise I see no way someone could do this seriously. I mean, yes, cut off your ties with all other human beings and devote yourself to acts of sacrilege and absurdity, yeah right, after your daily nine to five. Scratch my back, Watson, atta boy. And then I start to read the Pseudonomicon, by Hine, of how a possible connection with the Lovecraftian Old Ones could benefit the serious Chaos Magick student. My head has started to feel as if I am trying to give birth to a giant turnip through the ears. Well, I do see the bloke's point, and he has done some serious work there, and his points seem well justified, but he begins with the idea that magical work should bring one close (or over) the point of insanity anyway, just like any serious work with magic in general should. I have my customers trying to do that, thank you verrry much. No need to invoke Cthulhu when the neurotic lady next door is doing her best. In the one case I will develop some intense infatuation with sea shells and an aversion to certain surfaces like mirrors, as the author himself claims, in the other I will just grab a mini Uzi and rid this planet of the aforesaid lady and her offspring. I say the second is far more productive.

My dreams are a tangled mess of things chasing me, ravens, boobs and peckers, my ex boyfriends trying to fuck me and recent friends making my life quite difficult, a girl with two extra mouths attached to tentacle-like fleshy antennae left and right of her nape (disguised as hair styling), futile attempts to categorise several absurd things, flying, being a fairy of some sort, my dead grandmother with a new haircut and my (living) father, fisticuffs and people coming to my house. I think I should try to keep a dream diary of sorts. I keep saying this but I never do it. There are some places that I have visited more than once in my sleep and really find fascinating. Maybe make a dream map at some point? I wish.

I will download some POPE cards from the site of Discordians, so that everybody can recognise my status as a new messiah-ette. And then you will see, you infidels. I will make my birthday a holiday of drunken whales and invisible talking chocolate and each of you shall get his/her due.