In his sunken stable of R’lyeh, dead My Little Cthulhu waits, dreaming. If you wish, you may brush his tentacles with the included comb. You do so at your own risk, however.

My Little Cthulhu by Spippo [deviantART] Thanks to everyone who sent this in!

Rising out of the sugary deep to celebrate a special event, such as a birthday or the end of the world.

Cthulhu Cake [Flickr] : uploaded by raingirllori : Ectochat

The power of Ectomo is both wondrous to behold and terrifying to contemplate, as any ectomite knows all too well. Certainly it is a wonder closet of dazzling proportions but it also has a dark and unholy box perched on its top shelf, high up where little ones can’t get to it. Things lurk in this neat little package, things not fit for the minds of man, let alone his spawn.

One must assume, however, that some will find their way into Ectomo’s stash, perhaps when it was left out on the table; after all, these things do happen and the occasional moment of forgetfulness can be forgiven. Not so in this case, however. No, faithful readers, no in this case we must turn our stern eye of judgment toward one Nathan Myers, a gentleman with a wanton disregard for human life and a destroyer of innocence. Mr. Myers is responsible for the most heinous of crimes he has shown his no doubt wonderful and carefree eight year old daughter Ectomo’s secrets and wrought untold damage.

Once exposed to the tentacled, crawling blasphemy contained therein his once lighthearted progeny at once fell into a deep morass of babbling, incoherent madness; her eyes, no doubt, displaying the same dual irises portrayed in In The Mouth of Madness. Her mind shattered, she shuffled off and immediately took up a waxy writing implement and began to work feverishly, trying desperately to put on paper the horror that now assaulted her mind’s eye in a futile attempt to make sense of it.

The product of this sick experiment was this piece, entitled “Sun Goes Like This”. As you can see, clearly the dank recesses of Ectomo have wormed their way into every aspect of the poor little girl’s world, rendering everything a tentacled nightmare. A parade of transmogrified beasts — Shoggoth, perhaps — travel through an empty wasteland under the scorching gaze of a mindless, Cthulhoid sun, led by what appears to be a banished Innsmouth resident upon a R’lyehan death-horse. Truly a bleak and terrible world and a warning to all: the power of Ectoplasmosis is mighty and not to be wielded by those who would prove irresponsible. Take care, Nathan Myers, your daughter’s lost sanity rests on your head.

• An accusatory finger points at the sphincter of a nine-tentacled octopus. A nonopus? Thanks, Karen!

• Cycloptic space squidling hugs onto the side of a Mars rover in the latest Ectomo-endorsed Threadless tee. Thanks, Blackrockbob!

• Brad sends in this news report about a strange virus hitting the most remote island on earth, triumphantly crowing “IT HAS BEGUN!” R’lyeh, anyone?

• Creationism dismissed as a ‘kind of paganism’ by Vatican’s astronomer. This story seems to be surprising a lot of people, but Catholicism has been edging away from a literal interpretation of Genesis for centuries now. This guy’s making some good points. ectotweeted by Wolven.

• Also from Wolven, some sort of bacon flowchart.

• Nicholas Cage goes absolutely zonkers when confronted with the prospect of authographing the six breasts of three twins. Hey, who wouldn’t? Ectotweeted by oldhat.

• The best thing to come out of yesterday’s inaugural ectochat: “Marmaduke, are you even listening to me you zany dog?”