When life throws you a terrible curse in which you vomit squid, make calamari. Thanks, Michael!
Yeesh, lady, don’t play with your food. Set is NSFW. Thanks, Karenw!
The beautiful Anna Lucylle sent us a photo of her fantastic, Lovecraftian tattoo; as well as photos of it in its various stages. The ModBlog post contains a wonderfully heated, pedantic discussion on the correct pluralization of “octopus” as well.
I don’t care much for babies. Oh, sure, they have their uses: they propagate the species, they make excellent door stops, and its always good to have a few around to toss at attacking zombies. And philosophically, they are interesting: secreting loaves of swollen bologna that will one day pupate into only vaguely balogna-tasting human beings. But as far as neotenous fetishes are concerned, I prefer kittens and baby hedgehogs, which also can be hurled dramatically at a zombie in a pinch, although not without the tinge of self-loathing entirely absent in watching a human neonate be devoured by the undead.
That said, I’m tempted to get in contact with one of my Cambodian child brides and make a baby work. It never really occurred to me before that shopping for babies could be fun, that there were actual baby gifts that wasn’t just pastoral fairy tale crap, but designed with hypnotic patterns that could be used — barely out of utero — to actually help transform an infant into an adult that I’d actually want to have a conversation with.
Cue Baby Leo Designs, who make the most wonderful baby blankets, “security lovees” (?) and ominously-named-”Burpees” with designs ranging from vintage tattoos, Japanese prostitutes, retro robots and even a blanket covered in baby skulls… the perfect way to remind a new member of the family what happened to his misbehaving older siblings!
The colors in this photograph by Stephen Strange are simply fantastic, and the hard edged lines make it almost appear as if the octopus is a tattoo that has begun to crawl out of her skin. The effect is hypnotic.
Featured prominently amongst this collection of Russian criminals and their tattoos is this menacing gentleman, his shoulder adorned with tentacles. It was only moments after this picture was taken that he leapt at the photographer, viciously beating him to death with his cat.
Knowing people, as I do, with what I can honestly call a Hello Kitty obsession makes the thought of the feline icon as a tattoo within the realm of my accepted, and unfortunate, reality. Said icon transmogrified into a horrific Frankensavior as the aforementioned dermal adornment, complete with a pledge of eternal allegiance, however, is quite a different matter all together.
OH SWEET GOD THAT MAN HAS TENTACLE PIT! Thanks, Andreas!
r ator reminds us that the Tcho-Tcho people of Leng, located on a plateau just north of the Dreamlands have been making fine, Eldritch chocolate for generations or, perhaps, for a few months.
I’ve been fired many times from Ectomo; once for not procuring a picture of Spiderman for Eliza for the front page of the evening edition. Where was CB with Scott C’sFez wearing Spiderclique then?
Ever wanted to be suspended from the ceiling in sculpture that looks suspiciously like viscous fluid excreted from the loins of a giant? Kimi points out that artist Ernesto Neto has you, eh, covered.
Brian Morris, who describes himself in terms of Google Maps as “a freelance designer living on Chicago’s west side”, crafts, among other things, wonderful sculptures decorated with a Rockabilly tattooists sensibilities and an eye for the bizarre. Take for example this pig/human rape baby, looking all the world like it stepped out of a Woodring inspired nightmare.
While this video appears only to be a conceptual project from Phillips, it speaks volumes about the potential of this fascinating technology. Envision a kaleidoscope of color exploding across your skin as you laugh at a meme for the umpteenth time. Imagine subtly adjusting makeup that will never smear and disappears at will, or simply adjusting your tattoos to fit the costume of the day.
I wait with eager anticipation for the second generation of this tech, the first generation having ghoulishly dispatched early adopters by way of unintended side effects.
Cthulhu is not just a spaghetti mess of tentacles: that’s a calamari plate. But I like this picture, if only because I like to think this gentleman is wearing a banana hammock underneath. Ectotweeted by Camillo Miller, image from BMEInk.com.
Exposed musculature, gooey brains, pulsing hearts and fluorescent central nervous systems, in tattoo form. But still cheaper and more realistic to peel off your own flesh.
[note from Eliza: Brownlee is far better at running off at the mouth than I am, especially in times of stress and being busy. Forgive my silent posts for a few more days yet.]
Before I stumbled upon grupthink to check out an enigmatically promising link titled “The worst tattoo you have ever seen,” I was unaware how many fat, hairy people out there had enthusiastically goatse.cxed their navels, or otherwise transformed them into gigantic, cavernous anuses.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
Steve points out that horrible, horrible things take place backstage at Nine Inch Nails concerts. 
