My favorite book dealer called me the other night. Apparently he has uncovered the journal of a member of that blasted cult, The Esoteric Order of Dagon, a loathsome group whose destruction could only be considered a boon to all of humanity, even to the very earth itself. Now, I am sure that this diary, complete, according to his description over the phone, with detailed depictions of their vile rites and fiendish visions, is a fabrication, but I feel it might be good bedside reading; something to churn my mind into a proper state for incubating nightmares.

This book dealer, whose name I will not mention for fear that he may grow too popular to take the time to inform me of his finds, is one of the best in the field of occultic literature and mythology. He is recognized by many of the finest minds in the field as a constant source of new discoveries, but something about him does not sit well in my gut. Now, I have spent years studying the twisted mythologies of the C'thulhu cults and have stared down priests of blasphemous gods whose names cannot be mentioned without proper safeguards and I have even watched rogue Gnostic-sect designed rituals intended to bring about the end of the world, but there is something about watching my book dealer using his finger to probe for bits of food stuck between his teeth and his cheek and then examining his finger and then sucking any food he found off of his finger which just makes me want to run screaming into the darkness desperately trying to find a warm place to drool on myself while sobbing quietly.

You can see my dilemma. Buy the book and risk seeing this unholy bit of amateur dentistry or forgo the book and remain sane. Feel free to leave me a note with your thoughts.

Reading A Tale of Two Cities
Wishing 5 PM would come sooner
Plotting to learn to whistle a hypnotic tune which will render those around me helpless