Some art, themed around a story I’d like to work on!
I’m not sure I’m a fan of this Creepypasta. And there we go, my work here is done. I can just pick up my check now, right?
I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure what to think of this one. Exactly how much terror can you wring out of something called My Ceiling Fan? Well, let’s find out.
“My ceiling fan has become a bizarre, um, fixture.”
Yes, that might actually be worse than mine.
“It contains three lights. The lights on my fan haven’t been changed since I bought the fan.”
Then that’s a pretty fucking lame fan, now isn’t it?
“I bought the fan about four years ago. The bizarre part of my fan is that only two lights have burnt out within four years. One of them flickered on and off on October 20, 2010. I thought nothing of it.”
Which may be the first and only time a lack of reaction in a Creepypasta has been justified.
“The next day, the light burnt out. I went to school thinking nothing of it. When I entered school, I found out a friend of mine had died.”
‘He had no name. Just… just a friend. He was a placeholder, really. Like beige curtains.’
“After school, I returned home and thought of the fan. It must have been just a wiring thing, nothing unusual about it.”
Yes. Obviously. Why are we talking about this?
“A little more than a month later, on December 5, another light began to flutter and flicker. I started to think about October.”
Why? Why would you even remember that?
“I felt a turn in my stomach and the light went out. I reached for my phone and texted a friend. Before I sent the text, I received a text from my friend Chris.”
So- what, Chris gets a name? But everybody else- eh, fuck ’em. They’re not as good as CHRIS.
“He said that another friend of mine was murdered. I looked at the lights. The two that went out flickered for a second. I steadily watched as the two lights faded.”
If it turns out that Nosferatu is sitting in the corner, flicking it off and on, I am going to be pissed.
“There is still one light left on my fan that hasn’t gone out. I have an anxious feeling in my stomach about it because it is slowing losing its luminosity.”
Um. So- so, you’re dead? Are you dead? We’re going to assume you’re dead. Somebody get the ref to call it. So, that was My Ceiling Fan! How was it?
What was that descriptor I used up top? “Beige curtains”? Yes. Go with that one.
There is absolutely nothing significant about today.
And until six million in negotiable barer bonds are sent to the Royal Bank of Canada, there will continue to be absolutely nothing significant about today.
I think it’s about time for people to discuss the real comparison by years old young adult book series: Who had the better sex life, the students at Hogwarts, or the campers at Camp Half-Blood?
Pros: Massive school, with plenty of little nooks and crannies to boink in.
Magical condoms? Entirely possible.
In house medical wing, for any STI or pregnancy assistance.
Different houses are pretty much built-in dating services.
Shapeshifting could keep things interesting.
Love potions are entirely legal.
Cons: Wait, how the fuck has love potions entirely legal? Multiple mind control and stunning spells leave consent very easy to circumvent.
Shapeshifting would get weird, fast.
Sex is against the rules.
No sexual education.
Can be monitored at all times.
House elves kill all arousal instantly.
Pros: A very scenic landscape, in which to boink.
With all the strenuous work-out, everybody is very, very fit.
Aphrodite campers would have all manner of safe sex equipment.
Hermes campers would be up for anything.
Hephaestus campers could design you all manner of sex toys.
Pseudo-incest if, you know, you’re into that.
Cons: … And the pseudo-incest is also a con for the rest of us. For obvious reasons.
Against the rules.
Sex rules, as all rules, are dictated by an angry god of wine who snaps insanity for the fun of it.
The forest, one of the excellent places to boink, is filled with dryads, who would NOT leave you alone. (Although, if you convinced them to join in, I guess that’d be a pro too?)
You and your partner are very, very likely to die. Even more than a Hogwarts kid, I mean.
The gods are always fucking with your love life. No, really. That is an actual in-universe plot point.
(This is what happens when one gets drunk off margaritas and marathons some Rick Riordan books before writing a post. Please make the room stop spinning.)
Happy Birthday, Canada! Gosh, isn’t THIS a fun holiday! I certainly hope my googling of it certainly doesn’t find a few hour old news article about somebody getting knifed tonight in my own town-
For a second, I forgot this was Winnipeg.
The post of today shall instead be represented by the John Oliver episodes that I’ve been marathonning all day on YouTube!
No? Dammit. Worth a shot. Alright, back to Omegle!
Do you accept Jesus our lord and savior?
Accept him as what? A second baseman? Our prime minister? Gay?
am I worth it? cause I really don’t think so
Well, you’re definitely worth this handful of raffle tickets I have! That is what you’re talking about, right?
I SEROIUSLY WOULSNT HAVE TO MASTURBATE EVERY NIGHT IF PEOPLE HMU I JUST MASTURBATE TO FILL THE EMPTY VOID IN MY HEART
Simple Plan has gotten weird this year.
Who wants to swap nudes
Only if I am literally swapping entire naked bodies with somebody. Mine is out of warranty.
Why are you on here right now?
Because I haven’t gnawed through the handcuffs yet.
o sht! my plane crash11!!!! #Boring.
Yes, yes, you’re very clever. Have a cookie.
What is your most taboo sexual fantasy?
Only wearing THREE condoms instead of five.