The fucking Necronomicon! What else could your typical, barely-sociable, angst-fueled teenager come across that could possibly be more alluring than a scrumptious posterior: nothing. So taken aback by this stunning discovery, I actually pulled my gaze from the exquisite derriere of an intriguing and relatively hot kinda-goth coworker named Amelia.
Well, while facing and sorting the shelves one night while working at Waldenbooks in my teens, lo and behold I stumbled across this tome, the name of which is oft-whispered throughout the realms of geekdom. It might be just as well that this is the case the invocation of a reality-warping and vengeance-seeking ‘ancient one’ is probably not the type of s-t that I need going on during my weekend, especially when the alleged banishments of these unfathomable horrors are deemed wholly ineffective. It doesn’t even take until the conclusion of the Preface or Introduction to immediately recognize that this is not the truth, and you’re immediately crushed that “Evil Dead” is no longer the cinematic embodiment of the ruling truths as to the profundities of existence.
When you enroll in Pagan Worship 101 at the local community college (perhaps the only class I actually attended) this promising-looking volume is thrust upon you and heralded as the True Testament of the gods.
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