I'M THE MAKER OF MY OWN EVIL @krimprim - Tumblr Blog

23. any pronouns. egyptian/australian. mostly horror blog.

content warnings for: blood, gore, some body horror. I do tag for it mostly but if you're real averse to that kind of thing then this isn't the best place to be. only fictional stuff, nothing real.

I don't post about it much but I'm really into crafts like sewing, knitting, crochet. always eager to help beginners by answering questions and stuff like that.

always always always seeking horror movie recs.

gr * letterboxd

#pin pin pin

theninetiesdaily

TWIN PEAKS (1991) dir. David Lynch

#twin peaks

csms-jpg

Some stars from my journals

I don’t know who the genius was that decided to make spuffy cat parents… but they need a raise

#buffy the vampire slayer

jellymonstergrrrl

Nope (2022) dir. Jordan Peele

#nope

sloppjockey

anexchange / gouache painting on paper

#horror #art

szollibisz

one thing about me is I'm a dyke that bites

chuckysource

CHILD’S PLAY 2 (1990) dir. John Lafia

#😭#childs play #childs play 2

mastersofthe80s

David Cronenberg and Clive Barker

e-seal-deactivated20210319

Who are the dudes holding them?

cipheramnesia

Stephen King and Jerry Seinfeld

#photography

passengerpigeons

haters will see a winter enjoyer and say "why are you going outside it's cold and boring" and not even see the beauty in desolation and stillness 🙄

jtrahan

Tech Support

You work tech support at a company that makes robot butlers, and every day people call you to complain that their brand new robot butler keeps serving soft boiled eggs when it has clearly been instructed to make them poached. “Please hold for a moment,” you say. You push back your chair and walk down past the long line of other workers hunched over their monitors or jabbering into headsets and you push open the door to the prototype room, where a dozen robot butlers are preparing eggs at stoves all around the edge. There is a lot of egg on the floor and there is egg on the ceiling and egg dripping from the light fixtures. One of the robots has begun stirring its bowl of egg faster and faster, inhumanly fast, and the whisk abruptly flies out of it hands and embeds itself in the wall. “I can’t do this anymore!” shrieks another of the butlers, and it begins to advance on its handlers, electric mixer raised above its head. A SWAT team bursts in through the door and guns the robot down in a hail of bullets, which is unnecessary because you can just shut down all the robots remotely, but ever since the new nationwide robotic police force was established the government has instituted programs providing employment to now indigent SWAT teams, and they only know one way to do things.

You sort of just take it all in for a bit, and then you go back to your cubicle and pick up the phone. “Listen,” you tell the customer on the other end, “You don’t need a robot butler. They’re completely useless. The only reason they exist at all is because some people have too much money and they can’t stand the idea of just giving it away. Our entire economy is built on inventing expensive new kinds of garbage to sell in the hope that eventually a tiny amount of money will trickle back over to the people who actually need it. Take the robot, and–”

The side of your cubicle explodes inward as another SWAT team smashes through the wall, screaming at you to get on the ground so that you can be properly fired. Almost at the same moment the other side of the cubicle explodes as a team of HR representatives smashes through that wall, thick employee handbooks strapped to their chests and limbs like body armor, screaming that you can’t be fired because the damage control following your outburst has created so many jobs for company lawyers and publicists that you’ve actually saved the local economy. You watch the SWAT team and HR reps create jobs for the nearby hospital by beating the shit out of each other for a while, and then you quietly slip away and out the side door.

Someone is running across the employee parking lot in the distance. As you approach you realize it is the deranged robot butler from earlier, somehow slipped out past security, body riddled with bullet holes, electric mixer still clutched in its fist. It is staring at the sun and there are motor oil tears leaking from its eye sockets.

You watch as it feverishly rushes for the edge of the parking lot. The robot vaults the guard rail, sprinting towards freedom, and is immediately run over by a self-driving car.

#writing

fruitandflowercrowns

to the naked eye

source

#art

freetheworms

listen. if u like/reblog my posts fairly frequently, u better believe that i have noticed ok. even if we don’t ever talk. if we aren’t even mutuals! doesn’t matter. i see you. i see your URL pop up in my notifications every so often. and when it does? oh, when it does……… i’m like “oh hey there’s my buddy! gee i sure missed u pal!” and i get real happy for a minute ok. sorry, i don’t make the rules.