And a week that came in with Ashlee Simpson shall go out the same way...
Check out this photoshop contest.
thanks to Jim D. for bookending my week!
Friday, October 29, 2004
Our grand Prize Winner: Madalina Hinjosa, for telling a story both frightening and stomach churning
Halloween Spooky Stories: DAY 5, PART 2
The Taco Bell Tolls For Thee
At first glance, there's nothing Halloweenish about this story- it's
set in Hawaii on a beautiful summer's evening. But my magical evening would be turned upside down in an instant of pure horror.
Before I went to Hawaii, I was told of the abundant delicious food I would sample everywhere I went. My mouth watered imagining fresh mangos, pineapple and coconuts. However, when I arrived I found that everything is hella expensive in Hawaii. Since I preferred to spend my money on souvenirs, I carefully rationed out grocery store fare and starved my way through the days. (I have to confess, I did toss a couple of baloney slices off the balcony to feed the feral cats that lived at the hotel). No worries, though; I was in Hawaii after all.
One night, I picked up a plate of nachos at a Mexican fast-food restaurant
on the island. I only ate a little, since they weren't very good.
Nevertheless I was unwilling to throw a morsel away. I put the leftovers in the trunk of the rental car so that I could get back to the shops nacho-free.
Later that evening, I opened the trunk and picked up the container AND COCKROACHES CAME POURING OUT!
Halloween Spooky Stories: DAY 5, PART 2
by Madi
The Taco Bell Tolls For Thee
At first glance, there's nothing Halloweenish about this story- it's
set in Hawaii on a beautiful summer's evening. But my magical evening would be turned upside down in an instant of pure horror.
Before I went to Hawaii, I was told of the abundant delicious food I would sample everywhere I went. My mouth watered imagining fresh mangos, pineapple and coconuts. However, when I arrived I found that everything is hella expensive in Hawaii. Since I preferred to spend my money on souvenirs, I carefully rationed out grocery store fare and starved my way through the days. (I have to confess, I did toss a couple of baloney slices off the balcony to feed the feral cats that lived at the hotel). No worries, though; I was in Hawaii after all.
One night, I picked up a plate of nachos at a Mexican fast-food restaurant
on the island. I only ate a little, since they weren't very good.
Nevertheless I was unwilling to throw a morsel away. I put the leftovers in the trunk of the rental car so that I could get back to the shops nacho-free.
Later that evening, I opened the trunk and picked up the container AND COCKROACHES CAME POURING OUT!
HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR STORIES
DAY 5
Editor's Note: Jason (The League's older and less handsome brother)sent in two entries. The first one is posted last, the second one is posted first is descending scariness.
First Stories
My current home in south Austin once belonged to an elderly lady who bestowed it upon her grandaughter in her will. When I was closing on the house at my realtor's office, we had a quiet moment during which I attempted to make some small talk with the woman selling the house.
"So, is there anything I should know about the house that no one's told me?"
I was kind of thinking of plumbing problems or faulty electrical work.
"Well, it's haunted."
"Uh, what?"
"My grandmother used to live there and she died in that house. She's a friendly ghost, but she likes to open and close things and make noises. We're trying to take her with us when we move, but we're not sure she'll go."
"Uh...."
"Oh, it's ok. She'll leave you alone as long as there are good vibes in the house."
"Ooookay."
I've been there almost a year and a half, and so far, no sign of Grandma. Friendly ghost or not, I think I'm kind of glad. Still, I try to keep things positive at mi casa in order to avoid hassles from Grannie.
I had more problems at my last place. To my knowledge, my apartment at the edge of Travis Heights had never suffered the death of a resident or any other calamity, but as with most apartments, the place had an anonymous history that could seem a little creepy in its own right. Especially because weird stuff would happen there.
On at least 3 occasions, as I was lying in bed and trying to get to sleep, I would swear I heard my name spoken aloud, not in a shout or a whisper, but in a quiet speaking voice. The first two times this happened, I lept out of bed and ran around the apartment with my lacrosse stick in my hand, turning on all the lights. No one was ever there.
The third time this happened, I just pulled my pillow up over my head and tried to get to sleep. I was roused from bed a few minutes later by the sound of Calvin and Hobbes, my 2 pet ferrets, going crazy in their cage. I crept into the other room, and something big and black swooped down at my head. I screamed like a little girl, and grabbing a wine bottle, turned on the kitchen lights.
In the vaulted upper corner of my living room, a large black grackle sat perched on a picture frame and staring down at me with it's little black eyes. It screeched and I screamed again.
I opened the front and the patio doors, and it cirlcled the room a few times, screeching some more and flapping before flying out.
I checked the fireplace, but the flue was closed and the firescreen shut. To this day, I have never figured out the deal with the voice or the bird. Tripped my gourd, though, let me assure you.
Second Story
Hey. I know some scary stories. Remember that time we were watching The Exorcist at like 3 a.m. and it was thundering and lightning outside and you went to look out the window because you thought you heard a noise and you saw your own reflection and you screamed like a little girl and you stumbled backward over Mom's lamp? Oh wait. That's more of a funny story.
How about the time you emailed me a photo of your ass? That was scary.
In all seriousness, I do have one. Eric, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Mono Ensemble, has a harrowing tale passed on by his wife, Stephanie. One rainy night in Austin, Stephanie woke from sleep believing that she had heard some kind of strange noise in their kitchen. She tried to wake Eric, to no avail, and she went to investigate herself. Finding nothing in the kitchen, she assumed that one of their pet cats had made the commotion and she went to the refrigerator to get herself a drink. Standing in the dark, the only light in the room cast by the light of the ice box, she heard a noise and turned to see a young, pale boy with hollow eyes and a white shirt standing by her counter. She screamed and turned to look as Eric came running into the kichen to see what was the matter. The kid was no longer there and Eric was left standing in the kitchen looking on, bewildered.
Stephanie learned the next day that a teenage kid who ran with some of their family friends had OD'ed the night before and died after breaking into a veterinary clinic to steal tranquilizers. The kid had died in his family's kitchen and had been wearing a white, button-down shirt.
DAY 5
Editor's Note: Jason (The League's older and less handsome brother)sent in two entries. The first one is posted last, the second one is posted first is descending scariness.
First Stories
My current home in south Austin once belonged to an elderly lady who bestowed it upon her grandaughter in her will. When I was closing on the house at my realtor's office, we had a quiet moment during which I attempted to make some small talk with the woman selling the house.
"So, is there anything I should know about the house that no one's told me?"
I was kind of thinking of plumbing problems or faulty electrical work.
"Well, it's haunted."
"Uh, what?"
"My grandmother used to live there and she died in that house. She's a friendly ghost, but she likes to open and close things and make noises. We're trying to take her with us when we move, but we're not sure she'll go."
"Uh...."
"Oh, it's ok. She'll leave you alone as long as there are good vibes in the house."
"Ooookay."
I've been there almost a year and a half, and so far, no sign of Grandma. Friendly ghost or not, I think I'm kind of glad. Still, I try to keep things positive at mi casa in order to avoid hassles from Grannie.
I had more problems at my last place. To my knowledge, my apartment at the edge of Travis Heights had never suffered the death of a resident or any other calamity, but as with most apartments, the place had an anonymous history that could seem a little creepy in its own right. Especially because weird stuff would happen there.
On at least 3 occasions, as I was lying in bed and trying to get to sleep, I would swear I heard my name spoken aloud, not in a shout or a whisper, but in a quiet speaking voice. The first two times this happened, I lept out of bed and ran around the apartment with my lacrosse stick in my hand, turning on all the lights. No one was ever there.
The third time this happened, I just pulled my pillow up over my head and tried to get to sleep. I was roused from bed a few minutes later by the sound of Calvin and Hobbes, my 2 pet ferrets, going crazy in their cage. I crept into the other room, and something big and black swooped down at my head. I screamed like a little girl, and grabbing a wine bottle, turned on the kitchen lights.
In the vaulted upper corner of my living room, a large black grackle sat perched on a picture frame and staring down at me with it's little black eyes. It screeched and I screamed again.
I opened the front and the patio doors, and it cirlcled the room a few times, screeching some more and flapping before flying out.
I checked the fireplace, but the flue was closed and the firescreen shut. To this day, I have never figured out the deal with the voice or the bird. Tripped my gourd, though, let me assure you.
Second Story
Hey. I know some scary stories. Remember that time we were watching The Exorcist at like 3 a.m. and it was thundering and lightning outside and you went to look out the window because you thought you heard a noise and you saw your own reflection and you screamed like a little girl and you stumbled backward over Mom's lamp? Oh wait. That's more of a funny story.
How about the time you emailed me a photo of your ass? That was scary.
In all seriousness, I do have one. Eric, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Mono Ensemble, has a harrowing tale passed on by his wife, Stephanie. One rainy night in Austin, Stephanie woke from sleep believing that she had heard some kind of strange noise in their kitchen. She tried to wake Eric, to no avail, and she went to investigate herself. Finding nothing in the kitchen, she assumed that one of their pet cats had made the commotion and she went to the refrigerator to get herself a drink. Standing in the dark, the only light in the room cast by the light of the ice box, she heard a noise and turned to see a young, pale boy with hollow eyes and a white shirt standing by her counter. She screamed and turned to look as Eric came running into the kichen to see what was the matter. The kid was no longer there and Eric was left standing in the kitchen looking on, bewildered.
Stephanie learned the next day that a teenage kid who ran with some of their family friends had OD'ed the night before and died after breaking into a veterinary clinic to steal tranquilizers. The kid had died in his family's kitchen and had been wearing a white, button-down shirt.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
A while back, Jim D threatened to send me a crate of comics in the mail. I had begged him not to send anything as League HQ is even now working out an emergency plan to liquidate old comics which we know we will never read again (anyone want a run of Uncanny X-men from issue 160 - 300?). But th nonetheless, the box arrived last evening, and is filled with interesting stuff. The comics he sent along are a fascinating assortment, and all very new, so I'm surprised he wanted to dump them so quickly.
Most satisfying (and the only issue I had time to read) was that he'd sent along Astonishing X-Men in which Colossus returns.
Leaguers, I fairly much quit reading X-Men when they killed Colossus about six years ago, and if it weren't for the acid-trip, pop insanity of Grant Morrison's New X-Men (which managed to feel more like speculative fiction/ sci-fi than the usual soapy melodrama of the X-titles), I'd have never have picked up another issue. Well, now my favorite Russian comic character is back, and I have the issue to prove it. But this is Marvel comics, so it's entirely possible that Colossus is a clone or an alien replicant or something. But, I'm giving Petey the benefit of the doubt.
Anyway, thanks for mailing me what might have amounted to your garbage, old chum! You sent some great stuff along!
And in the: You can't make anybody happy category, the new batsuit for the Christian Bale starring Batman Begins is now being ridiculed by Batfans everywhere.
You know what, comic fans? Gray tights with blue underwear on the outside probably ISN'T the most effective crime fighting ensemble, so I'm not REALLY sure you're moaning about.
Anyway, here's the suit.
There are a lot of complaints that it's no better than the previous Batsuits, but I'm not sure there was really anything WRONG with the previous batsuits. Maybe the guys inside the suits, and the movies around the suit... and, sure... I'd have loved to have seen Batman in a gray body suit... but I also understand what looks good in comics might not look so good on film.
Let the debate begin! And, no bat-nipple comments. THose were already well-covered by the comic nerds.
Most satisfying (and the only issue I had time to read) was that he'd sent along Astonishing X-Men in which Colossus returns.
Leaguers, I fairly much quit reading X-Men when they killed Colossus about six years ago, and if it weren't for the acid-trip, pop insanity of Grant Morrison's New X-Men (which managed to feel more like speculative fiction/ sci-fi than the usual soapy melodrama of the X-titles), I'd have never have picked up another issue. Well, now my favorite Russian comic character is back, and I have the issue to prove it. But this is Marvel comics, so it's entirely possible that Colossus is a clone or an alien replicant or something. But, I'm giving Petey the benefit of the doubt.
Anyway, thanks for mailing me what might have amounted to your garbage, old chum! You sent some great stuff along!
And in the: You can't make anybody happy category, the new batsuit for the Christian Bale starring Batman Begins is now being ridiculed by Batfans everywhere.
You know what, comic fans? Gray tights with blue underwear on the outside probably ISN'T the most effective crime fighting ensemble, so I'm not REALLY sure you're moaning about.
Anyway, here's the suit.
There are a lot of complaints that it's no better than the previous Batsuits, but I'm not sure there was really anything WRONG with the previous batsuits. Maybe the guys inside the suits, and the movies around the suit... and, sure... I'd have loved to have seen Batman in a gray body suit... but I also understand what looks good in comics might not look so good on film.
Let the debate begin! And, no bat-nipple comments. THose were already well-covered by the comic nerds.
Halloween Spookiness with The League: Day 4
by The League
In 2000 or so I literally saw an unidentified flying object. The guy I was with also saw it, but we wrote it off as a weather balloon.
But hauntings? Nah. Not really. When I was in second grade we thought a house which was for sale in the neighborhood was haunted. Back then, we would sneak into empty houses before they sold (yeah, even in Houston in Cypresswood back in the 80’s, not everyone locked every door), trudge around, and sneak out. We had rules about not doing any damage, and so we never got caught.
And I don’t know if someone saw something, or we heard something or what… but we knew something was in there. A week later we learned that there was a raccoon in the house which attacked a realtor. Which is funny, but not scary. And we’re all lucky we didn’t wind up with rabies.
After we moved from Houston to Austin, it was reported my dad (who was and is still alive) was appearing as an apparition in the kitchen of our former home. I’m a skeptic of this particular haunting. While we lived in that house, I don’t remember Dad ever appearing in the kitchen except to get a piece of cheese out of the fridge. No, if Dad was going to haunt something back then, it would have been the recliner. They would have seen a ghostly newspaper floating in the air, occasionally telling them to pipe down and clean up their Legos.
After that, I don’t remember much in the way of ghosts popping up in my life. Justin L. told me his front room was haunted by the ghost of a lady who had died there. Apparently she used to run her hands over her jewelry in a porcelain dish beside her bed. At night, he said, you could hear the sound of metal on porcelain, clinking around in the front room.
In college, like 3000 of my closest friends, I moved into Jester dormitory, the 14 story monstrosity designed by a former prison architect. Not long after moving in, I realized that Jester was/ is, in fact, alive. And it was trying to kill me.
Anyone who lived in Jester knows that the building is enormous. Just my tower was 14 floors of more than 90 residents per floor. Not to mention classrooms, a cafeteria, a creepy basement, study lounges, piano lounges…. The building has stood for only a few decades, but I think, and this is my theory, but I think that so much STUFF happens in Jester, that all of that… stuff… leaves a sort of residue. The building has come to expect the overworked, overstressed, oversexed, sleep deprived, emotionally distended lives of 18-20 year olds for so long that… you know… when the building sits empty like it did over OU weekend, that being alone in a building you can hear breathing…
Sounds would materialize and dissipate, occasionally you’d see someone you didn’t know pass by in the hallway and stick your head out and they’d be gone…. All easy enough to understand, I suppose.
And at 4:00am, I wandered out into the elevator lobby, hearing a strange, persistent sound, metal on metal… the elevator doors standing ajar, the elevator a floor below, and when I stuck my head down the shaft to see what was going on, the elevator suddenly plummeted in free fall, the doors to the shaft closing almost upon my head.
And then one night when everyone has left for Dallas for the big game or gone home, or has ditched for the weekend, you’re looking down the hallway, and you’re shouting “Is anyone else here?” because you think you hear music, but you can’t tell from where, but nobody answers. And there’s something in the hallway, and it’s already upon you, and it’s not that it’s creeping up on you, because now it’s surrounding you and seems to almost be giving off a tangible hum, and its density is growing, and…
Danny isn’t here Mrs. Torrence…
Aside from that, I don’t have any real ghost stories. I got attacked by the Creature from the Black Lagoon once, but that was more irritating than scary.
by The League
In 2000 or so I literally saw an unidentified flying object. The guy I was with also saw it, but we wrote it off as a weather balloon.
But hauntings? Nah. Not really. When I was in second grade we thought a house which was for sale in the neighborhood was haunted. Back then, we would sneak into empty houses before they sold (yeah, even in Houston in Cypresswood back in the 80’s, not everyone locked every door), trudge around, and sneak out. We had rules about not doing any damage, and so we never got caught.
And I don’t know if someone saw something, or we heard something or what… but we knew something was in there. A week later we learned that there was a raccoon in the house which attacked a realtor. Which is funny, but not scary. And we’re all lucky we didn’t wind up with rabies.
After we moved from Houston to Austin, it was reported my dad (who was and is still alive) was appearing as an apparition in the kitchen of our former home. I’m a skeptic of this particular haunting. While we lived in that house, I don’t remember Dad ever appearing in the kitchen except to get a piece of cheese out of the fridge. No, if Dad was going to haunt something back then, it would have been the recliner. They would have seen a ghostly newspaper floating in the air, occasionally telling them to pipe down and clean up their Legos.
After that, I don’t remember much in the way of ghosts popping up in my life. Justin L. told me his front room was haunted by the ghost of a lady who had died there. Apparently she used to run her hands over her jewelry in a porcelain dish beside her bed. At night, he said, you could hear the sound of metal on porcelain, clinking around in the front room.
In college, like 3000 of my closest friends, I moved into Jester dormitory, the 14 story monstrosity designed by a former prison architect. Not long after moving in, I realized that Jester was/ is, in fact, alive. And it was trying to kill me.
Anyone who lived in Jester knows that the building is enormous. Just my tower was 14 floors of more than 90 residents per floor. Not to mention classrooms, a cafeteria, a creepy basement, study lounges, piano lounges…. The building has stood for only a few decades, but I think, and this is my theory, but I think that so much STUFF happens in Jester, that all of that… stuff… leaves a sort of residue. The building has come to expect the overworked, overstressed, oversexed, sleep deprived, emotionally distended lives of 18-20 year olds for so long that… you know… when the building sits empty like it did over OU weekend, that being alone in a building you can hear breathing…
Sounds would materialize and dissipate, occasionally you’d see someone you didn’t know pass by in the hallway and stick your head out and they’d be gone…. All easy enough to understand, I suppose.
And at 4:00am, I wandered out into the elevator lobby, hearing a strange, persistent sound, metal on metal… the elevator doors standing ajar, the elevator a floor below, and when I stuck my head down the shaft to see what was going on, the elevator suddenly plummeted in free fall, the doors to the shaft closing almost upon my head.
And then one night when everyone has left for Dallas for the big game or gone home, or has ditched for the weekend, you’re looking down the hallway, and you’re shouting “Is anyone else here?” because you think you hear music, but you can’t tell from where, but nobody answers. And there’s something in the hallway, and it’s already upon you, and it’s not that it’s creeping up on you, because now it’s surrounding you and seems to almost be giving off a tangible hum, and its density is growing, and…
Danny isn’t here Mrs. Torrence…
Aside from that, I don’t have any real ghost stories. I got attacked by the Creature from the Black Lagoon once, but that was more irritating than scary.
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