I grew up in a wooded area — my parents still live there. And something that happened this past December put a creepy spin on a thing that happened when I was a kid.
Pizzafarts
sprinkledonuts
Posted this to a different website a couple of years ago but deleted that account, figured I’d add to all the tales here that I’ve enjoyed reading. Anyway, here’s the story:
When I was 9, my family moved to a small, ranch style house in a very rural suburb on Lake Erie. The last house we lived in was over 100 years old, and my family has personal ghost stories about little things they’d seen and heard while they lived here, but for my little sister and I, this new house would be the home…
About 11 years ago, myself, my husband and our one-year-old daughter moved into a house on a quiet cul-de-sac in a great neighbourhood. The house had been built in the 70’s and had not been updated, so inside it wasn’t overly attractive, but it was spacious with a nice little yard and it was affordable. Weird things…
As my parents gave me more freedom and independence so they could enjoy themselves as adults I was often left at home to do homework, talk on the phone, or as I was wont to do: listen to Van Halen. In the spring of 1980, at 13, we lived on the West Bank military base across the Mississippi river from New Orleans. My…
Not supernatural, but scary (and true) as fuck. This has been on my mind after the stories of that young woman killed by someone who worked at her apartment complex.
LONG LIVE DOG
The general phenomenon, of which this is a specific illustration, is probably that anyone who has received prestige as an Ethics professor knows a million fancy ways to rationalize to themselves whatever they want to do anyway, under this or that alternative argument (and also a million fancy ways to condemn the…
Donny Jr pushed Eric to do it. Told him “Daddy says if you’re mean to pretty girls, they really like it.” Eric has been waiting to sit behind Stormy in class so he can pull her hair and kick her chair. And giggle.
Saw this today, apropos:
Jesus, the person in the red coat riding at that point just disappears into the tangled wreckage.
Every time I see that poor child my heart breaks. The slumped shoulders and thousand yard stare bespeak a soul who waits with diminishing hope for a luck dragon to appear and take him away from this nightmare.
I find it increasingly hard to enjoy a lot of movies I used to enjoy — especially those centered around relationships — because they celebrate really fucked-up power dynamics.
I could not get into breaking bad because of how White treated his wife. He was a garbage person from the jump, and we’re supposed to see him as this hero who takes on the burden of illness by himself by selling drugs. Fuck off Walter. Sorry you got cancer but you’re not an awesome husband(or even decent) for lying to…
I dated a white rapper and it was terrible. He is terrible. Don’t date white rappers.
Omg I have always watched that scene where she “kills the mood out of fear that he’ll spill beer on her Italian silk couch” and thought that would be me. He really would have spilled the beer. I just couldn’t let that happen. I’ve thought about that scene a lot and have tried to work against my calling as a neurotic…
Now playing
Henri is pissed they took his ennui.
The fact that these russia loving, humanity hating, classless, cultureless, chinless, dickless, spineless, Garland Merrick blocking, scheming, semi-sentient, greedy blobs of shit with horrible HORRIBLE fitting skin suits have the gall to call anyone else in the entirety of Democracy obstructionist fills me with so…
The most unsettling part is how quickly he turns to assisting her. Picking up her purse, attempting to put her glasses back on. It’s that sort of, “I’m so nice, why do you make me do this?” behavior. The power dynamic of abusers is absolutely chilling.