Today we have another guest post from our good friend London McGuire! Enjoy!
After watching a great deal of horror movies over the years, my standards for a truly frightening film have been raised considerably. It becomes second nature to dismiss all of Hollywood’s attempts in the genre as meaningless reboots and blood-drenched farces. Perhaps that is why it seems impossible not to take notice of the few films which tell an original story worth hearing, that utilize the best elements of classic horror and are actually scary.
I’ve probably mentioned before that it’s really hot where I live. Halloween, outside of the regular fun it brings, also means that we can go outside and play again. It’s the harvest and the promise of holidays, cold air, wood smoke, and festivals. It’s not just a day or a month; it’s a feeling. Unfortunately, that feeling is seasonal and, for me anyway, gone all too quickly.
So, I spend my time looking for things that keep that feeling alive. I scour the internet looking for stuff that truly defines the meaning and the spirit of my favorite time of year. A while back I was doing some scouring and I came across an artist who captures both the meaning and the spirit perfectly. When I saw Heather Gleason’s art I immediately felt a cool northerly breeze and caught the scent of caramel and cinnamon and burning leaves…
Tonight we have something a little different. Please enjoy the first part of a nice ghost story by a friend of Scarydad, Mr. Gene Yagley III. This is Scarydad’s first experiment with an episodic story so let me know what you think.
Tonight’s post comes to us from friend and fellow blogger Matt Cashdollar. Matt normally writes about mysterious and frightening things such as technology and automation. In the future when the machines rise up and kill us all, he’ll either be the leader of the resistance or the very reason it happened in the first place. Check out Matt’s blog here.
When I was a kid, my friends and I would go camping in the woods near my
house. This was when I lived near the Appalachian mountains, in rural
Pennsylvania. Nearby was “the strip mine” which was an old open pit coal
mine that had been flooded with water and turned into a series of small
ponds and a general garbage dumping area for the county. We decided to go
camping just off the dirt road next to the strip mine. Our road didn’t
have a name – it was just called Rural Delivery #1. We were all poor,
I’m going to make it quick tonight my friends. The cold weather is upon us as well as pumpkin spice and holiday cheer. Nothing improves the mood like a good ghost story. And who better to recommend a great ghost story than the incomparable Roald Dahl?
I picked up Roald Dahl’s Book of Ghost Stories years ago and it continues to be a favorite of mine. These stories run the gamut from creepy to weird to downright scary. It is said that Dahl read 749 stories in search of the best ones to include in this collection. In my opinion, he chose well.
Good Evening Minions and Happy October! I apologize for the span of time between the last post and this one. You see, I was compelled to travel to the most haunted city on Earth to collect stories and pictures for you, my beloved. Unfortunately I had both crappy internet and a serious case of the being on vacation and wasted on Bourbon Street to properly keep up with the daily business.
But, I am back! I have a camera full of haunting images and a few great stories that I promise to tell you tomorrow. In the meantime I must go perform the “dad” part of Scarydad and put my #1 minion to bed. Enjoy this picture of a skeleton breaking out of a coffin and say a few prayers. You will need them when I return tomorrow.
Many years ago, Bride of Scarydad surprised me with an impromptu birthday trip to the Crescent City. It was the first time I had ever been, which is pathetic since I live less than 300 miles away. Ever the fan of things dark and mysterious, and even more so a fan of booze, food, and more booze and food, I couldn’t wait. Here is the story of what happened that time I got drunk in New Orleans.
I ran across this video tonight. I realize there’s a lot of Titanic retrospective stuff out lately with the centennial anniversary, but this one stood out and I was pleasantly surprised. Truly haunting.
It all started back in 2001. I had been looking for a place in the center of town, closer to work and favorite hangouts. My sister had also recently moved to town and we were going to be roommates to try to save some cash. We were having trouble, however, because earlier in the year Tropical Storm Allison came through and flooded the city. Apartments were in short supply while people were having their houses repaired. But, I eventually found a realtor that dealt in independent leasing and she showed us the place.
It was perfect. It was the whole bottom floor of a HUGE duplex built back in the 20’s. The area of Houston I was looking in had been the ultra-rich suburbs when the house was built, and you could tell this had once been very nice digs. It was 1000 square feet with dark hardwood floors and trim, large bedrooms, a butler’s pantry, a dining room, a den, and very high ceilings. It also had a yard with a garage and a huge front patio. All for $825 a month!