Creepy!
Smash Monkey asks: "what's the creepiest thing you've seen, heard or felt? What has sent shivers running up your spine and skidmarks running up your undercrackers? Tell us, we'll make it all better"
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 13:57)
Smash Monkey asks: "what's the creepiest thing you've seen, heard or felt? What has sent shivers running up your spine and skidmarks running up your undercrackers? Tell us, we'll make it all better"
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 13:57)
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Devil dog
I've not often partaken of the jazz cigarette since uni - but at a get-together with the old crowd, disgusting quanities of drink were imbibed, and it seemed like a good idea to relive past glories. All was well with the world.
Until I got home, and let the dogs out. Standing outside, breathing the fresh air, enjoying the light, misty rain and trying to sober up a bit, I saw something staring at me from within the hedges at the top of the garden. Baleful, unblinking, it neither moved nor made a sound. Just those huge, wideset eyes, reflecting the light of the moon, full of malevolent, silent menace.
As silently and quickly as I was able, I got the dogs back into the house and shakily wondered what I should do. The garden's fenced all around - so whatever got in would struggle to get out, and I couldn't keep the dogs inside forever. But the *size* of the thing - my initial htoughts had been maybe a stray pitbull, or English terrier - but the eyes were too wide, too large for that. Half-remembered stories of big cat sightings arose unbidden in my mind, and were hurriedly pushed back down.
Drunken wisdom allowed for only one course of action. Nervously, heart beating quicker than it had any right to, I put on a heavy jacket, grabbed a hammer and a fishing knife, and slowly crept up the garden, away from the comforting lights of the house, into the stygian gloom.
Still, it did not move. Still, it did not blink. Its steely basilisk gaze never left mine, and seemed to turn my muscles to cold stone. Forcing myself forwards, I edged further into the dark, into the hedges, to meet my adversary face to face.
And that's more or less how I ended up pissed, stoned, and scared, at the top of my garden, at three in the morning, in the rain, menacing two knot-holes in the fence lit from behind by the security light on a granny flat.
:(
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 14:28, 5 replies)
I've not often partaken of the jazz cigarette since uni - but at a get-together with the old crowd, disgusting quanities of drink were imbibed, and it seemed like a good idea to relive past glories. All was well with the world.
Until I got home, and let the dogs out. Standing outside, breathing the fresh air, enjoying the light, misty rain and trying to sober up a bit, I saw something staring at me from within the hedges at the top of the garden. Baleful, unblinking, it neither moved nor made a sound. Just those huge, wideset eyes, reflecting the light of the moon, full of malevolent, silent menace.
As silently and quickly as I was able, I got the dogs back into the house and shakily wondered what I should do. The garden's fenced all around - so whatever got in would struggle to get out, and I couldn't keep the dogs inside forever. But the *size* of the thing - my initial htoughts had been maybe a stray pitbull, or English terrier - but the eyes were too wide, too large for that. Half-remembered stories of big cat sightings arose unbidden in my mind, and were hurriedly pushed back down.
Drunken wisdom allowed for only one course of action. Nervously, heart beating quicker than it had any right to, I put on a heavy jacket, grabbed a hammer and a fishing knife, and slowly crept up the garden, away from the comforting lights of the house, into the stygian gloom.
Still, it did not move. Still, it did not blink. Its steely basilisk gaze never left mine, and seemed to turn my muscles to cold stone. Forcing myself forwards, I edged further into the dark, into the hedges, to meet my adversary face to face.
And that's more or less how I ended up pissed, stoned, and scared, at the top of my garden, at three in the morning, in the rain, menacing two knot-holes in the fence lit from behind by the security light on a granny flat.
:(
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 14:28, 5 replies)
Aye
I wonder what it would look like with the Hound of the Baskervilles shopped onto it??! :O
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 16:00, closed)
I wonder what it would look like with the Hound of the Baskervilles shopped onto it??! :O
( , Thu 7 Apr 2011, 16:00, closed)
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