:::whew:::
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impossible to find a frankenstein recipe online that doesn’t start with a freakin novel about the guy’s early life in geneva… just gimme the ingredients and method
— reallyreallyreallytrying
GOD [inventing Dracula]:
ANGEL: Wh-what are you doing that for?
GOD: Shut up this is going to rock
— ActualLiam
Why is it that the 3 main types of monger are war, fear, and fish. What did fish do to deserve this
— _AlexHirsch
during october vampires are at their most powerful. they don’t physically get stronger it’s just a pleasant confidence boost.
— moonlandingwasfaked
Latin declensiouns and
Bookes yn libraryes,
Cafés with décor from
Storyes full scarye,
Long midnighte talkes about
Cool goblin kynges:
Thes ben a fewe of my favourite thinges.
— LeVostreGC (Chaucer Doth Tweet)
starbucks barista: I need a name for your latte
frankenstein’s monster: [long pause]
— AbbieEvansXO
If you see a kid sitting alone on a pier and soft music starts, you’re legally required to sit down and say “Hey sport – what’s wrong?”
— TheThomason
So disappointed. I was convinced my dog possessed an uncanny instinct for knowing when thunderstorms are coming, but it turns out she’s simply been checking the BBC Weather app on her iPad all this time.
— thewritertype
No one ever talks about how an oubliette implies the existence of a larger, and far more terrifying, oobly.
— Brainmage
If I am ever swept off my feet by a dashing widower and he takes me home to his ancient family estate, my first acts will be to move all his former wife’s stuff to a hermetically sealed storage unit and ask all household staff to submit to a biannual psychiatric evaluation.
Also I will oversee the installation of numerous safety rails.
And a modern fire suppression system. Fuck the Historical Society of Lesser Wibblesby or wherever, ain’t no Great Hall burning down on MY watch.
All family members, staff, and guests will be strongly advised to tie long hair back and forbidden to wear anything drapey or flowing after 8 P.M. Any guest not arriving with a modern pyjamas will be issued a set, ideally with a pattern of moose wearing Santa hats or something.
I will carry a screwdriver and a pocket knife. Doors that stick or lock behind me get one strike. Don’t think I won’t take you off your hinges, bitch, I’ve done it before.
In fact, an awful lot of problems could be avoided just by making sure everybody has some DIY skills.
Four words: battery-operated LED lanterns.
Dashing Widower Hubs gets exactly one cryptic utterance before we go to couples counseling. It’s in the prenup. Also, my will, which I will file with a lawyer under the age of 40, will stipulate that if I predecease Hubs, everything in my name is left to the Humane Society.
In the unlikely event that I start renovating and find suspicious bones, shackles, etc., we will seal that shit right back up and go to a hotel for the evening.
A young priest and an old priest will be in my contacts on speed dial.
Regarding relics: anything from foreign lands with a mysterious provenance will be promptly offered back to the country of origin. If they don’t want it, it goes to the British Museum by courier; their karma’s bad enough and Hubs and I can use the tax writeoff.
Anything that seems to be part of a local legend will be left STRICTLY in place. I’m not taking a chance on pissing off the Morrígan because I just had to move the rock garden. All such items will be clearly denoted by a tasteful but highly visible historical marker.
“Oh, that? Grandfather used to say it belonged to Morgana le Fay. Silly, what? Everyone knows these old legends are rubbish and it’s probably a ninteteenth-century repr… Darling? Darling, what are you doing? …Did you have those chainmail gloves and fireplace tongs ON you or
Cabinet of Curiosities? I think you mean CabiNOT of Curiosities, especially if there’s one thing that seems extraordinarily out of place, seems to have a component of polished bone/hair/mysterious reddish stains, or is preserved in formaldehyde and has tentacles.
The portraits of Dashing Hubs’ ancestors are truly remarkable works. They should probably be in a museum rather than lining the staircase. Don’t worry, dear, we’ve got an art budget and in a hundred years, our descendants will be thrilled to show everyone the breathtaking Rothko.
Speaking of the descendants, in case Hubs and I die tragically whilst Abroad, then along with the keys to the manor on their 21st birthday, our children will be provided with hardcopy house inventories and the abovementioned psychological profiles of the staff immediately.
Speaking of which, Hypothetical Descendant, I promise to believe me when you tell me you see someone who isn’t there, particularly if you draw unsettling and surprisingly consistent pictures of them. Also, maybe once a year we’re gonna splash a lil holy water on you just in case.
I don’t wanna be ageist here but why exactly is the Manor employing staff over 70? I get that this is their home and we’re not evicting them just because they’ve got cataracts or missing teeth but we really need to hire someone physically fit enough to maintain the boat house.
Also, two words: WELL COVER.
Climbing vines covering more than about 10 square feet will be killed with fire.
If the lights go out, the first words out of my mouth won’t be, “I’ll go check the fusebox.” They will be [to my fully charged cell phone], “Siri, play Sir Mix-a-Lot.”
No self-respecting ghost or axe murderer is gonna kill someone while the mood music is Sir Mix-a-Lot.
— lasrina
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The author is auctioning off a tea date for charity. You can read the details here.
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It’s time for the annual costume recap! Every year I spend entirely too much time making costumes for Shadowboy and a friend’s nephew, then have professional photos taken. This is the year that made me question that decision.
The friend’s costume was easy. He wanted to be a vampire in the classic mold, and that’s just a hop, skip, and a frilly shirt away. I used Simplicity 4923 for the shirt, Simplicity 4762 for the vest, and McCall’s 4139 for the cape. He supplied the trousers and shoes.
Shadowboy’s was…it was a whole thing.
He wanted a costume that could double as an outfit for RenFaire, and since he has a strong interest in music–and despite playing D&D and supposedly knowing better–he decided that he wanted to be a bard. Rather than trying to put something together piecemeal from several patterns I decided to do the complete set using AlterYears Easy Renaissance Noblemen’s Outfit PAY-038, where “Easy” should be read in the most sarcastic air quotes imaginable.
Y’all. You all. You. Guys. I have been sewing for 40 years. I have made some complicated stuff–hell, I made my own wedding dress. I know my way around a pattern. This pattern sucked. It suuuuuucked. As I tried to work through it I honestly began to suspect some kind of Kinks/Oasis/Ramones situation where the person who drafted the pattern and the person who wrote the instructions absolutely fucking hated each other, to the point where they not only refused to collaborate, they were actively trying to undermine each other. It’s not that the pattern/instructions were unclear, it’s that they were literally wrong. Like, the notes on the pattern pieces might tell you to cut four pieces, but when you followed the instructions you only used two of them. The pattern has different cutting lines for fabric and lining, but the instructions make it clear that they actually should be the same size. The instructions for resizing the pattern for a custom fit very much do not result in a custom fit. Even the suggested width for pleats was wildly inaccurate. The entire exercise was infuriating. If you decide to tackle this pattern–and remember, this is the one labeled “easy”–my suggestions are as follows:
In summary, I paid 40 American dollars for the privilege of having my blood pressure spike and I do not recommend this.
I’m not entirely happy with the result so I’ll probably re-make the whole thing at some point using the lessons painfully learned from this exercise, but it’s good enough for Halloween. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
Anyway!
I decided that he needed a hat, and since he had indicated that he wanted kind of a mismatched look I used some brocade left over from the vampire’s vest and knocked together a hat using McCall’s 4805. I also had enough fabric left over from the doublet and pantaloons to make a short cape, which I did freehand.
The photos turned out reasonably well, so I don’t have to commit Halloween seppuku. Here’s the rest of the set:
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Nightmare Service Dogs – I love this sweet little illustration.
Modern Monster Mash – An update of the perennial favorite, with newer horror characters. (Hat tip to Pixel Pixie)
Chicken Familiar – A scholarly dissertation on which breed of chicken would make the best Therapy Chicken for a wizard.
Our Fake History – “A podcast about myths we think are history and history that might be hidden in myths!” (Hat tip to Bruno)
Short Story Suggestions – Horror writer Cassandra Khaw has a thread of recommended short stories, all of which are excellent.
Calaveras Mittens – Knitting pattern for great-looking skully mittens. I especially love the design on the thumbs.
Absinthe Thread – @spookperson tweets about her adventures in making homemade absinthe.
The God of War – A great response to a writing prompt.
Vampire Pumpkins – This ‘toon about a Serbian superstition puts The Great Pumpkin in a whole new light.
Hex the Patriarchy – Attractive T-shirt with an inspiring message. (Hat tip to Pixel Pixie)
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The Two-Headed Calf
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
— Laura Gilpin
(Found via @ambernoelle)
Update: Adam Ellis illustrated the poem:
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Inestimable cartoonist Gahan Wilson is currently fighting dementia and his wife, author Nancy Winters, passed away on March 2. She was his primary caregiver, and her son has set up a gofundme for Wilson’s memory care.
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acme was just mailing bombs and rockets and shit to a dog
— wyatt_privilege
FIVE STAGES OF FRIENDSHIP
– liking each other’s tweets
– exchanging numbers in the DMs
– hot-air balloon races
– falling in love with the same man and accidentally killing each other in a duel
– haunting the woods together in your finest silk gowns
— SketchesbyBoze
Dracula: do you hear them! the children of the ni…
Me, the familiar: we have the plumber coming at 7 to clean out that castle bathroom pipe that dumps into the sea & please pay him this time bc need I remind you we cant all turn into a bat and shit onto the side of the castle
— griph
You never hear about a new ghost. “Oh yeah, this place is haunted since Jeff died last Tuesday.”
— juliussharpe
[me as a realtor]
the crawl space is probably full of bones already but you can always add more bones yourself
— roboticcrab
I would love to see a Poirot-style murder mystery that pivots into horror halfway through when it is revealed that the train is alive and murdering its own passengers
— jephjacques
can’t wait til i’m a ghost and a dude with a tape recorder asks if there’s anything i’d like to communicate and i get to go “no thank you”
— tarashoe
The thing I remember most about having a pet rock is how one day it just went crazy and attacked my best friend in the back of the head.
— danguterman
PITCH: An anti-Mary Poppins story where a perfectly normal nanny teaches a family of impossibly powerful wizard children to stop being assholes
— mizabitha
“If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. If you bite it and you die it’s poisonous. If you bite it and somebody else dies it’s voodoo. If you bite it and your head hurts it’s probably ice cream.”
I am very informative to live with.
Also: “If you bite it and nobody dies but you’re both into it… I dunno, you’re on your own.”
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Hey, guys and ghouls –
This is just a note to let the half-dozen people who still read this silly blog that I haven’t vanished. I’m in the middle of moving web hosts and all of my databases are in a state of flux. Once things settle back down I’ll get back to posting. Promise!
(In the meantime, there are 12 years’ worth of archived posts. Knock yourselves out.)
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