There's no cure for creepy.

sextingatchurch: h-o-3: A family picnic omg

Sun, 23 Sep 2012 15:50:23 -0400

h-o-3:

A family picnic

omg

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Sun, 09 Sep 2012 21:56:34 -0400

DyingIs an art, like everything else.I do it exceptionally...

Tue, 28 Aug 2012 01:34:25 -0400

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

- Sylvia Plath

On February 10, 1963 Sylvia Plath was found dead of carbon monoxide poisoning in her kitchen. Plath had placed her head in the oven, while the gas was turned on and the pilot light unlit. She was 30.

perma-scowl: In their most famous act, the sisters would dance,...

Mon, 27 Aug 2012 23:37:58 -0400

perma-scowl:

In their most famous act, the sisters would dance, raising their skirts slightly above their knees, and ask the audience, “Would you like to see my pussy?” When they had coaxed the audience into an enthusiastic response, they would raise up their skirts, revealing that each sister was wearing underwear of their own manufacture that had a live kitten secured over the crotch.

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Mon, 27 Aug 2012 03:15:20 -0400

paranormalnight: In most cases, a human-looking being with pure...

Wed, 22 Aug 2012 13:35:24 -0400

paranormalnight:

In most cases, a human-looking being with pure black eyes (including the normally white parts) will approach a person at their home or car, asking to be let in. They usually have a very dry personality, almost no personality at all, unless they are told that they can’t come in, to which they get very agitated. Most people describe a feeling of intense dread and fear when in the presence of these Black Eyed Beings, but they can’t say exactly why. Usually, the Black Eyed Being has very pale or sickly-looking skin, and very dark hair. They are usually men, but not always, and often wear all black or very dark clothes. Not all cases go this way, though. Some people have been approached in public by these beings. One woman reported running into a female Black Eyed Being in a gas station restroom who just stood there and stared her down. The term “Black Eyed Kids” is used very often as a generalization for this phenomenon because of the high number of cases involving children with black eyes. In almost every case, it will be one or two children around ten years of age that ask either for a ride home if someone is in a car, or ask to be let in to a home. They often wear no shoes, and look dirty and disheveled. They are just as devoid of personality as their elder counterparts, until risen to anger when being told no. I’ve spent quite some time doing some intensive research on the topic and a couple of key things strike me as important. I’m not sure exactly what these beings are or where they come from, but in this case, I’m going with my gut to provide some answers.

1. In every case, the Black Eyed People must get permission to enter a home or a car. They cannot come in without an invitation, even if they want to. In one case, a young man reported a girl trying to get in through a doorway but was stopped by some invisible force when he wouldn’t give her permission to enter. Anyone who is familiar with vampire mythology will recognize that the invitation to come in is a classic trait of the vampire.

2. In a couple of the cases, one involving a man and one involving a young boy, the person encountering the Black Eyed Person drove away in their car, only to see the same person on the street two or three different times on the way home. There is no physical way that the Black Eyed Being could have traveled that far that quickly.

3. One of the Black Eyed People was caught on security tapes in an elevator. When the man riding the elevator with him watched the tapes back, he appeared alone in the elevator - no Black Eyed Person to be seen.

4. Almost every story of an encounter with Black Eyed People ends with the person feeling great fear and running away. In a couple of stories, people have had very intense instinctive reactions telling them to not let the being know that it is affecting you. In a sense, these people sense the ‘danger’, but have a ‘fight’ reaction, rather than a ‘flight’ reaction. Either way, it seems best to trust your instincts in these situations.

5. Those who have spoken to them say that they often make reference to not having a home. They seem to be wandering around, looking for… something. I have an eerie feeling that their idea of “home” isn’t a house - it’s a body to live in.

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Tue, 21 Aug 2012 03:33:15 -0400

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Sat, 18 Aug 2012 18:55:03 -0400

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Sat, 18 Aug 2012 13:13:14 -0400

dontforgetofrown: Deformed stillbirths due to Agent Orange...

Sat, 18 Aug 2012 00:25:36 -0400

dontforgetofrown:

Deformed stillbirths due to Agent Orange exposure.

Agent Orange is one of the chemicals that the U.S. sprayed over Vietnams crops during the war. The affects of which we are still seeing today, on U.S. Soldiers as well as the Vietnamese people.

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Sat, 18 Aug 2012 00:21:19 -0400

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Sat, 18 Aug 2012 00:19:41 -0400

bundy-ramirez-dahmer: Electroshock therapy (ECT) is a medical...

Fri, 17 Aug 2012 23:21:34 -0400

bundy-ramirez-dahmer:

Electroshock therapy (ECT) is a medical procedure used to treat mental illness. It consists of short bursts of electricity administered to the patient’s brain. The treatment is also known as electroconvulsive therapy and has been in existence for around 70 years. Electroshock therapy is commonly used to treat severe depression when antidepressant medications have been of no use

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Wed, 15 Aug 2012 23:23:28 -0400

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Wed, 15 Aug 2012 19:15:37 -0400

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Wed, 15 Aug 2012 19:15:17 -0400

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Tue, 14 Aug 2012 03:52:40 -0400

The Child

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 21:20:48 -0400

please-wakeup:

“Thanks so much for this, Rachael,” her Aunt Carol said, slipping in her left earring as they stood in the hallway of her Upper East Side apartment.

“No problem,” Rachael answered. “Really. I had the night off work anyhow.”

“Still–” Carol looked at her niece. “It’s a help. You’ve no idea how long since I’ve been on a date. Single parenting. Not overly recommended.”

“It’ll be fun, Aunt Carol.”

Carol eyed her again, grabbing her coat from the hook and pulling it on.

“Well,” she said, “he’s not got much energy tonight; that’s one bonus. I think he might be coming down with something, but he shouldn’t be much of a handful.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Rachael assured her. “Just you concentrate on your date.”

Carol smiled.

“I’ll try. Thanks again. You’re a lifesaver. See you later.”

The two women hugged and Carol opened up the apartment door, leaving quickly, and then closing it behind her.

The apartment was deadly still after Carol was gone, and the kid, Rachael’s cousin, was making no sound at all in the other room. Weird, she remembered thinking. Aren’t five-year-olds supposed to make noise?

Rachael walked into the open plan living room and found the child.

He was sitting cross-legged on the large curved sofa staring at the blank TV screen, as though intent on his own reflection in the dark glass. Carol hadn’t been kidding when she said the kid was sick. His skin looked pale and his eyes were slightly sunken. Must’ve been a bad dose of childhood flu.

“Hey, sport,” she said. “You okay?”

The child didn’t answer. He just stared ahead into blank space.

“You know, you should say hey when people are talking to you. Makes them like you better.”

Rachael sat down. The kid didn’t move. The room temperature had plummeted.

“Hey, kid.” She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

The kid lunged at her, causing her heart to skip a beat as he desperately threw his arms around her waist, holding her tight and pressing his cold, little face into her chest.

“What’s the matter?”

The child was shaking and whimpering.

“I don’t want it to be like this anymore.” His voice was a throaty croak.

“Like what?” Rachael put her hand protectively on the boy’s back. “You mean being sick?”

The child stopped making noise; his body went rigid, and then he pulled back, slow and deliberate. His eyes fixed themselves on Rachael’s. Deep, black, unhealthy eyes.

“Are you scared?” he said.

Rachael didn’t like the way the kid was looking at her, and the question was more than terrifying in the empty apartment.

“No,” she lied, though the kink in her voice said differently.

“You will be.” The little boy’s voice was sad and hopeless. “Everyone is when they find out.”

Rachael was weak with fright by the time Carol arrived back home. So much so that she could barely ask how the date went, let alone wait to hear that it had sucked big time.

All the route back on the subway Rachael couldn’t help but think about the child: his stark, haunting eyes; his spidery fingers tight on her skin.

When she reached the door of her own apartment the phone inside was ringing violently.

She quickly opened up and came inside, flicking on the light to banish the boy-shaped shadows that hunkered down in every corner.

She answered the call.

“Rachael!”

It was Aunt Carol.

“Hi,” she said, disconcerted as ever. “Everything okay?”

“Listen, Rachael,” Carol said. “Tonight really scared Sammy and I’m a little worried…”

“I know,” Rachael said. “He was really frightened all night. I tried to talk to him, but…”

“No, Rachael, you don’t understand.” Carol sounded adamant. “Sammy was in his bedroom. He said when you came into the apartment you sat down on the sofa and…he said he heard you talking to another kid…a kid that wasn’t even in the room.”

(submitted by lovetpom)

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Mon, 13 Aug 2012 13:41:28 -0400

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Thu, 09 Aug 2012 22:00:07 -0400