Internet, what have you done to our zombies? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Can we not have one thing left unsullied by the Beebs?
Month: September 2012
Attack of the Killer Carpet Monster
I had trouble sleeping again last night. After tossing and turning, shutting the light off, then on, then reading, then lying quietly with my eyes closed, I gave up and decided to get a glass of water.
I went down to the kitchen and flipped on the light.
An impossibly huge carpet monster fell off the wall.
What’s a carpet monster, you say? One of these little bastards, so dubbed in our home due to the fact that they blend perfectly with our carpet, so you could be walking within inches of one and never even know:
Ew ew ew ew EW EW EW.
It would’ve startled you, too, something furry flopping onto the floor then running straight at you. I screamed like an impossibly sissy girl and ran in a rough circle, trying to scare the thing the way it had scared me so it would run away and not touch my feet with its horrible, horrible legs.
It moved like lightning on crack. I was getting ready to propel myself ass-first up onto the counter when it zoomed past, waving at me with its million legs, and hid under the fridge. I was alternately paralyzed with horror and…well. You should know this about me: when I am overtired, like really, really sleep deprived, I get the giggles. The smallest, unfunniest thing will make me laugh until I cry and choke on my own saliva. It’s so sexy, you don’t even know.
So here I am, backed against the counter, and it occurs to me how silly I’m being, and my brain knows this but my body doesn’t give a shit what my brain has to say and I am completely unable to move. I’m stuck there, laughing and shrieking and finally C comes in to check whether I have completely lost my mind.
I manage to cross the room and perch on a bar stool, feet tucked up under me so the thing can’t get them.
C says, “I gotta see this thing.” And what does he do? He gets down on the floor in front of the fridge and tries to lure it out.
The whole time, I’m gigglescreaming uncontrollably and panicking that it’s going to get on him and he’s poking around under there with his bare hands and the whole scene was just not cool.
He never did find it. And I don’t think he believed me when I told him it was the size of a mouse.
To be fair, a house centipede isn’t dangerous. They’re supposedly helpful and eat other bugs or some shit. I don’t care. What I care about is that there’s an unholy creature with a billion legs made of pure hatred running around this house and IT’S ABLE TO CLIMB WALLS. Which means IT COULD FALL ON ME. And EAT MY BRAIN. Totally unacceptable.
How to Feel Miserable as an Artist
By Keri Smith (you might know her from Wreck This Journal)
(via the Facebook page for Some Guy Who Kills People)
Back to the Grind
Ugh, vacation’s over. I’m back to work tomorrow.
Why is it that time spent at work feels so much longer than time spent…well, doing pretty much anything else?
I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t post much about DayJob, having read the horror stories of people fired for same, but suffice it to say I am not looking forward to going back. That bit’s no secret.
My solution to stay sane: I’m reading 168 Hours: You Have More Time Than You Think and really thinking about ways I can still feel like my creative self while I’m going about my day. I’m not far into the book, but already I’m seeing all kinds of small ways I can get more done.
I bought a new charger for my dead netbook, so step one will be committing to writing at lunch. Tried before, didn’t stick with it, but I’ve reevaluated my priorities and I’m ready to give it another go. Besides, I’ll never get anywhere unless I really push myself.
Step two is nerding it up by self-designing new scheduling inserts for my Filofax. It seems I can’t find any that suit me, and I think I need to visually see where my time is going in order to use it better.
There’s got to be some way to get there.
“Scary Baby Costume” (Not What You’d Think)
“Animated Scary Baby Girl in Harness Prop, three Different Audio Tracks. Mouth Moves. Great Costume Accessory. Eyes Light Up. Spins a hundred and eighty Degrees.”
This is fucking fantastic. I wonder if I can claim it as a business expense to promote Annabelle…
(source)
(That Random Capitalization pained me To copy-Paste, by the Way.)
Real Life Horror: Chilling Last Words
Everyone knows about the practice of allowing a death-row inmate their last statement before execution. But what I didn’t know, and you may not either, is that some of these are available for public viewing.
The speeches run the gamut from flat silence — having declined to say anything — to describing the feeling of the lethal injection taking hold immediately before death.
Some excerpts follow below; if you click the names you can find out about the crimes committed. I’ve bolded the bits that really chilled me:
Jerry Bird: “I don’t think so. That’s all. Go ahead. Start things rolling.” (Mouthed “Hi, Mom” to his mother.)
Jesus Romero, Jr.: When his attorney came into the witness room, he said, “Tell Mom I love her.” The attorney said back to him, “I love you, too.”
Jerry Lee Hogue: “Mindy, I’m with you, honey. I do not know why, Mindy, you are doing this, but I will still forgive you. You know he is a murderer. Why don’t you support me? He will do it again. Mindy, you are lucky you are still alive.
Give my love to my family. I love them. Mindy, you can stop this.
O.K., I’m ready.”
Michael McBride: [excerpt] “So, uh, I wanted you to hear me say that and I apologize and for any other grief I have caused you know, including the, ah, what you’re about to witness now. It won’t be very long. As soon as you realize that appear I am falling asleep. I would leave because I won’t be here after that point. I will be dead at that point. It’s irreversible. God bless all of you. Thank you.”
Clark, James: “Uh, I don’t know, Um, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know. (pauses) I didn’t know anybody was there. Howdy.”
Knight, Patrick: [excerpt] “I said I was going to tell a joke. Death has set me free. That’s the biggest joke, I deserve this. And the other joke is I am not Patrick Bryan Knight, and ya’ll can’t stop this execution now. Go ahead, I’m finished. Come on, tell me Lord. I love you Melyssa, take care of that little monster for me.”
John Alba: [excerpt] “Tell, everyone I love them. I’ll be OK. You will too. Remember what asked you. Give my love to the grandchildren. Tell Jake and Mia, Papa Alba loves them. Okay Warden, let’s do it, I love yall. I can taste it already. I am starting to go.”
Steven Woods: “You’re not about to witness an execution, you are about to witness a murder. I am strapped down for something Marcus Rhodes did. I never killed anybody, ever. I love you, Mom. I love you, Tali. This is wrong. This whole thing is wrong. I can’t believe you are going to let Marcus Rhodes walk around free. Justice has let me down. Somebody completely screwed this up. I love you too, Mom. Well Warden, if you are going to murder someone, go ahead and do it. Pull the trigger. It’s coming. I can feel it coming. Goodbye.”
Michael Shapcott’s “Gage and Church: the Undead”
Gage and Church: the Undead (Pet Sematary)
18″ x 24″
Graphite, Acrylic, and Oil on Canvas
I love this, and it turns out I’m not alone: Miko Hughes, the actor who played Gage in Pet Sematary, commented on Shapcott’s blog! (I always wondered what became of little “Gage”. Turns out he ended up hot.)
(via michael-shapcott.com)
Excerpt: “Annabelle”, a Horror Story
I never really loved that child.
I mean, she was an easy birth. And when she got a little older, and I could start putting little bows and ribbons and things on her, she was cute enough.
But I knew right from the start she was evil.
It wasn’t one of those things you could see easily. Hell, I had a hard enough time seeing it myself.
When we’d go out to the market, she’d be sweet as pie. All the old women would come over and tug on those blonde ringlets. They’d caw like ravens and pinch at her cheeks. She’s got these dimples, see, that make the little grannies just about weep with adoration.
I used to tell those biddies they could take her home with them, if they loved her so much. They always giggled from behind their dentures and shook their smiling heads. I wish, just once, that one of them had realized I wasn’t kidding.
I caught the first hints of the demon in her when she’d cry out in the night. Most children, see, they wail. Their little chests suck in all the air they can hold and force it back out, loud as a foghorn through the darkness. Annabelle was different. She hissed. It sounded like a basketful of snakes let loose in her room.
I started turning down the baby monitor. Then I shut it off. Before long, I was closing her door and sleeping with a pillow over my head.
Of course I took her to the doctor; what kind of mother do you think I am? He checked her front and back and upside down and said there wasn’t a damned thing wrong with her. I wanted her to startle at his touch, to cry out so he could hear what I’d heard. She sat there instead, half a hand shoved in her mouth, and the doctor didn’t suspect a thing.
So I bundled her up against the Fall wind and wheeled her back home in her stroller. The strangers we passed all cooed at her. I think that was part of her witchcraft, being able to fool them all like that. They didn’t feel what I felt…
There’s something different about Annabelle. Something unsettling. Something…demonic.
Mommy’s little monster is here.
Annabelle, the newest short horror from Stefanie N Snider
Typewriter Tattoos
I got my Olivetti typewriter tattoo back in January. I would have thought finding other typewriter tattoos would have made mine feel less special. But by contrast, I’ve found some beautiful pieces, each with their own unique take on the classic machine. Now I’m excited to be in such fine company!
The Bloggess’ Haunted Dollhouse
“…I’ve been slowly building a haunted dollhouse for the last eleven years.
…It’s filled with references to horror/fantasy books and movies that made me the possibly-twisted person I am today…”
Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess, is building herself a tiny haunted house. She turns to the tinkering to escape: “This year, however, I’ve been fighting off a bit of depression (which is exactly why I love to make tiny bottles of bezoars or miniature Victorian vampire killing kits, so I can escape from reality when I need to)…” (source)
Fantastic! The tiny Tarot cards melt my heart.
See the rest of the house, including an exterior shot, here.
PS – If you’ve never read The Bloggess, you should probably drop everything you’re presently doing and go there immediately. She’s by far one of my absolute favourite bloggers: try Copernicus or Beyonce the big metal chicken for a good intro.
PPS – This is what a bezoar is. See? Genius.
sniderwriter 
