This is the man you must fight at the gates of Valhalla to prove you’re worthy of that mighty hall
It somehow gets crazier. this teenager trained for months. he staged fights in his parents’ swimming pool to train for this epic match. he choose halloween night for the final showdown. and it was for a school project. he could have chosen any seafood, but he decided on, in his own words, “that big fucking octopus.” magnificent bastard.
Y’all missed the part where he dragged it ashore and divers saw him, got upset and sent some pretty rough stuff to his family. Then, at the Washington Fish and Wildlife meeting, he showed up and was like “yeah, it should be protected.”
Except that the giant pacific octopus is nowhere near extinct and actually doing just fine.
So not only did he wrestle, kill, and eat a giant octopus– he got it protected from hunting in several locations even though the species doesn’t need protecting.
Fucking legendary indeed.
So the only person they need protection from is this guy.
…what sort of school project requires you to wrestle sea life?
That’s just how Washington is
to be clear, the school project was to “draw something from nature.” nobody asked him to wrestle an octopus.
…now, I have misunderstood the spirit of a lot of art projects before but
So we decided to buy a creepy doll and casually move it and place it around my house in ways my 13 year old son will notice and start to believe it’s haunted. He’s going to be the only victim because it’s a fellow trickster, and truly appreciates this sort of thing. The best part is the whole family is in on it I’ll keep you all updated.
For anyone who thinks I’m a horrible mean parent for this, trust me
He deserves this
OKAY SO WE FINALLY HAVE AN UPDATE.
So we’ve been moving it just slightly to wear he sort of questions his mind a little bit like “wait wasn’t that…” So I’ll have it facing forward on my desk and I’ll ask him to grab something off it and then when I ask him to put it back it’s facing the wall (my husband will move it quickly while everyone else stays in the living room). We’ve been doing stuff like this for WEEKS and honestly we thought maybe he didn’t realize notice. Well last night we figured it’s been going on long enough that maybe it’s time to be a bit more extreme. So I can in and set the doll on his brothers bed which is opposite of his. He was on his computer back facing and I came in to ask him about laundry. I left and shut the door and car back to talk about something else and pretended to be surprised by seeing the doll in his room, and knowing he has been the only one in here for the last few hours I asked,” why is my doll in your room! I told you it’s old and it’s really special to me, I’m getting tired of you guys messing with it”
Here’s the rest of the convo
Son: what!!! It wasn’t me I swear!! I swear! I SWEAR!
Me: no one else has been in this room, they’ve been in the living room for hours and I just saw the doll on my desk less than an hour ago. If you’re gonna play pranks that’s fine but do it with something that isn’t valuable or sentimental please. (I leave the room to my bedroom taking the doll with me and setting it on my desk)
Son: MOM. LISTEN I SWEAR IT WASNT ME! MOM. LOOK AT ME. MOM. I SWEAR!! (He’s standing in my doorway)
Me: If you didn’t move it, who did? Me??
Son: MOM. I SWEAR. I SWEAR!!! That doll is so creepy! ITS A DEMON DOLL MOM! MOM. LOOK AT IT. ITS A REAL DEMON DOLL WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT?!!!
Me: I told you I bought it at goodwill because I had the same one as a kid. You know how I had to leave everything behind as a kid. It’s special to me.
Son: GOODWILL? Mom!!! THAT IS HOW YOU BUY DEMONS. ITS A DEMON.
Me: stop seriously I need to lay down and you need to put your clothes away
Son: MOM. I SWEAR. You told me that if anything wierd ever happened to me you would believe me! You said you wouldn’t be like the idiot parents in movies that don’t believe their kids when they see dead people or ghosts or whatever!!! This is like happening in real life!!!
Me: I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I’m just to tired for this. I need to get some rest we will talk about it later.
Son: MOM. I SWEAR.
Me: Ok ok I get it. Talk later?
Son: you’re being so weird I’m being totally serious mom
Me: I said I believe you now go do your laundry
Son: please get rid of the demon doll mom it’s going to kill you while your sleeping seriously
(Me shutting the door pushing him out)
Me: alright alright stop working yourself up. LAUNDRY.
(6/6) “I was given the opportunity to visit Rwanda as part of my internship with the US Senate. I was accompanying an important delegation. But they must have thought I was crazy, because when we arrived in Rwanda, I began speaking to people in the streets. I was convinced that everyone looked like me. I wanted to find members of my family. I wanted to see my old school. I wanted to find my old house. But all I could remember was the location of my grandmother’s house because it had been so close to the airport. So that’s where we went. We knocked on the door. I didn’t reveal my identity. When I asked the current resident if he knew about me, he told me that I had been killed. But then he said that some of my family was still alive. He told us that my sister was working at a nearby market. So we decided to drive there. The sun was going down. At this point I was sure that I’d lost my mind. Because we drove by a playground, and I saw a little boy that looked exactly like me. I even took his photo. I had no idea that he was my brother. When we arrived at the market, it was almost completely dark. But I saw my sister. And she saw me. She recognized me immediately because of the scar on my forehead. Our brother had given me this scar when we were toddlers. He didn’t survive the genocide. When my sister saw me, we embraced. We both started crying. And she told me everything that happened while I was gone. And I won’t share the details, because those aren’t my stories to tell. But she gave me the biggest news of all. I remember picking up the phone, and immediately calling Anne Peterson. I told her: ‘Mom, you’re not going to believe this. But I just found my mother.’” (Kigali, Rwanda) ———————————————– If you are wondering why Nyanja is back in Rwanda, it’s because she has founded an organization called Little Hills, which aims to improve health services for children in Rwanda. Her ultimate goal is to build a children’s hospital. She’s created a small fundraiser, which I’ve kicked off with a $5,000 donation from the HONY Patreon. If you’d like to empower Nyanja in the next phase of her life, and help improve healthcare for children in Rwanda, you may do so here: https://bit.ly/2PR1BXN
Mark the electrician has been here for five minutes and he’s already said “well that’s…weird” twice from the other room and frankly I’m afraid to ask.
It’s not good when skilled tradesman are standing in the middle of your room pinching the bridge if their nose, is it?
Mark just referred to the wiring in our bedroom as “creative” and “interesting”.
This is fine.
And now he’s taking apart the ceiling. I’m not worried, are any of you worried? I’m not, haha, it’s not like this house was previously owned by someone who would do something stupid like try to wire their house themselves…or store tins of varnish under the furnace behind a secret alcove…
Ha ha…
Ha.
Hm.
Fuck.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO NEUTRAL WIRES??!?
WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S GROUNDED INTO THE SCREWS HOLDING UP THE CEILING LIGHT???!?!!
This post crosses my dashboard every so often and every time, I’m reminded of when I discovered that my whole house was grounded to a gas line.
Today I learned that Van Halen have that rider in their contract about “a bowl of M&Ms with all the brown ones removed” in order to know at a glance if the promoter read the entire contract. And the reason they do THAT is because they once had a stage collapse because a promoter hadn’t read the proper way to set up all the specific technical stuff.
So if the band goes in the dressing room or catering and sees brown M&Ms, they know they have to double-check the stage setup for safety.
I heard about this on Freakonomics Radio. Turns out the bit about no brown M&Ms is HUGE, in BIG font, bold, underlined and quotated like they’re on the Group W Bench.
The band was all, “We have fifty-pound lights hanging over our heads and fire being shot out of cannons. We had to know whether they read our safety regs so we didn’t flamebroil any roadies.”
interesting how this has become a meme in the music industry about divas. i’ve always heard jokes that amount to “this stuck up celebrity hates the green gummy bears!! they’re refusing to perform just for that???” and its reading stuff like this that i realise how that joke might have come about. people get grumpy that the band refuses to play but cant admit its because THEY’RE incompetent, so they make it all about the M&Ms. another example of artists using a creative method to ensure they have a perfectly reasonable request fulfilled that is then bastardised by lazy people who wanna make money off them.
So i went on a date to a haunted house and made friends with the girls behind us. As we’re going through, one of them is holding my hand and a guy leaps out and separates us. I panic as my date is pulling me along, I reach back for her and grab her hand in a group of three other performers and start getting out if there. After a bit I look back to check on her and I discover I’m holding the hand of a six foot tall zombie creature and not a 5’2" girl.
Cue the most terrifying realization of my life.
I had basically kidnapped this performer from his section and abandoned the girl and her friend behind us.
Yes, I screamed. My date thought it was Hilarious.
Yes, we found the girls. Turns out when I grabbed the performers hand, he grabbed theirs so our group wouldn’t be separated. So there was just this zombie in the middle of our group line for like fifty feet
After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”
Wide Spread Interests 