I forgot to do a spooky picture yesterday, but Smiley reminded me at lunch.
Legendary bluesman Robert Johnson sometimes didn’t have a pot to piss in when he was alive, but he’s got three graves in death. In this jar is dirt from all of them.
I forgot to do a spooky picture yesterday, but Smiley reminded me at lunch.
Legendary bluesman Robert Johnson sometimes didn’t have a pot to piss in when he was alive, but he’s got three graves in death. In this jar is dirt from all of them.
Tiny Cat Pants 
That is wicked cool. You’re on for the road trip with me and Hutchmo. I’m the kinda guy who drove an hour out of the way to see the run down set where they shot the radio station scenes in "Oh Brother Where Art Thou." We once planned a spring break trip from "Tuscon to Tucamcari, Tehachapi to Tonopah", but never got to pull it off. Three Robert Johnson grave visits sounds like a party to me.
I would pay good money to go on a road trip with you and Hutchmo. That would be awesome. It’s only six hours to Greenwood, so y’all just let me know.
Well, there’s all manner of lesser imps and demons, Pete, but the great Satan hisself is red and scaly with a bifurcated tail, and he carries a hay fork.
Had I known that a roadtrip was being planned, I would have offered the more appropriate line:"Ya’ll goin’ past Tishomingo?"
Aunt B, I have to say that I am immensely enjoying the daily scary picture post, but I was thinking last night… You said you’d told all of your scary stories, but… I don’t remember. Did you tell that story of the dead kid and the haunted balls? That one’s my favorite. I always try to tell it and I get it wrong.
The dead kid and the haunted balls… Are you sure that’s my story? Because I don’t remember it. When did I tell it to you?
Hmm…. I was almost certain that you were the one that told it to me. Long ago. I’m going to get it wrong if I try to tell it… This child ghost kept wanting to play? Balls randomly bouncing down stairs after his death? Ring any bells? Seems like he twisted himself up on a swing set and choked himself… Or a tire swing. That’s how he died.
Oh my god! I have chills just reading that. But no, it wasn’t me. Ghost children wanting to play… blergh… that’s some creepy stuff.
I get chills because I can picture you telling it to me! The ghost story inside the ghost story. Ok. I’ll try to tell it.So, this lovely little couple had a little boy that they loved with all their might. They built him a swing set in the back yard. He would swing and swing. One day he was out back swinging and he twisted himself up too tight and choked himself to death. He was 5-years-old. The mother and father were devastated. They kept trying to move on with their lives, but they were haunted by the ghost of their dead little boy. They’d be sitting down to dinner and bounce…bounce…bounce…a single ball would come down the steps. They’d be trying to go to bed and hear balls bouncing in his old room. He’d get really feisty at times and throw balls directly at them. The energetic spirit of their little boy just not being able to accept that he couldn’t play with them anymore. It broke their hearts.Eventually they had to move.
Yep, if I knew anyone that that had happened to, I would have never been able to forget it.Not me, but ooo.