Boooooooooo.......

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A better history of English

Last one was a bit confusing. Click to enlarge.

Language family tree

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Time for a swim?

 

In New South Wales lies the Hawkesbury River, home to one of Australia’s strangest cryptids.  The beast, known simply as the Hawkesbury River Monster, is a kind of aquatic lizard, much like the Loch Ness Monster of Scotland.  Descriptions of the creature liken it to the prehistoric plesiosaur, extinct for 70 million years. 

Sightings report that it is between 7 and 24 meters long.  It supposedly has two sets of flippers and a lengthy, snakelike neck and head.  The monster was first heard of by settlers in the 1800s, although there is Aboriginal rock art over 3-4000 years old in the area that describes the creature.  The settlers were told stories by the Aboriginals of woman and children being attacked by the moolyewonk or mirreeular, both of them Aboriginal names for the monster that lurks in the river. 

Much like its Scottish cousin, the Hawkesbury River Monster has gained significant attention from the scientific world.  Many hunters and crytozoologists have spent decades trying to locate and/or catch the monster. There have been hundreds of reported sightings, so the odds are the monster hunters will be scouring the area for many years to come.

Yara-ma-yha-who

 

In Aboriginal cultures, the yara-ma-yha-who was a little red man, about 4 feet tall, with a large head and mouth. He had no teeth and swallowed his food whole. The tips of the fingers and toes were shaped like the suckers of an octopus.

These creatures lived at the tops of wild fig trees and would capture their prey by dropping on unsuspecting passers-by who sought shelter in the tree. When a person camped below a fig tree, a yara-ma-yha-who might jump on top of the person and drain their blood with their hands and feet. Their victims rarely died from the initial encounter, but because the person was left in a weak and helpless state, the yara-ma-yha-who would return later and swallow the victim. It then drank water and took a nap. When it awoke, it would regurgitate the undigested portion of its meal, which, if the meal was a person, that person would still be alive.

Children were told that if they were unfortunate enough to meet a yara-ma-yha-who, they should offer no resistance, as their chances of survival would be better if they let the creature swallow them. If a person was captured on several different occasions, they would grow shorter with each occasion until they were the same size as a yara-ma-yha-who and they would grow hair all over their body. Eventually they would become a yara-ma-yha-who themselves.

No good deed goes unpunished

"No good deed goes unpunished"

 

An article I read in the news today reminded me of this proverb. It was a about a man who used an AED to save a woman's life but was then called a pervert for taking her shirt off to use the device safely and correctly. This is exactly why people are scared to help others nowadays.

Prisoners

While it was not at all a horror movie "Prisoners" is a good film for this creepy time of year. It is a mystery story about two little girls that get kidnapped. It looks at what is right and wrong, and how far someone would go to protect their children. Real people are much more scary than monsters.

4/5

I would have given it 5/5 but there are a few holes in the story.

Lame Pun Coon Returns!!!!!

Worst...?

Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.

PUN!

I tried to catch some fog, but I mist!

Yeeees?

 When I was a child my family moved to a big old two-floor house, with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening when I came home the house was still dark. I called out, “Mum?” and heard her sing song voice say “Yeeeeees?” from upstairs. I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in, and again got the same “Yeeeeees?” reply. We were decorating at the time, and I didn’t know my way around the maze of rooms but she was in one of the far ones, right down the hall. I felt uneasy, but I figured that was only natural so I rushed forward to see my mum, knowing that her presence would calm my fears, as a mother’s presence always does. Just as I reached for the handle of the door to let myself in to the room I heard the front door downstairs open and my mother call “Sweetie, are you home?” in a cheery voice. I jumped back, startled and ran down the stairs to her, but as I glanced back from the top of the stairs, the door to the room slowly opened a crack. For a brief moment, I saw something strange in there, and I don’t know what it was, but it was staring at me.

Eyes in the dark

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HA!

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Smile for me

 

I have a beautiful smile. Oh, how I miss it. This morning, I wake up and I smile at my bedroom mirror. I am disappointed at what I see. I kiss my husband, I send my two children off to school. I entertain guest friends. I show them all my lovely smile. But I look in the mirror and I do not see it.
“Are you ready?” Harry calls from the parlor.
“Yes, my love.” I reply as I clasp a string of polished pearls around my neck.
“Oh fantastic, the children are with Mrs. Knox, and the dinner reservations are all set for eight o’clock sharp.” Harry beams as he enters our bedroom. He crosses over to me and puts his arms around my waist and tells me how darling I look tonight.
I embrace him warmly. But suddenly I feel his arms stiffen.
“V-Vivian?” Harry stutters.
“Yes, dear?” I answer sweetly.
In horror Harry raises a shaking finger over my shoulder and points at the old full length mirror against the wall.
“Your reflection… it can’t be… is it staring at us?!”
I turn and see her there, gazing intently. She throws herself against the mirror. There is no sound, only deafening silence. Harry, help me! she mouths as she batters the surface with her fists.
I feel my eyes narrow at her. Harry looks back and forth between myself and my abhorrently perverse reflection.
My limbs begin to elongate and dear Harry’s blue eyes widen. He shrieks and struggles as I grasp him. My jaw detaches. My face contorts and splits open at my mouth, my teeth like shined and piercing knives.
Vivian claws at the mirror. She beats against it as I devour her hapless husband.
Perhaps now she will learn to smile for me.

A bad dream

“Daddy, I had a bad dream.”
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it’s 3:23.
“Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?”
“No, Daddy.”
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter’s pale form in the darkness of your room.
“Why not sweetie?”
“Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up.”
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can’t take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.

Creepy Pasta

Coffins used to be built with holes in them, attached to six feet of copper tubing and a bell. The tubing would allow air for victims buried under the mistaken impression they were dead. In a certain small town, Harold, the local gravedigger, upon hearing a bell one night, went to go see if it was children pretending to be spirits. Sometimes it was also the wind. This time, it wasn't either. A voice from below begged and pleaded to be unburied.

"Are you Sarah O'Bannon?" Harold asked.

"Yes!" The muffled voice asserted.

"You were born on September 17, 1827?"

"Yes!"

"The gravestone here says you died on February 20, 1857."

"No, I'm alive, it was a mistake! Dig me up, set me free!"

"Sorry about this, ma'am," Harold said, stepping on the bell to silence it and plugging up the copper tube with dirt.

"But this is August. Whatever you are down there, you sure as Hell ain't alive no more, and you ain't comin' up."

Stairs

My house is old. It’s by far the oldest house on our block. We tried to liven it up, to make it comfy, and and we did a pretty good job. We put colorful rugs on the freezing concrete, lamps in every corner. Every room was nice and modern-except the basement.

When I was a little kid, I would sprint up the stairs coming up from the basement. I don’t know what I was afraid of. Maybe a ghost, or a monster in the dark behind me, waiting for me to turn around so it can catch me and… I don’t know what it would do.

But now, as a seventeen year old boy, I’m walking up the stairs from my basement, and my childish fears, long repressed, are coming back. I tell myself to shut up, but that dark part in the back of my head tells me to run, to get out NOW. More than anything I want to rocket up those stairs as I did as a child, but I force my feet to take even, normal steps. I feel the overwhelming urge to look behind me, but I also want to win the battle of paranoia that’s going on in my brain.

So I slowly walk up the seemingly endless staircase, my palms sweating and my heart racing the entire way. But about ten steps from the top, I feel an ice cold hand close around my ankle.

This is Hawaiian Food!

For most people, when you think of Hawaiian food, they will answer, "Loco Moco!"  It is Hawaiian food, but not your traditional Hawaiian food.  I believe Loco Moco was first introduced in Hawaii around 1949.  So this dish is fairly new to Hawaii, but a local favorite.  But, I will introduce a few "real" Hawaiian dishes from a long time before the loco moco:

1.  Poi

It is a sticky paste made from crushing taro root.  It is crushed using a poi pounder while adding water until it is mushy and gooey.  This has been the staple for Hawaiians from about 200 AD to 500 AD.  It is not as common nowadays, but many still enjoy this sour tasting goop. 

2.  Lomi Lomi Salmon

Lomi means "to massage" in Hawaiian, and that is how this dish is prepared.  We take diced raw cured salmon, tomatoes, onions, and some hot peppers, and mix everything as if you were massaging it.  This dish probably started from around the 1700s, when whalers and merchants brought salted fish, tomatoes, and onions to Hawaii.

3.  Lau Lau

Lau lau means "leaf leaf" in Hawaiian and it has this name because it is wrapped in ti leaves and taro leaves.  The outer most layer is ti leaves, which you do not eat.  The next layer is taro leaves, which you can eat.  And inside you will find pork, fish, and vegetables.  It is cooked in an underground rock oven called an imu. 

4.  Kalua Pig

Kalua means "to bake in an underground oven."  Therefore, this dish is also cooked in the imu and wrapped with ti leaves to keep the meat flavor in. 

5.  Chicken Longrice

This is a combination of chicken and clear mung bean noodles called, "longrice."  It is cooked in a gingery chicken broth.  Polynesians brought chicken to Hawaii in the mid to late 1800s and Chinese laborers knew to use the chickens to make a delicious soup. 

6.  Poke

The correct pronunciation for this dish is "Pokay."  Basically, (P + Okay) by adding a "p" sound before "okay" will do the trick.  It is raw tuna cut into bite size chunks and flavored with Hawaiian salt, green and white onions, chili pepper, soy sauce, and sesame oil.  There are many different ways to make this tasty dish. 

7.  Haupia

It is a coconut pudding-like dessert.  It has a sweet coconut flavor and a smooth texture.  Traditionally it was made by mixing coconut cream with Polynesian arrowroot, then wrapping it with ti leaves, and baking it in the imu.  Now, it is made by boiling coconut milk with a bit of sugar, then adding cornstarch to thicken it, and finally putting it in the refrigerator to let it cool down. 

Now these are just a few dishes that I have shared with you.  There are many more dishes, so when you go to Hawaii, give these dishes a try!

The window

I was in my bedroom, doing the typical at-home teenager thing: staying up late, digging around the depths of the internet, and generally not paying attention to anything other than what was on my monitor. It was the early morning, around 2 o’clock, and everyone in my house was asleep but me. The room was nice and warm despite it being the dead of winter, since we had the windows replaced last week. We had been losing heat, especially in my bedroom, through some old storm windows, but the bitter cold was now kept outside.

I don’t remember what I was doing; I think in the terror that consumed me I must have forgotten. I heard a noise at my window. Not the sound of a bug flying into it, or the shrubs brushing against it. No, this was an odd noise, a thumping sound, something I had never heard before. I didn’t think anything of it initially. Whether that was because I genuinely believed it was nothing or because I didn’t want to find out what it was, I can’t say, but I sat there for a moment and just listened to it. It was distinctly rhythmic. Thump, thump, thump. It only lasted fifteen seconds or so, and then stopped. I shuddered, but shrugged it off and, after spending another hour or two browsing and consciously not looking toward the window, turned my computer off and fell into an uneasy but uneventful sleep.

This morning, after the sun had been up for a few hours and the things that go bump in the night were doing whatever they do during the daylight hours, I walked to my window and spent a few minutes trying to replicate the sound I had heard. I tapped the window, bumped it with some soft objects, even locked and unlocked it, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what had made the sound. Nothing I did was even close. I figured that the event had been a fluke, and the day was normal until this evening.

My dad arrived home from work at the usual time and decided that the house was too stuffy, so he came into my room and went to open the window (we’re in Texas, so winter evenings are sometimes very comfortable, as was the case today). Never in my life before that moment have I genuinely wished to be deaf.

My dad forgot to unlock the window before trying to open it, and when he pulled up, it produced the same noise I heard last night.

My window only has handles on the inside.