Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

EVEN MORE Spookiosity!

Just now got a link from MommaBear to a right scary story in the Lovecraftian tradition, written by her buddy Andrew Ian Dodge (whew):
[...] “We are still a small village here Sage. It’s the middle of winter and he definitely does not look like a local. Make sure we tie him down so he doesn’t wake up with a jolt.”

They carried the young man to the back of the Land Rover and placed him on some padding, while bungieing him down like Gulliver in the back of the vehicle. [...]
OOOOOO!! Chilling!! Count Floyd gives it two fangs up!

(As a note to the other AoW members who want to participate but just don't have enough ectoplasm to make a good story--a proxy submittal is entirely acceptable. Management does reserve the right to insert gratutious "Y'alls", house trailers, and the dipping of snuff in order to Southern things up a bit.)

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