Creepy Kids

Creepy Kids, can’t live with them can’t get rid of them or they’ll sneak into your house and – well, I’ll let your imagination fill in that little blank.

That very dark

weird

 little blank.

This Photo From Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children.

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Come Play With Us

 

 

During their waking hours they terrorize small boys in snowed-in hotels.

 

Lisa & Louise Burns (the twin Grady Girls)

Say, Say my playmate
Say, Say my playmate Come out and play with me And bring your dollies three Climb up my apple tree
Slide down my rain barrel Into my cellar door And we’ll be jolly friends Forever more – more – more !
Say, say oh playmate, I cannot play with you. My dolly has the flu, Boohoo, hoohoo, hoo, hoo.
Ain’t got no rain barrel, Ain’t got no cellar door. But we’ll be jolly friends, Forever more – more – more – more – more!!

 

You Don’t Know What Scary Is Cupcake

Every once and awhile I get a hardcore horror porn /torture porn reader show up read a story and leave me a message that in part reads:

This isn’t scary and you suck.

Here’s the 411.

I didn’t ask for permission to write or tell stories so I honestly do not care if somebody thinks I suck or not.

Next- I’ve heard this from my Politically active friends who Facebook and leave comments on blogs- it’s freedom of speech so you have to allow people to firebomb your comment section.

Actually your freedom of speech does not extend to other people’s blogs or Facebook pages, so you know, F%$# you. I don’t have to publish a word you say. I once had a person with a permit to carry a gun try to spook me on my other blog and not only did I NOT publish his comments I turned him into the FBI…the agent I talked to was very nice and wore a faded Aloha shirt. We met in a Starbucks and I drank a smoothie and he had a coffee.

As to what I find scary.

Well, I helped rebuild a human face on my second day of Mortuary work, watched my nephew die from a neurological disease that I would not wish on my worst enemy ( you lucky bastards ) and a few years ago my 17 year old cat died in my arms while looking straight into my eyes and as he did that I took in his dieing breath.

I didn’t mind that- and I still don’t but in general when I tell people I may have taken my cat’s soul into my body when he died they freak out.

Keep these things in mind my little Morbid Cupcakes- I don’t scare easy if at all – and you do.

You proved it when you sat down and desperately tried to redesign  reality to fit into your comfort zone

 on a blog post.

So in closing may I add:

HA HA HA.

Sucks to be you.