OKbut they take ages to write and post, so you might be here in the wee early hours... no change for B3tans there then, eh!?
(
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 22:55,
archived)
C'mon then!Get to writing!
(PLEASE???)
((PLEASE???)
Scoopzilla http://www.slapwatch.com now get to fuck,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 22:57,
archived)
well im not going to bed yetyou try sleeping after hearing/reading some of this stuf and remembering that you live on top of a funeral parlor
(
weekendsession,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 22:57,
archived)
believe me,I've been in spookier places... Funeral Palour's are just a passing though point, I think.... I wouldn't worry, unless a tall dark stranger comes to your door - about 7ft, wears a black cloak, carries a knife on a stick, has a grin from ear to ear, and has a strange deep sort of bluish glint to his eyes (well, I say eyes - eye sockets)
Hang on... just getting to another waffle...
(Hang on... just getting to another waffle...
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 23:18,
archived)
My brotherlived about halfway up a tall block of flats - early 80's.
He was a dabbler back then, and dabble he did.
two other of my brothers were staying at the flat one night, when dabbler went into his bedroom... obviously everyone knew it was to dabble.
he'd drawn a pentacle on his bedroom floor, and done all the necessary proceedures only to go a bit on the odd side....
my other two brothers heard banging and yelling and some 'awful bowel wrenching utterances' is what they said. But, dabbler really didn't look at all too well - the colour had drawn from his face and it had a more pronounced boney feature to it, and his eyes looked sunken.
Brother 1 & 2 didn't know anything about this dabbling business, except that perhaps the shaddow of the horns of 'he who walks backward's' does something.? They weren't sure, but they tried.
Dabbler having thrown all things and sundry around the room was only left with a cast iron double bed. Now, Brother 1&2 say that dabbler had lifted this bed up from its head, horizontally, with his two bare hands, and threw it at them breaking the wall and knocking some bits out of it and the bed.
Brother 2 raced up behind dabbler and raised his hand between light and dabblers' head, raising two outtermost fingers to form the horns of he.
Immediately dabbler collapsed to the ground, and fell unconcious.
Nothing more was said about it all. But, it doesn't stop there....
(He was a dabbler back then, and dabble he did.
two other of my brothers were staying at the flat one night, when dabbler went into his bedroom... obviously everyone knew it was to dabble.
he'd drawn a pentacle on his bedroom floor, and done all the necessary proceedures only to go a bit on the odd side....
my other two brothers heard banging and yelling and some 'awful bowel wrenching utterances' is what they said. But, dabbler really didn't look at all too well - the colour had drawn from his face and it had a more pronounced boney feature to it, and his eyes looked sunken.
Brother 1 & 2 didn't know anything about this dabbling business, except that perhaps the shaddow of the horns of 'he who walks backward's' does something.? They weren't sure, but they tried.
Dabbler having thrown all things and sundry around the room was only left with a cast iron double bed. Now, Brother 1&2 say that dabbler had lifted this bed up from its head, horizontally, with his two bare hands, and threw it at them breaking the wall and knocking some bits out of it and the bed.
Brother 2 raced up behind dabbler and raised his hand between light and dabblers' head, raising two outtermost fingers to form the horns of he.
Immediately dabbler collapsed to the ground, and fell unconcious.
Nothing more was said about it all. But, it doesn't stop there....
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 23:30,
archived)
following on from dabbler....after many years of not messing around with the occult, my brother decided to just take it up in a light type of fashion...
He'd moved into my sisters house about 11-12 years ago, and at that time had picked up a copy of the 'Egyptian Book of The Dead'.
My family think that during that time, we'd all been influenced by odd things on thw whole.
Strange things began happening. My sister started suffering from sleep paralysis, and having really strange nightmares about hideous things and events. Things would move, and arguments would start because of it. Odd noises around the house. It was a very disturbing time.
Anyway, my sister was just begining a degree in psychology, and for one of her coursework thingies had interviewed loads of other students, along with kids (including her own), and adults, etc.
Well, it came to the time when my sister was about to transcribe the tape, and eventually came to the children section, especially when she'd recorded her own child in her house - in the living room...
...that day was quite, which was why she chose then to record her kid speaking. Neighbours were out, husband and family were not anywhere, phone unplugged. Thought to be no disturbance whatsoever. There wasn't; not a single sound but the questions and answers...
...the tape didn't seem to agree with the peacefulness of that day. When her child started speaking, another low mumbling sort of utterance, but angry voice was heard in the background. It was bowel wenching, which rings bells in my other waffles!
So, the questions about the tape came... was it a new tape? Yes. Was there any other noises, like kids outside? No. Were there any other things, like central heating coming on, or such? No, it was a hot summer day, and no need to have water/central heating on... infact it was a hot summer so the heating stayed off all that time, save for when the hot tap was run.
It was all very odd. But, there was definately a sound of a voice in the background.. I still get shivers from the thought of it; I can still hear it in my head, and it sounded nothing of this world!
Soon, after hearing that tape, religious help was saught, and nothing more happened.
But, also... we burned that 'Egyptian Book of The Dead', and I tell you now, I've never seen paper or ink burn so violent and pure blue before, or since, then.
(He'd moved into my sisters house about 11-12 years ago, and at that time had picked up a copy of the 'Egyptian Book of The Dead'.
My family think that during that time, we'd all been influenced by odd things on thw whole.
Strange things began happening. My sister started suffering from sleep paralysis, and having really strange nightmares about hideous things and events. Things would move, and arguments would start because of it. Odd noises around the house. It was a very disturbing time.
Anyway, my sister was just begining a degree in psychology, and for one of her coursework thingies had interviewed loads of other students, along with kids (including her own), and adults, etc.
Well, it came to the time when my sister was about to transcribe the tape, and eventually came to the children section, especially when she'd recorded her own child in her house - in the living room...
...that day was quite, which was why she chose then to record her kid speaking. Neighbours were out, husband and family were not anywhere, phone unplugged. Thought to be no disturbance whatsoever. There wasn't; not a single sound but the questions and answers...
...the tape didn't seem to agree with the peacefulness of that day. When her child started speaking, another low mumbling sort of utterance, but angry voice was heard in the background. It was bowel wenching, which rings bells in my other waffles!
So, the questions about the tape came... was it a new tape? Yes. Was there any other noises, like kids outside? No. Were there any other things, like central heating coming on, or such? No, it was a hot summer day, and no need to have water/central heating on... infact it was a hot summer so the heating stayed off all that time, save for when the hot tap was run.
It was all very odd. But, there was definately a sound of a voice in the background.. I still get shivers from the thought of it; I can still hear it in my head, and it sounded nothing of this world!
Soon, after hearing that tape, religious help was saught, and nothing more happened.
But, also... we burned that 'Egyptian Book of The Dead', and I tell you now, I've never seen paper or ink burn so violent and pure blue before, or since, then.
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Mon 27 Oct 2003, 23:49,
archived)
Huh?Like a modern "Let's screw with the Egyptians" edition or "Read off the paparyus, typed up on ink" kind?
(,
Wed 29 Oct 2003, 1:51,
archived)
Another...but probably last for tonight, cos it'll probably take me to 2am....
this goes right back to when I was so yong and tiny that I slept in my parents bed...
I was 2, or nearly 3, and I often slept in my parents bed between the two.
At this time, my dad was working at Manchester University Dental Hospital, and he know quite a few people from there, especially one bloke who went around digging up archaelogical things.
This I am told because I have no memory from that time...
It was one night when I complained about my room, and complaining so much I'd got to sleep in my parents room. Quite happy with this, I'd gone straight to sleep.
Around this time, my dad's friend had come back from a dig on scotlands borders somewhere. He also brought back a sort of decayed finger (apparently huge) with a ring, or some king of jewel/ornament on it. My dad was handed it to see if he could do anything with the ornament, clean it up, remove from finger, etc. My dad being a technician at dental hospital had use of equipment to do so, and it being university equipment didn't really cost much to do.
On this night that I'd kicked up so much fuss about my room was on a day when my dad had brought his work home with him. The finger was in the house, but no only that, it was in his bedroom on the dresser.
That night, my mum and dad had woken up to a huge ginger haired and bearded bloke leaning over the bed from the foot of the bed looking directly at me.
Nothing more has ever been said about this, even though I've asked plenty of times, other than that it didn't happen again. But, my dad did take the finger back to the dental hospital the following day, and had nothing more to do with it.
It's the part at night time I'd like to know more about, considering I was there. Mum and Dad won't budge on saying anything about it though. Not sure why.
(this goes right back to when I was so yong and tiny that I slept in my parents bed...
I was 2, or nearly 3, and I often slept in my parents bed between the two.
At this time, my dad was working at Manchester University Dental Hospital, and he know quite a few people from there, especially one bloke who went around digging up archaelogical things.
This I am told because I have no memory from that time...
It was one night when I complained about my room, and complaining so much I'd got to sleep in my parents room. Quite happy with this, I'd gone straight to sleep.
Around this time, my dad's friend had come back from a dig on scotlands borders somewhere. He also brought back a sort of decayed finger (apparently huge) with a ring, or some king of jewel/ornament on it. My dad was handed it to see if he could do anything with the ornament, clean it up, remove from finger, etc. My dad being a technician at dental hospital had use of equipment to do so, and it being university equipment didn't really cost much to do.
On this night that I'd kicked up so much fuss about my room was on a day when my dad had brought his work home with him. The finger was in the house, but no only that, it was in his bedroom on the dresser.
That night, my mum and dad had woken up to a huge ginger haired and bearded bloke leaning over the bed from the foot of the bed looking directly at me.
Nothing more has ever been said about this, even though I've asked plenty of times, other than that it didn't happen again. But, my dad did take the finger back to the dental hospital the following day, and had nothing more to do with it.
It's the part at night time I'd like to know more about, considering I was there. Mum and Dad won't budge on saying anything about it though. Not sure why.
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Tue 28 Oct 2003, 1:28,
archived)
Right,again, last one for tonight... I'm definately tired...
My next eldest brother was found tied up in a box in his bedroom...
I was 1 year old, so I'm only reitterating. But, it was in one of the most spookiest houses the family have ever lived in... don't mean to sound posh... just a 3 bedroomed house in Collyhurst, M/cr.
My brother had kept complaining about a man coming into the bedroom at night to beat him and knock him about so much that my brother hid under the covers (like kids do).
Brother would always wake up next morning with marks of some kind on him, but him being 5 years old, it was all put down to creepy nightmares and banging into the wall during his sleep.
Until... one particular morning my brother was found tied up in a box. No, this wasn't something he could have done himself because he couldn't tie knots at that time, especially the knots that were used... I wouldn't know the name of them, but I've seen one that my dad made and said that was the type - like it was knotted 3 or 4 times.
And, what makes it more so odd is that he wasn't just tied up and thrown in a box. It was his fingers and toes tied together crossed - left to right, visa versa.
The box was cardboard, it was there after being used to move toys and clothes from the previous house (which odly enough was the one where the dog (almost 10 years earlier) was blamed for chewing the night time tea - lump of meat.
The man that kept coming into the bedroom always came through the window, so my dad being thorough checked the locks and stuff. The windows hadn't been opened because although they didn't have locks on them, they were screwed shut. The screws had never budged because they had paint over them, dried and old.
But, then.. again, the help of the local vicar/priest/church was sought and nothing happened after that.
Well, I say nothing happened after that particular event.. something is always happening, so maybe I should be saying that event never happened again.
My brother remembers the whole lot that happened to him, even the features of the mans face down to the clothes he was wearing. What he describes is a witch hunter.
I'm sure we're not witches...
Possibly
(My next eldest brother was found tied up in a box in his bedroom...
I was 1 year old, so I'm only reitterating. But, it was in one of the most spookiest houses the family have ever lived in... don't mean to sound posh... just a 3 bedroomed house in Collyhurst, M/cr.
My brother had kept complaining about a man coming into the bedroom at night to beat him and knock him about so much that my brother hid under the covers (like kids do).
Brother would always wake up next morning with marks of some kind on him, but him being 5 years old, it was all put down to creepy nightmares and banging into the wall during his sleep.
Until... one particular morning my brother was found tied up in a box. No, this wasn't something he could have done himself because he couldn't tie knots at that time, especially the knots that were used... I wouldn't know the name of them, but I've seen one that my dad made and said that was the type - like it was knotted 3 or 4 times.
And, what makes it more so odd is that he wasn't just tied up and thrown in a box. It was his fingers and toes tied together crossed - left to right, visa versa.
The box was cardboard, it was there after being used to move toys and clothes from the previous house (which odly enough was the one where the dog (almost 10 years earlier) was blamed for chewing the night time tea - lump of meat.
The man that kept coming into the bedroom always came through the window, so my dad being thorough checked the locks and stuff. The windows hadn't been opened because although they didn't have locks on them, they were screwed shut. The screws had never budged because they had paint over them, dried and old.
But, then.. again, the help of the local vicar/priest/church was sought and nothing happened after that.
Well, I say nothing happened after that particular event.. something is always happening, so maybe I should be saying that event never happened again.
My brother remembers the whole lot that happened to him, even the features of the mans face down to the clothes he was wearing. What he describes is a witch hunter.
I'm sure we're not witches...
Possibly
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Tue 28 Oct 2003, 1:46,
archived)
Christ almighty, mateYou lived in what is now "da ghetto". Why can't the ghosts be there now to sort out the scallies.
(,
Sat 1 Nov 2003, 20:44,
archived)
Another.... (next day)My nephew heard drums above his bedroom when he was around 8 years old; a low and bassy drum with a tribal rhythm...
There was some trouble in that part of the family at that time. My sister was constantly stressed, her husband was here, there, and everywhere, and not at home. The two children (my neice and nephew) were just growing up.
My brother-in-law (sister's husband) has a deep African background; when I say deep, I mean as in going far back, not so much as in deep into the middle of Africa, although Ghana is a fairway inside the country.
My B-I-L's father came to visit him during this period of trouble, not to sort out any trouble or help with any difficulties, no his was just a visit as they hadn't seen each other for about 25 years. So, he came over from Ghana to visit, bringing gifts galour.
One of the gifts he brought was a set of tribal drums, authentic and used in tribal get togethers previously, and now handed down as a bridge to cover the gap of 25 lost years.
My B-I-L's father stayed around for a fortnight, said his goodbyes and went. Not much happened while he was here, though it's now thought that he brought more than the usual kind of gifts with him. After all, the announcement of a visit was unexpected, and not the sort of thing you'd probably do after 25 year - phone up and say you're coming to visit, and then go.
Not soon after the visit, my nephew started telling his mum and dad about something he could see in the trees across the road, and that he was getting scared of it. This went on for about 1 month, and then the desription progressed to a 'monkey with long arms'.
Also, at this time one of my other sisters began having nightmares about a 'monkey with a hideous face, and long arms, beating down on her chest as it sat on her stomach, and bearing it's long sharp teeth'.
And, it got into one of my brother's nightmares too... he woke up one night, in the dark, swearing blindly that there was a big dip in the bed as though something really heavy was sat on it. He said he couldn't see a shape or outline, but could feel that something or someone was there, and said 'it must've been fucking huge, if it was a something'.
Items would go missing for days on end. But for that the children were accused of stealing, even though it was never prooved that they were. Nor was anything that was stolen found in their possession / rooms. Stuff would just turn up in stupid and unusual places, like knives in the freezer, wallet in the bath (actually in a bath full of water)...
One day my mothers' cross and chain was found outside the house on the footpath at the front door. This chain wasn't broken in any way; it was difficult to take it off even when someone else tried to unclasp it. It was found on the floor as though someone had actually taken it off, rather than pull at it, or it being pulled by a coat collar, or jumper or something.
Whilst all this eebie geebie stuff was happening, so too was the tension growing in the family. Arguments and fights and all sorts of stuff happening all the time (which is probably normal from brothers and sisters), but it was constant. Never did the trouble subside even a little tiny bit. And, the trouble only started around the time of this visit from Ghana.
There was no link made at the time between the Tribal Drums and trouble, or monkey, and was only thought of almost a year later.
Well, with two kids and a bit of trouble going on all the time, you'd want to put any valuables away, so the tribal drums were relegated to the attic: hiding place then only known to my B-I-L and my sister.
My nephew then began telling us of how he couldn't sleep very well because he could hear drums at night. His work at school wasn't doing very well, and his teachers had complained at how he'd sleep at his desk. 'Are there any troubles at home?' The teachers would ask.
The monkey had also began 'pointing' at my nephew, 'making horrible angry faces' at him, and shaking its fists and showing it's pointy teeth
My nephew would, for most of the time, sleep in his sisters room, due to being shite scarred. And, whilst the monkey was in the tree, he wouldn't go out and play, nor would he stand near the windows because, he said, it could see him.
So as things went on more thought went into where these drum noises could be coming from, and therefore, the next-door neighbours felt the brunt of it. But, sometime after accusing the neighbours they went away, leaving the house empty. And so, no-one could be accused of making drum noises, or playing music.
Then (it must have been about 2 1/2 to 3 months after the visit) that the shit really hit the fan in the family. My B-I-L and sister split up; B-I-L moved out, taking his stuff with him but leaving the drums in the attic - he'd forgotten them, and so had everyone else for the time.
My nephew's noise problem hadn't settled down, and so it only came obvious then that no-one had gone into the attic above his bedroom to see if there was a loose banging pipe, or loose roof tile, or something that could be attributed to some sort of low bassy rythmic beating.
There were no pipes in the attic. No, loose tiles on the roof. There was a set of 2 African Tribal Drums in that attic directly above my nephew's bed, though.
The drums were given back to my B-I-L , and all bother stopped. My other sister didn't have nightmares of monkeys beating on her chest, nor did my nephew see it ever again, and the drum noises stopped.
Now, if the monkey was a monkey or not, we don't know - orangutan, monkey, gibbon... we're not experts, but my sister said she'd never seen anything like it before, and that she could only think of a monkey type creature when she saw it in her nightmares. My nephew nowadays says that all he can remember of this monkey type thing is that it looked like a monkey, 'but,' he said. 'I'm not an expert.'
When the trouble did stop, the family were all happy and fine again. We still are happy and fine. But, my sister and children left that house and moved elsewhere. We haven't the heart to tell the new homeowners about what happened.
(There was some trouble in that part of the family at that time. My sister was constantly stressed, her husband was here, there, and everywhere, and not at home. The two children (my neice and nephew) were just growing up.
My brother-in-law (sister's husband) has a deep African background; when I say deep, I mean as in going far back, not so much as in deep into the middle of Africa, although Ghana is a fairway inside the country.
My B-I-L's father came to visit him during this period of trouble, not to sort out any trouble or help with any difficulties, no his was just a visit as they hadn't seen each other for about 25 years. So, he came over from Ghana to visit, bringing gifts galour.
One of the gifts he brought was a set of tribal drums, authentic and used in tribal get togethers previously, and now handed down as a bridge to cover the gap of 25 lost years.
My B-I-L's father stayed around for a fortnight, said his goodbyes and went. Not much happened while he was here, though it's now thought that he brought more than the usual kind of gifts with him. After all, the announcement of a visit was unexpected, and not the sort of thing you'd probably do after 25 year - phone up and say you're coming to visit, and then go.
Not soon after the visit, my nephew started telling his mum and dad about something he could see in the trees across the road, and that he was getting scared of it. This went on for about 1 month, and then the desription progressed to a 'monkey with long arms'.
Also, at this time one of my other sisters began having nightmares about a 'monkey with a hideous face, and long arms, beating down on her chest as it sat on her stomach, and bearing it's long sharp teeth'.
And, it got into one of my brother's nightmares too... he woke up one night, in the dark, swearing blindly that there was a big dip in the bed as though something really heavy was sat on it. He said he couldn't see a shape or outline, but could feel that something or someone was there, and said 'it must've been fucking huge, if it was a something'.
Items would go missing for days on end. But for that the children were accused of stealing, even though it was never prooved that they were. Nor was anything that was stolen found in their possession / rooms. Stuff would just turn up in stupid and unusual places, like knives in the freezer, wallet in the bath (actually in a bath full of water)...
One day my mothers' cross and chain was found outside the house on the footpath at the front door. This chain wasn't broken in any way; it was difficult to take it off even when someone else tried to unclasp it. It was found on the floor as though someone had actually taken it off, rather than pull at it, or it being pulled by a coat collar, or jumper or something.
Whilst all this eebie geebie stuff was happening, so too was the tension growing in the family. Arguments and fights and all sorts of stuff happening all the time (which is probably normal from brothers and sisters), but it was constant. Never did the trouble subside even a little tiny bit. And, the trouble only started around the time of this visit from Ghana.
There was no link made at the time between the Tribal Drums and trouble, or monkey, and was only thought of almost a year later.
Well, with two kids and a bit of trouble going on all the time, you'd want to put any valuables away, so the tribal drums were relegated to the attic: hiding place then only known to my B-I-L and my sister.
My nephew then began telling us of how he couldn't sleep very well because he could hear drums at night. His work at school wasn't doing very well, and his teachers had complained at how he'd sleep at his desk. 'Are there any troubles at home?' The teachers would ask.
The monkey had also began 'pointing' at my nephew, 'making horrible angry faces' at him, and shaking its fists and showing it's pointy teeth
My nephew would, for most of the time, sleep in his sisters room, due to being shite scarred. And, whilst the monkey was in the tree, he wouldn't go out and play, nor would he stand near the windows because, he said, it could see him.
So as things went on more thought went into where these drum noises could be coming from, and therefore, the next-door neighbours felt the brunt of it. But, sometime after accusing the neighbours they went away, leaving the house empty. And so, no-one could be accused of making drum noises, or playing music.
Then (it must have been about 2 1/2 to 3 months after the visit) that the shit really hit the fan in the family. My B-I-L and sister split up; B-I-L moved out, taking his stuff with him but leaving the drums in the attic - he'd forgotten them, and so had everyone else for the time.
My nephew's noise problem hadn't settled down, and so it only came obvious then that no-one had gone into the attic above his bedroom to see if there was a loose banging pipe, or loose roof tile, or something that could be attributed to some sort of low bassy rythmic beating.
There were no pipes in the attic. No, loose tiles on the roof. There was a set of 2 African Tribal Drums in that attic directly above my nephew's bed, though.
The drums were given back to my B-I-L , and all bother stopped. My other sister didn't have nightmares of monkeys beating on her chest, nor did my nephew see it ever again, and the drum noises stopped.
Now, if the monkey was a monkey or not, we don't know - orangutan, monkey, gibbon... we're not experts, but my sister said she'd never seen anything like it before, and that she could only think of a monkey type creature when she saw it in her nightmares. My nephew nowadays says that all he can remember of this monkey type thing is that it looked like a monkey, 'but,' he said. 'I'm not an expert.'
When the trouble did stop, the family were all happy and fine again. We still are happy and fine. But, my sister and children left that house and moved elsewhere. We haven't the heart to tell the new homeowners about what happened.
steponfrog dribblygreenstuffdriblingfrommynoes,
Tue 28 Oct 2003, 23:56,
archived)