OK, One Little Troglodyte Post

I think it would be kind of cool to go to school in a cave, like these kids in China. See more pictures here.

I'm Being Attacked!

By a virus from Hades. I was really looking forward to posting some cool stuff about cave dwellers today. Unfortunately, I've been battling a serious bug, which has left me tired and dangerously cranky. (At least that's what people keep telling me.) Even thoughts of giant squid give me no pleasure. Very sad.

Hopefully, I'll return to duty tomorrow morning! In the meantime, feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

The Rock Cottage

Tomorrow, I believe I'll do a post or two on the subject of modern-day troglodytes (cave dwellers). You'll be suprised to learn how many people live underground! I'll start off the fun with this lovely little cottage built into a English cave. Though it doesn't have running water or electricity, it recently sold at auction for more than $200,000!

It's one of many "rock houses" in the area around Wolverley, Worcestershire. You can see pictures of some of the others here.

Is It A Hoax--or Just Weird?

This story has been around for a little while, and I expected it to be quickly dismissed as a hoax. Somehow it hasn't. Even the people at the Museum of Hoaxes website won't say for sure. So since you're all expert hoax spotters by now, I thought I'd get your opinion.

Did the people above really have plastic surgery to make their ears resemble those of elves, pixies, or fauns? Or are the pictures on the right photoshopped? A website that claims to be the homepage of a Hungarian doctor contains a picture gallery of people (all quite normal looking) who've supposedly had the unusual procedure.

According to the site, "Ears becoming pointed as a result of plastic surgery not only enhance the attractiveness of the face, but also improve the experience of listening to music." Hmmm.

Take a look at Dr. Lajos Nagy's website, and report your conclusions.

(Below: A real faun.)

I Will NEVER Set Foot in Obereichstaett

Today's two posts are intended to make you feel really great about your own hometown. Maybe you'll decide that you could live with New Delhi's monkey problem (below), but I can guarantee that you'd never, EVER want to move to the German town of Obereichstaett.

That's because every autumn, the village is overwhelmed by swarms of MILLIPEDES. (On a personal note, I once lived in a house that was infested with millipedes. I had to shake out my shoes every morning. Nothing--monkeys, rats, cockroaches, or leeches--could possibly be worse than millipedes.)

One villager described last year's infestation. "You couldn't take a step without crushing a dozen underfoot. The smell was disgusting." Now the town has erected a wall to keep the creepy-crawlies out. It hasn't worked as well as they'd hoped. Every night, the insects can be seen slithering around the wall in droves.

Read more about it here in the Daily Telegraph (London).

(I just found this picture on CNN. What is that girl thinking?)

Never Look a Monkey in the Eye

New Delhi, India has a serious monkey problem. Rhesus macaques have taken over the city. And no, I'm not joking. I'm not even exaggerating. A gang of monkeys recently raided the city’s police headquarters. Mean-spirited macaques wait outside of hospitals and attack patients for their IV fluids. Others can be spotted bathing their infants in New Delhi’s fountains or even taking rides on the subway.

And then, just when the citizens of one of the largest cities on Earth thought the problem couldn't get any worse . . . their deputy mayor was murdered by monkeys. In October, four of the beasts attacked Sawinder Singh Bajwa while he sat reading the paper on his balcony. As he tried to drive them away, he lost his balance and fell over the side.

Yet despite everything, monkeys are still free to frolic through the palaces and parks. Most of New Delhi’s residents are Hindus, and their religion prevents them from harming the animals. In fact twice a week, followers of the monkey god, Hanuman, still gather to feed the creatures.

Meanwhile, the city's only official monkey catcher has quit in despair. The rich have begun hiring private monkey catchers who use bigger, meaner monkeys to frighten the macaques. (Not long ago, they tried this same approach in New Delhi's subways. The results were disastrous.)

Until the monkey problem can be solved, officials offer one piece of advice to the people of New Delhi. If you don't want to be attacked, "never look a monkey in the eye."

Read more here and here.

(Above: Photo by Manpreet Romana for Agence France-Presse. Below: The Hindu monkey god, Hanuman.)

One Feisty Frog

Okay, so you guys didn't buy the last video. Here's one that's definitely not a hoax. You gotta love this amphibian. He may be small, but he won't take nothin' from nobody.

Unicorn Captured on Camera?

What do you think?



The Last Unicorn - Das Letzte Einhorn? - Click here for more home videos

The Seven Missing Wonders of the World

(Above: Have You Seen This Woman?)

The tomb of Nefertitti, the most famous of ancient Egypt's queens.
The wreck of a ship that sank while transporting $1 billion of gold.
Amelia Earhart's airplane, which crashed in 1937.
Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece.
The Holy Grail.

What do all of these things have in common? They're all lost--and some of them have been for centuries. Anyone smart (or lucky) enough to track them down will be rewarded with both fame and fortune.

Thinking of having a look? This article in the Wall Street Journal comes with an interactive map of the world's seven missing wonders.

It's interesting, but why only SEVEN? I would add a few more to the list . . . Blackbeard's treasure, the Florentine Diamond, The Ark of the Covenant . . . to name only three.

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #6

This terrifying tale from Lena is the last of our finalists in the Tales of Adventure contest! Again, congratulations, everyone!

This is also the longest of the entries, so I'm breaking it into two parts.


"Time to go." I snapped the goggles onto my head and checked Dylan and Savannah. They were suiting up with their hiking boots and goggles. They were both wearing matched cargo pants and green camo.

"O.K, K. We are all set." Dylan looked over and I had to stifle a laugh, his goggles looked weird on him. Dylan and Savannah are my best friends. They are a year younger than me, but they are normally able to keep up.

"Kaitlyn." Savannah looked over and redid her goggles. "Why do we need these things?"

Her brother looked at her like she was a doofus. "We're going to the Trail! " He rolled his eyes and made his way to the door.

"Got the survival kit?" I asked him. As he shook his head in a 'No', I handed him a light blue pillow bag.

"Don't know about you, but I think we'd need this." I said and he began opening the door. Savannah got a list and began to count off.

"Water?" She turned to me and I made a thumbs-up.

"Rubber ducky?" Dylan pulled out a rubber duck and looked confused. "Why do we need this?"

"Distraction. Just in case someone is about to find us, the other throws this in an opposite direction." I squeezed the rubber duck and it made a noise. I threw it to the floor and it played a small tinkering tune.

"Nice." Dylan tried to high five me, but I 'left him hanging'.

"Not now, Dyl." I shot him a dirty look and he pulled the next item out.

"Mirror? We are going to the wild, why would we need a mirror?" Savannah asked, but someone cut her off at 'Why?'

"If we need to blind someone temporarily."

The back door opened and my younger brother, Sam the genius, came in. "Even I know that, and I'm in fifth grade."

Savannah tried to giggle it off, but was hurt by Sam's remark. She blushed a deep red and I remembered that Savannah had a thing for younger guys, especially smart ones like Sam.

Dylan glanced at Sam for a moment before looking at me again. "Next?" He was obviously annoyed. Sam had that effect on him.

"There should be no one there tonight, you know. Earth Day celebrations are in three days. The hippies don't go and start their bongo banging until two days beforehand." Sam said, sounding older. "And you two look ridiculous, by the way." He snapped a pair of goggles on his own forehead. "I'm going." He said with finality.

"Bull Samuel. You aren't going anywhere. You've got GT Homework." I reminded him. "It's Friday, so you must have a ton."

"I'll do it Sunday. Besides, you are a freshman in High School, don't tell me I've got homework. You should be babysitting me right now." Sam was playing dirty.

"Shut it, Samuel." Dylan stepped in and waved us out the door. "We don't have much time, it's nearly Twilight."

For the rest, click here.

Bannerman's Castle

For all of you who thought there couldn't POSSIBLY be a castle in the middle of the Hudson River, I offer this wonderful photo essay as proof! Shown above and below is the very real Bannerman's Castle, site of Sidonia Galatzina's infamous party in the first Kiki Strike book. As you can see, it's just as I described it.

Though the ruins are beautiful, according to American Heritage, the building was even more spectacular before an unfortunate explosion toppled many of its walls.

"It was creviced and encrusted with battlements, towers, turrets, crenellations, parapets, embrasures, casements, and corbelling. Huge iron baskets suspended from the castle corners held gas-fed lamps that burned in the night like ancient torches. By day Bannerman’s castle gave the river a fairyland aspect. By night it threw a brooding silhouette against the Hudson skyline."

These stunning pictures are the work of photographer Shaun O'Boyle, who must have faced a fair number of ticks and snakes in order to take them. You can see more photos and read about the history of the castle here on one of my favorite blogs.

Phantom of the Filling Station

THIS is unusual, even by my standards.

Nothing Hits the Spot Like a Delicious Ham Soda

Every year, the good people at Jones Soda decide to spice up the holidays with limited-edition flavors. In 2007, the Christmas sodas include Sugar Plum (yumm), Egg Nog (umm . . . ok), Christmas Tree (what), and Ham (eeeewww).

For those of you who celebrate Hanukkah, you can choose from Jelly Doughnut, Apple Sauce, Chocolate Coins, and Potato Latkes. (Mmm. Latkes. Sign me up!)

I'm just wondering what they'll do for Kwanzaa.

NYC Rat Related News!

Rats have taken over Manhattan's City Hall Park. According to The New York Times, they scamper about in broad daylight, just yards from the mayor's office. As the reporter noted, "They also seem unafraid of people and at perfect ease in their surroundings, sometimes appearing as playful as squirrels." (Squirrels! I knew those wily little rodents were involved somehow.) The pictures that accompany the article show the park's rats at having a merry old time, sprinting through the grass and weaving between unsuspecting visitors' feet.

According to the experts, the abandoned subway station (more on that later) and tunnels beneath City Hall Park offer the rats an ideal shelter. Though they're usually nocturnal, these rats emerge in the afternoon as people flock to the park to enjoy their lunch. They steal whatever scraps they can, and then slink back to their underground lairs.

If you aren't already completely disgusted, you can read more here.

(Below: One of the fearless rats of City Hall Park. Photo by Tyler Hicks for The New York Times.)

I Think I'll Have Tea, Thanks

This story is not for the squeamish. It concerns the origins of the most expensive coffee on Earth. Thought maggot cheese was bad? You ain't seen nothing yet.

Which brings me to the picture above. You're looking at the best coffeemaker in the world. No, it's not a particularly talented weasel. It's a civet, and it lives in Indonesia.

At night, civets invade the country's coffee plantations, stealing the fruit straight off the bushes. They eat the fleshy outer part and swallow the bean inside. As the coffee beans pass through the animal's digestive system, they undergo a remarkable transformation. The juices in the civet's stomach remove all the bitterness from the coffee. When the beans finally leave they animal's body (yeah, you know what I'm talking about), they're said to be exceptionally mild and delicious.

Indonesians gather the beans from the civets' droppings, and sell them for $600 a pound. Just one cup of kopi luwak (as it's called in Indonesia) can cost $30.

Delicious!

Read more here.

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #5

THE MOST EXCITING STORY EVER

By L. Harder

It was a dark and stormy night, I was far away from home, and even though my parents were in the same hotel room, I felt very, very alone. I looked at the portrait of a stern looking gentleman who was hanging above the fireplace. I walked to one end of the room. He still glowered at me. I moved myself towards the doorway. He wasn’t looking so stern anymore. I am sure it wasn’t my imagination. He was looking downright malicious. It was just his eyes, I assured myself. The Mona Lisa thing, I was sure of it.

That night I dreamed of the guy in the painting. He was chasing me with a fork in his hand, yelling “The knife! No feast without a knife! Give it!” A few wild-looking dogs appeared beside me, saliva dripping from their jaws. They would have eaten me for sure, but the man shooed them away, saying “No feast until the prey is dead! No feast until she hands it over!”

No feast? A knife? I checked my pockets. Nope, no knife in there. Before I could tell my pursuer as much, I jerked awake… and found a long, silver dagger in my hands. I flung the weapon as hard as I could away from me and suppressed a scream. I flinched as the dagger hit the floor with a loud clatter and glanced at my parents’ sleeping forms. No movement. Good.

Shaking, I stepped out of bed and tiptoed my way to the weapon that had appeared in my hands. The motel room was freezing. I tried my best to ignore the man in the painting. His eyes looked dead in the moonlight. I stayed awake long enough to hide the knife in my suitcase, then stumbled hazily back to my bed. The picture, even though the man portrayed in it wasn’t real, had a hypnotizing effect.

When I woke up the next morning, I had nearly forgotten about my nightmarish dream and the dagger, but it all came back when I rooted through my suitcase and found it underneath a pile of socks. I took out three pairs and covered the gleaming blade up with a T-shirt. My feet were blue with cold.

We were ready to leave to go home by then, but first we had to check out of the hotel. My mother bought a few postcards with the guy from the painting on them. I should have been repulsed at the idea, after my scary dream, but my eyes were drawn to them. It was almost as if they were hypnotizing me.

So we went home, and I put the postcard of that guy on my bulletin board. That should have been the end of everything, but it wasn’t.

That night, while I was snuggled in bed comfortably, I was drawn to the picture again. He seemed to get nearer and nearer until he seemed close enough for me to touch. Closer, and closer, and closer…. I jerked out of my trance and rubbed my feet. They were still freezing cold. I had tried all day to get them warm, but they refused. When I walked around, I couldn’t feel them. I sighed and tried to get to sleep.

I dreamed of that guy again. We were in my classroom, and he was giving me directions for an assignment. “I told you a thousand times,” he said, sounding exasperated. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Please,” I begged, “Just one more time. I promise I’ll listen.” He handed me a worksheet instead and glared at me until I started reading. It was something about mummies, I think. I had to do some questions, too, but I couldn’t see what they were. I was just going to have to do them anyway.

I started writing, but as soon as my no. 2 pencil touched the paper, it turned into the silver dagger that was currently hidden in my sock drawer. Wait, what?! In my dream, I looked up at the guy quickly. He looked almost hungrily at my paper—no, my knife—and was opening his mouth to speak. And then my alarm went off.

I was conscious instantly. Before I could hurry over to turn it off, I realized that I was holding the gleaming blade, and it was poised over my heart. I gasped, but this time I held onto it. I looked at my postcard. He was wearing the same expression he had worn before I had woken up. It was as if time had stopped. And, as if something inside of me had clicked, I understood.

But it was too late. My numbed feet were already moving. They were taking me down the stairs, out the front door. On and on they walked, and I did not know where. I was still holding the dagger in one hand. My eyes were fixed on those of the guy in the picture. I guess I had grabbed it on my way from my room.

After almost another hour of walking, I arrived at a graveyard. My feet carried me over to a tombstone, the name on it almost entirely worn away by passing years. My body now seemed to be my own again, if only for the moment, and I bent down to discern the writing on it. I edged closer, wishing that the flickering floodlight above me would give off a stronger illumination. It said:

General Frank Capp

Died 1753

You were never missed.

This was the guy on my postcard, then. I tried to get up, so I could find the nearest pay phone to call my parents, but my legs seemed rooted to the spot. The air was getting colder, and the hand with the dagger in it was edging close to my chest. It seemed the general’s ghost wanted revenge. For what, I couldn’t guess.

My hands were freezing, and I knew I wouldn’t have that much chance against a bloodthirsty spirit. I quickly said the Lord’s Prayer, but the ghost wasn’t a vampire and didn’t back off. I could now feel the blade pressing against my pajama top. More as a desperate hope than anything, I said “I know you were hurt, but since you’re dead and can’t do anything about it, you shouldn’t take it out on living people.” I wasn’t expecting the ghost to lighten up on my hand, but I guess I surprised it. It hesitated for just a moment, allowing me to put my whole weight on the dagger. It fought back, stronger than ever. This struggle wasn’t going to allow room for any of us to make a slip or mistake.

My arms were shaking. It was going to win, I knew it. With the last ounces of strength left in me I plunged the dagger down towards the photograph.

~~~

Later, I found a pay phone and called my parents.
I haven’t worn the color blue since.

Squirrel Chasing Kid Discovers Mammoth Tooth

I'm posting this for three reasons. First, that kid is darn cute. (And as you may recall, I have a weakness for all adorable little creatures.) Second, anyone who devotes his spare time to chasing squirrels deserves my support. And third, it proves once again that there's treasure all around us.

Not long ago, three-year-old Kaleb Kidd (great name) was terrorizing the Wisconsin squirrel community when he stumbled upon an unsual rock. He told his grandfather it looked like a tooth--and that's exactly what it was. Kaleb had discovered an ancient tooth that had once belonged to a wooly mammoth.

Much to Kaleb's dismay, the tooth is now on display at an art gallery. That's right. They took Kaleb's tooth away from him! (And he didn't even get a sizeable check from the tooth fairy in return!)

I demand justice. Read more here.

Ferocious Faeries

Artist Tessa Farmer uses insect carcasses, roots, skeletons, and other nasty bits and pieces to create miniature creatures that she calls "fairies." But these wee beasties aren't likely to grant wishes or sprinkle fairy dust. Instead, they're savages who seem bent on torturing the insects of the world.

The Cow Abduction Website

Are cows across the country being kidnapped by aliens? Visit this website to examine the evidence. Extremely silly and amusing. (Don't miss the opportunity to "be a witness.")

Attack of the Gnomes

One morning last month, a woman in Springfield, Oregon stepped out of her house to discover that her front yard had been invaded. By garden gnomes. Seventy-five of the aggressively cute little munchkins had waited all night for the woman to make an appearance, staring down her front door with their cold, concrete eyes.

Just thinking of it gives me the shivers.

As it turns out, the gnomes had been kidnapped from lawns across Springfield and relocated by an unknown prankster. According to this article, while "small-time gnome theft" is common in Oregon, the authorities have never before seen a crime of this magnitude. Though suspects have not been identified, I believe it may have been the work of The Garden Gnome Liberation Front.

Today, the gnomes are in the custody of the Springfield police, waiting for their rightful owners to come claim them.

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #4

This story of an adventure that went horribly wrong earned the "Don't Try This At Home" award. (I shortened it a little bit. Hope you don't mind!)

Hello my name is Claire Maine-inn, which is an anagram for my real name. My friend MK, which is short for Mary Kathryn, and I went over to our friend Jackii’s house a couple of years ago to stay the night. She lives one block from an old high school. So we all planned to sneak over to the school after her Dad and step-mom went to sleep because her cousin had told her that strange things happen at night over there and that was why they closed the school. I told her that he was trying to scare her and that why would they close a school for something that happens during the night, but she was determined to go. So all of us dress in black outfits and put our stuff in a dark purple gym bag that Jackii had in her closet. We brought a flashlight, three scarves to use in case of asbestos, a cell phone, a telephone book to keep the door from locking, and an old I-pod that MK had so we could find our way back.

When we got over to the school we went to the front, which was locked of course. We tried two more doors and decided to go through an open or broken window. We couldn’t find an open window but we found a broken window and broke it more to get in. We started to walk around the school. First we went to the gym and looked around but didn’t see much so we went to the locker rooms. When we first walked in I heard something, and MK said do you hear a shower running? So we looked around and found showers but they were old and off except one but it was hardly on. Jackii said well that was probably the sound MK why don’t you turn it off. MK said no I don't wanna why won't you or Claire do it? Fine I'll do it if you stop fighting I said.

I walked over and turned it to the right and it turned on and was spitting out dirty water. We all screamed and ran out. Let’s go somewhere else said Jackii. Most of the classrooms were the same, empty except for a few things like old papers and books. One of the doors we tried to open would not open. I said hey bet there is something in there why don't we break it and get in? Jackii said no that would be vandalizing. So we lifted Jackii up because she is smallest. We asked her if she seen anything. Not really it's dusty up here she answered so MK said break the window then. She pushed it in with her hand carefully and we could hear it crack then fall in.

What do you see we asked Jackii. She said push me higher, I think I see something in here. It looks big. Toss me over so I can get in. So we tossed Jackii over the other side. She screamed as she fell over and landed with a sickening crack she started screaming and crying. So MK pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. We told them where we were and what happened, and they came over fast. They were able to open the door, and when they did we saw Jackii crying on the floor, her arm bent at a odd angle with a bunch of blood on it. Jackii said when she hit the floor she slipped on the glass and broke her arm. The police asked us what we were doing in the school, and we told them we wanted to see if it was haunted. They told us that we shouldn't go around this school and that there's a reason they lock up the doors. They called all of our parents. We were in trouble for a long time after that and Jackii wasn't allowed to have sleepovers for three months. She is all better now and the doctors said that it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

The only thing I could never figure out was what happened to the big thing in the room. When they opened the door, the class was empty except for Jackii and she says she doesn't remember seeing anything.

The Boy Who Sees Without Eyes

Today I’m bringing you two of the most remarkable and inspirational stories I’ve ever come across. Both concern extraordinary individuals and the wonders of the human body. I promise—you will be astounded.

The first story stars Ben Underwood, a teenager who lives in Sacramento, CA. When he was just a toddler, Ben lost both his eyes to cancer. Yet today Ben can SEE. He can ride a bike. Shoot hoops. Rollerblade. All without eyes.

You see, Ben Underwood is the only human on Earth who “sees” completely through echolocation. As he moves, he makes a series of clicks with his tongue. His ears pick up the echoes of the sounds bouncing off of nearby objects, and his brain converts the information into images. It’s the same way bats, which have very poor eyesight, are able to navigate the skies and snap up tiny insects.

You can see an entire BBC documentary about Ben here. I urge you to watch at least the first 10-minute segment. It’s absolutely amazing.

The Blind Sherlock Holmes

Coincidentally, the second story today also concerns a blind individual, this time a Belgian police officer named Sacha van Loo. Blind since birth, Mr. van Loo has developed stunning abilities that compensate for his lack of sight. It’s these abilities that have earned him the nickname The Blind Sherlock Holmes.

Mr. van Loo works in the anti-terrorism department of the Belgian Federal Police, where his skills are in high demand. When officers eavesdrop on criminals, they often ask Mr. van Loo to listen in. Using his acute sense of hearing, he can pinpoint a suspect’s location from the faint noises in the background or the way the person’s voice bounces off nearby walls. He can tell what kind of car a criminal is driving just by listening to its engine. The “library of accents” in Mr. van Loo’s head allows him to identify a suspect’s background. And if a person makes a call, Mr. van Loo can immediately identify the telephone number that was dialed simply by listening to the sounds made by the touch-tone keypad.

Mr. van Loo’s abilities have proven so useful for catching criminals and terrorists that the Belgian police have recently developed an entire unit of blind officers.

Read more about Sacha van Loo here.

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #3

This is the finalist that left all the judges dying for more!

A Tale of Adventure

By Pearl

"He could be lying in a pool of blood, bike lying on top of him, ball in hand, unconscious, slowly dying right now. Or he could be kidnapped, laying in the trunk of a car, ball, bouncing and hitting his head over and over again. Slowly going unconscious. "I said dramatically.

"But we don't care, we all hate Tony," my sister's friend Mehul said.

I replied "Yeah, but getting a ball is a stupid way to die."

"We still don't care, we all still hate Tony," this time my sister answered me.

"So . . . You're finally back, what happened?" I asked my chubby next door neighbor, Tony.

"I got kidnapped, oh, yeah, I got the ball. It rolled all the way out off the neighborhood."

"What! You got kidnapped?" Mehul asked shocked.

"No big deal, I've gotten kidnapped a few times before, all I had to do was stick my gum, which I always carry in my pocket, in the car's ignition and wait for the person to start the color. Then all I had to do was give them a karate chop in the back fo the head and he was gone."

"Dead?" I asked

"No, just knocked out," he replied.

Later that day asked my sister what she thought of Tony. I told her that something was weird about him. He treated kidnapping like it was nothing, he said he'd been kidnapped before . . . My sister thought I was crazy, but I wondered if there was something more to Tony Melgranda than meets the eye. Maybe they were spies. No, my mind wandered back to when my sister, Jade was playing with Tony. His brother said that he wanted to be a Marine, to serve his country. If they were spies then Tony's brother would already be serving his country. No, it had to be something worse.

I decided to go on the Internet and look up his mother's Patricia Melgranda. I checked the first link. I was shocked I had expected something bad, but not that bad; Patricia Melgranda was the head of the American Mafia. That would explain their cars. They had about six cars, and they were all really nice cars until they scratched them with their car keys. Their family also didn't care about how bad they banged up their cars. Their family was constantly almost always squishing us with their horrible driving. That was why Tony's brother wanted to be Marines, it was the only way not to be a member of his mom's "job."

Once I found out I wanted to move, but they would get suspicious since we only moved there two years ago. Now I want to find out more and I know I will.

Goodbye Texas

Sorry for holding up your comments! I was on a plane back to New York. (Proof above. Texas is somewhere beneath those clouds.) I had a BLAST in Austin, and I met some really amazing people. (Though I missed one of Austin's best sights. I've heard that every evening, swarms of bats emerge from underneath one of the bridges in town. Next time!)

While I was 30,000 feet above the earth, a reader asked about the myspace interview that happened last month. I can't post all of the answers here. (It would be way too complicated.) But if you click here you can read them them all!

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #2

Here is Spring's real-life adventure. After reading it, I've been busy booby-trapping my apartment all week!

Once upon a time, my brother and I were bringing in the mail and paper for some friends (the Craigs) who were on vacation. It was OK for both of their cars to be in the backyard since they were renting a car. Everyday I saw both of the cars in the backyard until one day (which happened to be Monday.) Well they were supposed to be home on Monday, but I didn't know what time, so my brother and I thought they were home. We rang the doorbell to see if they were there, but nobody answered, and the mail and paper wasn't taken in. So I decided to go in, since that was why we were there anyway. When we got in I called "Hello!" and no answer. So I just put the mail and paper in the designated box and drank some water (one of the things we got as a reward for bringing the mail and paper in was unlimited water!) And then I left.

When we got home I told my dad that one of the cars wasn't there, but the mail and paper wasn't inside. My dad first thought it might be stolen, and we were going to call the Craigs if they didn't call us first. Later the Craigs called and said the car WAS stolen and the house was broken into. Drawers were open, but the only thing we found gone was the keys and some headphones... I discovered that the headphones were gone because when I was at my piano lesson (Mrs. Craig is my piano teacher too) the day after we discovered the the burglary I was going to play a music game on the computer but the headphones were gone. Now what kind of thief would take keys and the WORST HEADPHONES the Craigs had?

It's kind of scary to think that maybe the burglar was in the house when my brother and I were there.

Hermin the Vermin

The bizarre creature shown above was discovered in a seldom-visited part of an English schoolhouse. Freakish squirrel? Mummified alien? Feejee Mermaid? No one knows what the beast might be, but townsfolk have named it "Hermin the Vermin" and "Spawn of the Jersey Devil."

The man who discovered the remains (which are said to possess an impressive set of teeth) plans to keep it as a souvenir. Read more here.

As interesting as Hermin might be, he's nothing compared to the Jersey Devil, a creature that's said to terrorize the New Jersey Pine Barrens. It deserves its very own post, but in the meantime, here's a little snippet from Wikipedia to pique your curiosity . . .

"The most popular version of the Jersey Devil legend begins in the 18th century when Deborah Smith from England immigrated to the Pine Barrens in southern New Jersey to marry a Mr. Leeds, a rather vain man who wanted several heirs to continue the family name. After bearing twelve healthy children, [Deborah] was dismayed to be pregnant with her thirteenth. She cursed the unborn child, declaring a preference to bear the Devil's child rather than another Leeds. Apparently, her wish was granted as the new child had cloven hooves, claws, and a tail. The horrific newborn proceeded to eat the other Leeds children and the parents, before escaping through the chimney to begin its reign of terror."

I wonder if ever takes one of the tunnels into New York City?

(Below: The Jersey Devil)

At Last! Wedgie-Proof Underwear!

Two brothers from Ohio have managed to create what most people have long thought impossible--wedgie-proof underwear. Their stroke of genius came when their mother caught the boys giving each other wedgies (apparently a common form of recreation among eight-year-old boys). During the lecture that followed, she snipped that someone should find a way to put an end to the painful procedure once and for all.

The boys took her suggestion to heart, and invented the "Rip Away 1000," an ordinary-looking pair of underwear with velcro holding the seams together. When grabbed by a brother or bully, the underwear (as the name suggests) simply rips away!

Congrats to Jared and Justin Serovich. Your invention is bound to make the world a much better (less painful) place!

Read more here.

Tales of Adventure: Finalist #1

By International Mastermind

“And the head rolled to Amy's feet.”

I yawned. Not because it was midnight, but because everyone’s “scary stories” were very boring. I was sitting with Emily, Cathy, and Gwen in Emily's room, on Emily's birthday.

“Gwen,” said Emily. “That story was so not scary.” I silently agreed.

“Oh, yeah?” Asked Gwen. “Let's hear you tell a better one.” I leaned back and listened to Emily begin.

“So when we moved here last year on my birthday, I moved my stuff into the room down the hall. But the first night I started hearing these noises. Like little girls giggling. But I am an only child, so I got all freaked and, um, moved in here.” She blushed. “I haven't heard anything since.” Emily sat back, her eyes daring them to criticize. I must have fallen asleep then, because the last thing I remember was my friends giggling.

“Uh,” I grunted as I sat up in my sleeping bag. I glanced around the room. All of my friends were sitting up, looking tired.

“What time is it?” asked Cathy, sleepily.

“It's one in the morning!” said Gwen. I had no idea what had woken us up. The house was silent. Emily told us all to go back to sleep, and soon we could hear her snores.

“Did you hear that?” asked Cathy.

“We can all hear Emily snoring.” I said. Suddenly I heard a soft laugh.

“That!” Yelled Cathy.

“Shut up!” Gwen hissed.

I grabbed a flashlight. “Let's go.”

Cathy, Gwen and I tiptoed down the hallway. “This is so stupid, Sylvie.” Gwen whispered to me. “I can't believe that you even remembered Emily's stupid story,” she grumbled. She silenced as we heard another giggle. I ignored her insults. When we reached the door at the end of the hall, Cathy moaned.

“What's wrong, Cat?” I asked. “Oh, nothing. I'll come.” she said. The handle squeaked as I turned it. The room behind the door was bare, except for an old torn couch.

Gwen walked up and kicked it. “Can we go now?” she asked from behind the couch. She started to walk around the couch. “Ow!” she almost yelled. Her use of four lettered words was very creative. “I stubbed my stupid toe.”

I walked up to Gwen, and looked down. Gwen had hurt herself on a loose floorboard. Gwen was pouting on the couch, and Cathy still cowered in the doorway.

I called Cathy over. “Check that out,” I said. She reached out a hand and jiggled the board until it popped out. Now Gwen was also crouched around it.

Cathy reached into the hole, and then drew back. “Eyeuuw,” she said. “Cobwebs.” I thrust my hand in. Ick. She was right, there were sticky strings clinging to my arm. I could feel a spider crawling over my fingers. Suddenly I felt something hard and cold. I pulled it out for everyone to see. Whatever it was, it was covered in dirt and grime.

“We better go wash that thing off.” Gwen said.

We ran it under hot water for awhile. “Hot water kills bacteria,” said health conscious Cathy. Soon the pile of dirt in my hand turned into a silver locket. Gwen grabbed it, she had always been intrigued with anything that sparkled. She slipped it over her head, and broke into a fit of giggles.

“Um, Gwen?” asked Cathy, waving her hand in front of the girls face.

Gwen raised her hands above her head and pulled the necklace off. Her giggling ceased, and her face twisted into a grimace. “No fair!” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Wasn't my fault,” I said.

Cathy cleared her throat. “Um, shouldn't we open it?” Cathy tried to reglue her fake nail back in place, while I gave a try at prying the latch open.

“Where'd you guys go?” asked someone behind me. I swiveled around. Emily leaned on the bathtub, rubbing her eye.

“We found this,” I said holding up the locket. “You try to open it, Cathy's nail fell off, and my fingers are about to.” She held the locket firmly, and pulled. It cracked open easily in her hands. A giggle, so much louder and sharper than the others, rang out. The air before us was a little bit misty, but that might have been my imagination. But I'm almost sure of what we heard next.

“Hello girls!” said a high, girlish voice. I could swear that something else was being said, but we were all screaming so loudly that I couldn't be sure.

We sat at the breakfast table in the morning, eating pancakes. “I got that locket for my birthday,” said Emily. “The same day that we moved here!” We had figured out that the locket had belonged to Emily's grandma, and before that, her grandmas sister, who had died of a plague when she was seven. None of us had slept that night, with a ghost loose in the house.

“Thanks for coming to my party,” said Emily, grinning. “Thanks for having me!” I said, grinning back. I was almost across the street when someone called my name. I turned back to wave, and saw a little redheaded girl in an old fashioned dress, waving at me. I turned back, and smiled. I knew what scary story I would be telling at my next sleepover.

Here's the Plan

Didn't know we had a plan, eh? Well we do. Unless someone objects, for the next six days, I will be posting the award-winning stories from the Tales of Adventure contest!

During this time, I shall be visiting beautiful Austin, Texas--the second greatest place on Earth!

And I just found out . . . the Shadow City Store is OPEN FOR BUSINESS!

My New Favorite Artist

Behold the remarkable artwork of Jen Corace. No jokes, Infamous!

By Popular Demand

Tales of Adventure now presents the second grand-prize winning entry.

THE SAILOR GHOSTS

By Nellie

One day, I asked my mother if I could take a walk.

"Sure," she said. "Just be back by 2:30. I think it's going to rain." So I decided to go to the park, because it has a creek, about a million trails in the woods, and I thought I could do some good in the world by killing a mosquito or two. I wasn't at all interested in the playground, because it was under renovation to make it safer. Playground renovators seem to be more interested in making sure [you won't] get a 1mm bruise, instead of making sure you have fun.

So I got to the park, and it turned out that the renovations were done. I decided to check it out, just to see how badly those evil renovators had destroyed the playground equipment. Was I ever in for a surprise. Instead of 2 foot slides or sandboxes, there was simply a huge model ship.

This, in case you haven't picked up on it, was out of the ordinary. I decided to explore the ship. I ran home and got my flashlight, just in case, and then I came back and boarded the ship.

Twenty pale, transparent, sunken-eyed men moved towards me, their arms
outstretched.
I froze.

Suddenly, all the men lunged forward and attempted to grab me around the neck. Lucky for me there's only enough room on my neck for about two pairs of hands. In my panic, the only thing I could think of to do was turn my flashlight on and scream at the top of my lungs. It worked. The ghosts fell back, shielding their eyes from the light and, luckily, letting go of me. I ran home. My mother was surprised to see me back so early, and she looked like she was about to give me a chore to do, so I said I just wanted to get something. I then sprinted up to my room, grabbed my book entitled GHOSTS AND WHAT TO DO IF YOU MEET THEM (RUN AWAY), and was out the door in forty-five seconds.

I arrived back at the ship determined to figure out more about the ghosts. It didn't take long for the ghosts to come up and try to strangle me. Hmmm. The first time, I'd screamed and they'd gone away. I screamed again. Nothing happened, except a couple of the ghosts looked at each other in disgust. Oops. Hmmm. I'd also turned my flashlight on. I shut up and turned my flashlight on. Nothing happened. Oh dear. By this time, it was getting hard to breathe, but then I remembered that last time I had screamed at the same time as having my flashlight on. I turned my flashlight on and shrieked as loudly as I could. All the ghosts dropped me and shrank back as before. I realized, now that they had started to let me breathe, that they were sailor ghosts, ghosts who were once sailors before their ships sank. Sailors who died differently never became ghosts. Uh-oh. Sailor ghosts are the most dangerous kind of ghosts that roam this earth. They travel around, often on sea, and do nothing but drown people. On land, they begin to strangle people until they're barely alive, then drag them underwater and drown them. Wait a second... How did they get the water to drown people? I'd learned about sailor ghosts from GHOSTS AND WHAT TO DO IF YOU MEET THEM (RUN AWAY), but it hadn't said anything about how they got water when they weren't on sea. Suddenly, the bottom of the ship collapsed. I found myself in an underground lake. So THIS was how those ghosts did it! I concentrated on saving my life.

I grabbed a plank of the collapsed floor and pulled, trying to get myself onto the floor of the ship. Slowly, I managed to get myself up. I sat there panting and reading my book to try to find out how you got rid of sailor ghosts. Well. The book said you had to lob pine cones at them. To make matters worse, you have to hit them with ten cones before they vanish, and then they only disappear for six months. Here goes, I thought, and dashed out of the ship. I then began picking up pine cones and throwing them into the ship. After ten minutes, I ventured timidly in to see how many I'd hit. Not bad-- nine of the twenty were gone. I went outside again and picked up ten cones. I came back inside. One! Two! Three! Pop! One of the ghosts disappeared. What? Oh-- I'd hit him seven times already. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Pop! Ha! A ghost I'd hit three times. Run out side, gather more pine cones, run back in. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Pop! Run outside, gather more pine cones, run back in. Over and over. Finally, finally, the ghosts were gone, and the ship disappeared with a Pop!

My mother met me at the door, frowning, her hands on her hips.

"You're late!" she snapped. "It's 3:15!! Where've you been?"

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you."

"Try me,” she said.

"Alright, I will." I told her everything. She didn't believe me, and
grounded me for a month. Stupid old ghosts.

All this happened a week ago. I've spent my grounded time so far writing this (heh, heh heh, don't tell my mother I've been sneaking downstairs at night and using the computer!). I've also been preparing myself for five months and three weeks from now, when I'll have to get rid of the ghosts again. I don't want to be responsible for any innocent civilian drownings.

The End

Now, For Your Reading Pleasure . . .

Tales of Adventure presents one of the two Grand Prize-winning stories. Enjoy!

I JUST LOVE THESE RELAXING VACATIONS

By Hazel

Other people’s names are changed, but nothing else is.

It starts when I flag down the taxi. Everything’s normal, except that the driver really, really needs a shave, more than I think they usually seem to. I get in, give him the address of the mall where I’m supposed to meet my friend Angie, but then he starts driving in the wrong direction, and cackles when I ask what the heck he’s doing. Something’s wrong, I think. I start banging on the window and screaming. He hits me in the head, and I black out. Where in the world are the police when you need them?

The next thing I know, we’re pulling up in the alley behind an abandoned warehouse. Another man comes out and opens the car door. He pulls me out, but I’m kicking and screaming like crazy. He pulls my arms behind my back, and I can’t break free. I kick him in the shins as hard as I can, and then I wham my head into his nose. Now he lets go, and I run. But the first man has gotten out of the car, and catches me by my hair. That is definitely not playing fair. They drag me inside. There’s a woman leaning against the wall, smoking. She seems familiar. Then I realize that she’s the creepy-looking woman who’s been hanging around my school lately. With a gasp, I recognize the smell of her smoke from the description in a drug awareness class we had in school. She’s smoking marijuana!

One of the men says, “We got her,” and she says, “It’s about time, Seth.” Then Seth says, “Where should we put her?”

“Oh, upstairs somewhere.”

The other man cuts in. “I still think we should lock her in the car outside.”

“Yeah, right, and leave her the keys, too, huh?”

“Ok, ok, you don’t have to be so rude,” he grumbles.

“Yeah he does,” says the woman. “Really, Andrew, you ought to know that by now.”

Seth drags me upstairs, and I bruise his shins several times along the way. Then he flings me into an empty room and locks the door. I fall down and bang my head on the wall. I mean, jeepers creepers, are they trying to give me a brain concussion?!?
I realize he’s taken my purse.

Brilliant.
Now there’s no way I can escape.

I bang on the door and yell, “Hey, give me back my purse! It has all my make-up in it! I neeeeeed my make-up!”
Not what you were expecting, huh?
Well, just keep waiting.

Andrew comes and throws it at me, saying, “Here, take it. Gee, how dumb do you think we are? Did we think we wouldn’t search it?”

“I think you’re very dumb,” I say. “And what’s more, you’re a terrible kidnapper. I don’t think you even realize what you forgot.”

“What?” There’s a note of panic in his voice. “Tell me!”

“Hahaha! Like I’d ever tell! How dumb do you think I am?” Then I run past him into the hall, but Seth has come up, and he grabs me and yells, “Marjorie, she’s escaping!”

“Well, bash her head in. Why are you telling me?” is the reply. Seth and Andrew stuff me back in the room and go downstairs. An argument starts.

“What do you mean, ‘why are you telling me?’ Are you nuts or something? This whole thing was your idea!”

“I just wanted to get rich, Seth. You’re the criminals. I have nothing to do with it. The cops have nothing on me, I’m just your wife.”

“Oh, so if we’re caught, you’re gonna lay all the blame on us? That’s nice!”

“Oh, stop it, Seth. I’ll call her parents and ask for ransom.”

I decide they’re occupied for a while and open my purse. I get out the book that will be most useful to me, Getting Hot Boys. I open it up to the hidden box I’ve cut in the pages inside and take out my cell phone. Hee, hee, hee! They never guessed. I have the coolest kit in my purse. But when I try to call the police, a big NO SERVICE appears on the screen. Jeepers creepers, how far out of the city am I? I wonder where I am, period. I take my jackknife out of the box, fold out the screwdriver, and take a heating vent out of the floor and then use the knife blade to cut through the duct and ceiling below. They’re really old and flimsy, and I have a good knife. Now I can see downstairs. I grab my phone. Even if I can’t call the police, I can still take pictures with it. I get a shot of each of the kidnappers to show the police later. Then I turn it off to save the battery.

There’s a shriek downstairs. “Seth! Get over here! They’re saying she’s still at home!”

By listening in to their shouting match, I realize they thought I was Hazel Fitzimmons, a really rich girl at my school who looks kind of like me, but I’m Hazel Fitzwilliam. Marjorie comes charging up the stairs and flings open the door. She grabs me by my hair and screeches, “Who are you? How can we get hold of your parents? How could you DO THIS TO US????”

“Get off me! What are you talking about?”

“You’re not that rich girl! What are we gonna doooo?”

I refuse to give them my phone number or anything, and eventually Seth and Andrew take her downstairs to try to calm her down, because she’s having hysterics.

I spend a few days there, planning my escape and eating the pbj sandwiches they give me, which are truly nasty. At least I don’t have allergies to worry about.
Lucky for me the stone of the walls is rough.

A couple of days later, I’m off! I’ve wiped a whole lot of jam off my sandwiches the past few days, and now I smear it on some floorboards and pry them up with my jackknife. I stick them to the window and hit it as hard as I can. The idea is for the glass to break and stick to the jam, so it doesn’t fall down and make a lot of noise, but I can’t break it.
Brilliant.

I take the boards off and pull up the heating vent again. I throw it at the window and it goes crashing out in a beautiful shower of broken glass. I run to the window and see Andrew lying on the ground, out cold, the vent lying by his head. Hooray! If only it were Seth. I climb down the wall, seriously encumbered by my purse. I have just started sneaking away from the wall when a huge, vicious looking dog comes running at me, snarling. I’m really sorry, but I have no idea how I manage to run back to the wall and get twenty feet up before the dog gets there. Seth has heard, and he comes running out. He pulls out a gun and fires at me. I just love these relaxing vacations, don’t you? I manage to get up on the roof without getting killed, and then I start running and leap to the next roof. Seth and Marjorie come pounding up the stairs, and before I’m three roofs away, they come out on the roof of the first building. She’s armed too, and fires at me. She’s a terrible shot. I keep running, and they run after me. I land on a roof with a huge colony of moldy chimneys on it, and, hidden by them, climb down the wall and in a window. A minute later, I can hear them crashing around above me, saying things like, “Where is she? She disappeared.”

Idiots.
When they leave, I lie down and try to sleep.

When I wake up, it’s night. I decide not to risk climbing down the wall in the dark, and try to find a staircase inside. I find one, but it’s in really bad condition, and I have to test each step before putting weight on it. I climb out a window on the bottom floor and consult my compass. The kidnappers didn’t get it because it’s hidden inside a pink compact, and they didn’t look inside.

My kit also includes gum, a sewing kit in a lipstick tube, a penlight that looks for all the world like a pen, various first-aid supplies in make-up containers, a cutesy pink note book and cutesy pink pen in which I take important notes, an expired credit card to open doors, a book, Getting Hot Boys, with a secret box inside for my knife and cell phone, and a roll of duct tape disguised as “Mecko The Gecko’s Re-Decko-Ating Tape (for use on windowsills, doorframes, etc.) style number: 65783943, style: Pretty in Pink”. I had to use pink duct tape, but I think it will work just as well.

When Seth first drove off in the taxi, we were going south, so the best I can do is walk north. The first population I see in this area takes the form of a rat the size of a dog and his cat-sized friends. The first human population leers at me and makes me severely uneasy. After walking for a couple hours, fast, but not too fast (I hope), it begins to turn into morning. A few hours after that, after (in my paranoid mind, at least) narrowly escaping mugging and worse seven and a half times, I see Andrew hurrying down the deserted street, with a tremendous lump on his head. Ha! Serve him right! I try to get away without attracting attention, but he spots me and starts running and yelling at the top of his lungs. I run, but I’m looking over my shoulder at him, and I run right into Marjorie and hurt my nose. She grabs my arm, digging into it with her red fingernails. She’s a lot stronger than she looks, and jeepers creepers, can she ever screech loud! Seth comes running and grabs me from behind. I swing around and he bashes his head on a wall. He groans and slumps to the ground. I kick Marjorie as hard as I can, and then Andrew tries to help her. I’m not really sure how it happens, but he trips and lands with his head on a brick. He’s out cold, too. I tie them up with my duct tape.

I can barely stop laughing when I think of a guy like Seth, lying on the ground, trussed up in Pretty in Pink Re-Decko-Ating Tape.
Then I realize Marjorie’s disappeared.
Brilliant.
I say that a lot.

My nose is bleeding from the fight, but I keep walking. Then I get this creepy I-am-being-watched feeling, and I realize that Marjorie can track me by the blood I’m dripping. I start squeezing my nose, and suddenly I see Marjorie running towards me. I scream and run away, and come out on a much more crowded street, just as a bus is pulling up. I jump on, and Marjorie falls down, so I get away. (Let this be a lesson to you: don’t chase people while wearing stiletto heels.)

The bus pulls away from the curb and as soon as I’ve paid, I sink down on one of the seats with a sigh. Everyone is staring at me, and I realize how filthy I am, not to mention that you can still tell I had a nosebleed. I get off a couple stops later, and find a bus that will take me home. On the walk between the bus stop and home, I find a poster my parents must have made, telling everyone I’m missing. I take it with me as a souvenir. When I get home, I call the police and tell them I’m back, also that Seth and Andrew are tied up in tape, and my guess as to where it was. When they let me get off the phone, I call my mother’s cell phone. She’s walking around the neighborhood, looking for me, and when she realizes it’s me, she screams and comes charging home with my father. The police find Seth and Andrew, and later Marjorie, and now they want to come and talk to me and see the pictures I took , the newspaper wants to talk to me, all my friends want to make sure it’s really me, and it’s 2:45 in the morning before I get to take a shower.

THE END

Hello? Anyone Out There?

Udontneed2knowmyname--got your comments! (But can't figure out which post they're linked to.) And yes, Kiki would be up for it! Comment here for more info.

And The Grand Prize Winner Is . . .

Congratulations, Hazel (aka Buyer Madonna)! Your two stories were both favorites with the judges. As one judge said about SAILOR GHOSTS, "It's one of the few stories that's made me shiver AND nearly pee my pants with laughter." Her favorite part of the story? A handy book entitled "Ghosts and What to Do if You Meet Them (Run Away)."

But for everyone's reading pleasure, we will be sharing your second story (I JUST LOVE THESE RELAXING VACATIONS). Even Kiki Strike could learn a thing or two from you! (The judges were particularly fond of the pink duct tape.)

Your story will be posted tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Hazel and all the finalists, make sure to write in and claim your FABULOUS PRIZES!

The Finalists Are . . .

Like I said earlier, three judges, three totally different lists of winners. (And one big argument.) The following six contestants took either first or second place on someone's list. (One judge insisted on a tie for first place.) Their stories were all amazing, so each of the finalists will be the recipient of a special prize.

To all the other contestants, it was a pleasure reading your TALES OF ADVENTURE! Thanks for entering!


(The finalists, in no particular order.)


MOST BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN STORY

This award goes to International Mastermind, who had us hooked from her very first sentence, "And the head rolled to Amy's feet." Her story started wonderfully, ended wonderfully, and kept the judges on the edge of their seats in the meantime!


MOST TERRIFYING CAUTIONARY TALE

Claire Maine-inn takes this prize. Her account of breaking into a deserted school in search of adventure had the judges reading with their hands over their eyes. (Which isn't easy!) We're all so glad you and your friends made it out alive!


MOST TANTALIZING CLIFFHANGER

Pearl's tale of a shifty neighbor with possible Mob ties left all the judges dying for more. Pearl, you MUST tell us what happened with Tony! Keeping it a secret would be horribly cruel.


MOST REMARKABLE TRUE-LIFE STORY

Spring's life is apparently too exciting for fiction. (If only the rest of us were so lucky!) After reading about her near encounter with a real-life burglar, the judges are all still sleeping with the lights on.


MOST INVENTIVE TALE

L. Harder, somewhere there's a judge who's furious that you didn't win top prize. Your story of a painting haunted by a sinister ghost really was one of the most exciting stories, ever. You have a truly bizarre imagination--and we hope you put it to good use writing more stories.


MOST DELIGHTFUL CHARACTERS

Ghosts, sleuthing skills, and hippies. Lovelenaxanoria's story had it all. But above all, the judges really loved the characters you created. They seemed wonderfully real--particularly the know-it-all little brother. He should have his own series of books!

We Apologize for the Delay

Update on Tales of Adventure! Right now there's a three-way tie, and the judges are trying to agree on a single winner. (Let's hope it doesn't turn bloody.) The results will be posted at 8PM Eastern time.

Tales of Adventure Contest: Meet Your Judges!

Happy Day of the Dead, everyone! Today's the day that the winner of the Tales of Adventure Contest will be announced. We received over 20 spine-tingling entries, which we read by candlelight for added effect. I, for one, haven't been able to sleep for a week!

Before we share the winning entry later today, I think it's important to introduce our esteemed judges . . .

Ms. Kirsten Miller. If you don't know who she is, you might be on the wrong blog.

Ms. Darcy Devine: femme fatal, amateur spelunker, and professional monkey wrangler. (With a name like that, you know she's had an adventure or two!)

Mr. Ace Daly: renowned male model and creative genius.

All judges have been instructed to choose the most THRILLING story. No points were deducted for spelling mistakes.

GOOD LUCK TO ALL CONTESTANTS!