Jack-o-Lantern Ideas

Carving Jack-o-Lanterns is one of my favorite Halloween activities. Sometimes I get tired of the same old designs. Here are some new designs that are bound to turn heads.


They'll either sue you or pay you.	The leaning tower of Pisa Rocks!

Skeletons always dance with Viking Cellos.	A ghost with inappropriate celtic border.

Bat-cat with Marge Simpson 'do'.

Spooky Poem Spotlight

'Porphyria's Lover' by Robert Browning

The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
and did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me--she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew

While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!

Halloween Makeover

Because I enjoy fixing pictures to make them better, I decided the world deserved a special Halloween Makeover. It occured to me that no one has ever done a spoof of "American Gothic" by Grant Wood. Well, here you are!

Parenting at Halloween

How to Spare Your Children from the Evils of Harry Potter

We all know the Harry Potter books are truly evil writ penned by the Devil's hands. Like most of Satan's work, people love it. The wicked Harry Potter stories are just as popular as some of Beelzebub's other handiwork: alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, halter tops, Will and Grace and the myth of Global Warming. There are three ways you as a parent can stop your children from becoming Harry-Potter-lovin'-devil-worshippin'-witches!

First, don't let them read any of the books, see the movies or play with children who have. That may seem extreme to segregate them from other children. Would you let your kids play with someone who had cholera or some kind of flesh eating retrovirus? JK Rowling sold her soul so her books would spread the world like an evil cancer. You, as a parent, must be that cancer's chemotherapy.

Second, don't let them study Latin. You see, all the spells in the books are in Latin. Witchcraft was one of the evils brought into the world by the Roman Empire. The mother of romance languages will not only spawn satanic rituals, it will also turn your kids snobby and probably make them study other Liberal Arts. Remember, no Latin = no witchcraft!

Third, celebrate Holyween this year. Instead of dressing your kids up in godless pagan style, keep them home where they can wear ascetic clothes, read scriptures, pray, sing unpretentious hymns and perform self-flagellation. Holyween: like Halloween without the abomination.

It takes a lot of work to keep the diabolical whispers of Harry Potter out of your home, but it's more than worth it. When your children are shielded from the fiery pits of hell, they'll thank you. This October, shun Potter and have a Happy...Holyween!

Tales of Mild Terror

Swamp Road

Julie always drove home in the dark. She always drove on Swamp Road. She grew accustomed to navigating the obsolete highway without thinking. Her blue sedan knew all the curves and dips in the road. Her friends always told her she was crazy to drive on that old road.

"Girl, the interstate go right past yo' house. Why you always drivin' on that creepy ass road." DaYondra always said.

There were virtually no roadside houses, just miles and miles of swamp, thus the name. There were rarely other drivers, most people disliked all of the sharp turns. Julie enjoyed the isolation. After a long shift at the hospital where she worked as a nurse, she wanted to be away from other people. This was especially true today. It was Halloween and she was sick of all the costumes and zaniness.

"Ahhh. I am, like, so tired of sick people! Especially sick people in costumes!" she said to herself as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "I'm going home and, like, not answering the door for stupid trick-or-treater kids. I'm just going to watch Gilmore Girls."

Julie's car rolled by the last gas station on the main road before turning on to the old Swamp Road. "$3.16 a gallon!" her inner voiced screamed. Normally, because she was a women, she never noticed the price of gas or how many gallons her tank held or what her last MPG average was. Today, however, this upset her.

A small economy size car pulled out of the station as she passed by and it followed her onto Swamp Road. It was the first time in a long time that anyone else had been on the road with her. The car stayed close behind. At first, it annoyed her. Eventually she began to ignore the two glimmering headlights in her rear view mirror.

Suddenly, everything changed. She was jolted out of her alpha-state-mindless-driving-trance into reality when the car behind her flashed its brights. And again a few seconds later. Again. Once more.

"What's the dealio, freakwad?!?" she said to herself, and presumably to the driver of the other car.

The brights flashed again. Julie was starting to become agitated and apprehensive.

"OMG!" she thought. "Like, why is this guy flashing his brights? It's totally creeping me out. He's going to, like, throw me in a pit and make me put on lotion all the time and then, like, cut my skin off and wear it over his skin. Just like in that movie. What was it called...Savannah Smiles?"

Julie began to tremble. Her fear grew exponentially with each passing second. She decided to turn on the stereo and listen to her Spice Girls CD. The Spice Girls always made her feel better. Not this time. The flashing continued. Then came honking. Julie was going crazy, she was sweating and began crying hysterically.

She pulled the car over into the swampy median, leaped from the driver's seat and began running. The car behind her pulled over in the same fashion and a tall menacing figure emerged, quickly following her. She turned and went directly into the swamp, keeping a watchful eye on the man in pursuit. A low hanging branch caught her in the mouth and she fell on the spongy ground. The tall man crouched over her and she could taste the blood that had begun running over her lips.

"Please don't kill me!" she cried.

"Kill you?" he questioned. "I'm trying to save you."

"What?!?!" she asked with shock and amazement.

"There was someone in the back seat of your car. He had an axe. Every time he raised it up to kill you, I flashed my brights. Then he would crouch back down and hide."

"Bizarro! Thanks. But, like, wait a minute. If he was in my car, that means he's out here somewhere."

Both looked cautiously in the immediate area. "NOOOOO!" Julie screamed. The last thing she saw was the moonlight reflected off the axe blade that went through her chest.

The killer never wore her skin. He just fed her to his hunting dogs. His dogs also ate that guy who was trying to help her.