Did you know that's based on actual events? A low-income housing project in Chicago was built with removable medicine cabinets. The feature allowed for easy access to plumbing, for repairs. However, residents found they could pull he cabinets and access adjacent units. A series of murders resulted. Clive just sexed up the actual events, but it's all real.
I have a story to tell you about wood bore bees and a kid at school getting a black eye from them running into his face. Also, it ends with accidentally having a live bee inside an art piece.
I was just working through a rough, teenaged memory of being besieged by fleas right after having my appendix cut out. One of the last "long incisions" in that town's hospital, right before they switched to the machine method that only leaves tiny holes.
I still haven't seen Misery but I'm guessing there were a few, tiny parallels. The fleas made everything SO much worse.
That's an awesome horror story right there. The fleas are eating the bandages and scabs and opening the wound over and over and youre dousing yourself in chemicals and have flea collars strapped all over you.
And Misery is amazing. Very much worth your time. I read the beginning of the book recently. It was nearly all big voice musings. It was good, but very different from what we are being taught.
I've often wondered about that slot and what must be down there. Can you share a picture?
I once saw a giant spider spin a wieb in front of a big patio light. Spider was a genius I thought. The web became completely filled with a mat of dying insects with no space for additional victims. Ultimately, it collapsed under it's own weight.
In the 80s the underage dance club in Portland was The Metro. More recently I went to photographer's studio in a familiar building. I asked the owner, "Did this used to be The Metro?" Forty years ago, it had been that cavernous club. The current owner talked about remodeling and how they pulled down some Sheetrock to find thousands of syringes that had been dropped through a very small hole over the years. The space between the studs was packed with them. Another slowly accumulating horror.
Incredible visual. Something about blossoming sexuality within the confines of used needle insulation. I wonder how many of those syringes were someone’s last jab.
I wonder who those guys were who used all those blades. What they did for a living. If they were pissed when one of their blades got lost. If they were in which wars and if they thought about the war while shaving. How many faces stared into that bathroom mirror.
I always dreaded the basement. The musty smell, the dead insects, the cobwebs clinging to long forgotten boxes.
On a chilly autumn day, I required a tool from the ancient workbench in the basement. A ball formed in my throat. Be brave. I crept down to the dank cellar and hastily shuffled over to the bench. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them. I froze, holding my breath in case they could hear me and my racing heart.
As I slowly turned my head, I could see the extent of the carnage in the dimly lit alcove. At least twenty dead mice were scattered around the cold concrete. No time to think about them or where they came from. I grabbed my channel lock and scurried back upstairs, slamming the door behind me.
Finding dead mice inside is not abnormal, but where did so many come from? What drove them all into the cellar from the outside world, and what could have made them all pass away at what surely was the same moment? Could the ghost have done it?
Days later, I was building up the courage to go back down, to clean up the carcasses before they all go to rot. It had to be done. After donning my worn leather gloves, I grabbed a few plastic bags to hold the remains for the trash and crept down the stairs.
As I reached the workbench, I steadied myself to see all the wretched bodies once again. Turning on a shop light to make sure I clean up all of the mice, I found that they had all changed. Looking out across the floor, all I saw were curled up brown leaves.
True story. I had a good laugh over finding out a storm window had come open and some leaves blew in, probably from when I was using the blower to clean up the back patio. Creeped the hell out of me when I first found them.
I had a similar experience. I was cleaning under my bed and found a bunch of used balled-up tissues filled with old semen. I think I discovered a new galaxy. I wonder if this means I'm a god. If I am God, should I smite the semen-people living in the tissue?
My wife and I recently bought a farm that dates back roughly 125 years. Let me tell you, old farm houses and barns a FULL of hidden horrors (made 10x worse by the fact that so many lives have come and gone here, both human and animal).
While I was writing 'Rant' friends of mine told me about people in the Midwest regularly finding rolls and jars of gold coins stashed around derelict farms. It seems old farmers didn't trust banks, but those farmers often died before retrieving their savings. It was such a good trend story I wrote it into the novel.
I know of several farmers who wear the same old overalls and some free 5k t shirt everyday, they drive an old beat up truck, and are worth millions. Hyper conservative. Never spend anything.
Im certain that every single one has a hidden cash stash too. Im the same way, but Im not telling anyone where my hidey hole is.
Most recently we came across a jar with some gnarly teeth in it that weren't like anything I've ever seen before. Turns out they were "wolf teeth" from horses (a set of teeth that horses have extracted so a bit can fit more comfortably in their mouths). No idea why anyone would save them, but there were like 30 teeth in there. Haven't found any jars of gold coins yet, but now you've got me hoping...
Horror in every day items...you mean like soap?😉
"Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I have ever met."
Chilling but sort of mesmerising.
Exactly. Good horror is fascinating. That said, my favorite weekly go-to is Fascinating Horror.
https://www.youtube.com/@FascinatingHorror
As soon as you mentioned medicine cabinet I thought of Barker’s ‘Candy Man’
Did you know that's based on actual events? A low-income housing project in Chicago was built with removable medicine cabinets. The feature allowed for easy access to plumbing, for repairs. However, residents found they could pull he cabinets and access adjacent units. A series of murders resulted. Clive just sexed up the actual events, but it's all real.
Wonder if it was the same towers that they tore down a few years ago, which was a factor in the escalating violence in Chi?
That is the most horrifying visual.
Thank you.
Picture of the razor blade beehive?
Yes please
Alas, it was the era before camera phones.
Could you sketch what it looked like 😳?
This is something really good for me to think about for some of my current stories that I am working on. Thank you.
I need some wasp traps. And I need to invent chigger traps. The evil little perverts. I am become itch.
If you find a nest, put some gasoline in a cup and then place the cup around the nest. Problem will be soon solved
Thats a great way to get stung by returning wasps. They love running into me like little battering rams, but I havent been stung by one in years.
I have a story to tell you about wood bore bees and a kid at school getting a black eye from them running into his face. Also, it ends with accidentally having a live bee inside an art piece.
Im listening...
I was just working through a rough, teenaged memory of being besieged by fleas right after having my appendix cut out. One of the last "long incisions" in that town's hospital, right before they switched to the machine method that only leaves tiny holes.
I still haven't seen Misery but I'm guessing there were a few, tiny parallels. The fleas made everything SO much worse.
That's an awesome horror story right there. The fleas are eating the bandages and scabs and opening the wound over and over and youre dousing yourself in chemicals and have flea collars strapped all over you.
And Misery is amazing. Very much worth your time. I read the beginning of the book recently. It was nearly all big voice musings. It was good, but very different from what we are being taught.
Eyeing my big/little relationships in my works. Trying to find that balance!
I've often wondered about that slot and what must be down there. Can you share a picture?
I once saw a giant spider spin a wieb in front of a big patio light. Spider was a genius I thought. The web became completely filled with a mat of dying insects with no space for additional victims. Ultimately, it collapsed under it's own weight.
I really want to see your tetanus loaf sculpture.
How delightfully unsettling
These hidden horrors often aggregate through self-neglect. It can be the lump on your testicle or the weird smell coming from under your mattress.
In the 80s the underage dance club in Portland was The Metro. More recently I went to photographer's studio in a familiar building. I asked the owner, "Did this used to be The Metro?" Forty years ago, it had been that cavernous club. The current owner talked about remodeling and how they pulled down some Sheetrock to find thousands of syringes that had been dropped through a very small hole over the years. The space between the studs was packed with them. Another slowly accumulating horror.
Incredible visual. Something about blossoming sexuality within the confines of used needle insulation. I wonder how many of those syringes were someone’s last jab.
Unknowingly I nearly ate a horsefly that l was drowning in my can of beer. Groooosss. lol
I've done that lol
I wonder who those guys were who used all those blades. What they did for a living. If they were pissed when one of their blades got lost. If they were in which wars and if they thought about the war while shaving. How many faces stared into that bathroom mirror.
The mirror image is incredible.
I always dreaded the basement. The musty smell, the dead insects, the cobwebs clinging to long forgotten boxes.
On a chilly autumn day, I required a tool from the ancient workbench in the basement. A ball formed in my throat. Be brave. I crept down to the dank cellar and hastily shuffled over to the bench. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them. I froze, holding my breath in case they could hear me and my racing heart.
As I slowly turned my head, I could see the extent of the carnage in the dimly lit alcove. At least twenty dead mice were scattered around the cold concrete. No time to think about them or where they came from. I grabbed my channel lock and scurried back upstairs, slamming the door behind me.
Finding dead mice inside is not abnormal, but where did so many come from? What drove them all into the cellar from the outside world, and what could have made them all pass away at what surely was the same moment? Could the ghost have done it?
Days later, I was building up the courage to go back down, to clean up the carcasses before they all go to rot. It had to be done. After donning my worn leather gloves, I grabbed a few plastic bags to hold the remains for the trash and crept down the stairs.
As I reached the workbench, I steadied myself to see all the wretched bodies once again. Turning on a shop light to make sure I clean up all of the mice, I found that they had all changed. Looking out across the floor, all I saw were curled up brown leaves.
True story. I had a good laugh over finding out a storm window had come open and some leaves blew in, probably from when I was using the blower to clean up the back patio. Creeped the hell out of me when I first found them.
I had a similar experience. I was cleaning under my bed and found a bunch of used balled-up tissues filled with old semen. I think I discovered a new galaxy. I wonder if this means I'm a god. If I am God, should I smite the semen-people living in the tissue?
😂
My wife and I recently bought a farm that dates back roughly 125 years. Let me tell you, old farm houses and barns a FULL of hidden horrors (made 10x worse by the fact that so many lives have come and gone here, both human and animal).
Tell. I want specifics.
While I was writing 'Rant' friends of mine told me about people in the Midwest regularly finding rolls and jars of gold coins stashed around derelict farms. It seems old farmers didn't trust banks, but those farmers often died before retrieving their savings. It was such a good trend story I wrote it into the novel.
I know of several farmers who wear the same old overalls and some free 5k t shirt everyday, they drive an old beat up truck, and are worth millions. Hyper conservative. Never spend anything.
Im certain that every single one has a hidden cash stash too. Im the same way, but Im not telling anyone where my hidey hole is.
Most recently we came across a jar with some gnarly teeth in it that weren't like anything I've ever seen before. Turns out they were "wolf teeth" from horses (a set of teeth that horses have extracted so a bit can fit more comfortably in their mouths). No idea why anyone would save them, but there were like 30 teeth in there. Haven't found any jars of gold coins yet, but now you've got me hoping...
This is incredibly fascinating