HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I'M SO EXCITED! Halloween is my FAVORITE holiday! I'm going to be a Secret Agent with my bestie, Carrie. I wanted to be a secret agent since last year, and mom my said no to wearing the dress i wanted. I thought all hope was lost, but alas! I (along with the genius mind of Carrie) came up with another way to be the rocking secret Agents i wanted to be. Anyway lets get the party started with some Halloween MUSIC!Below is a video with music on it. I'm not smart enough to figure out how to play a MIDI file, so i put music in a long video. With every new song, there is a new picture, so maybe that will help with finding one you like.There is also a little "table of contents" by the video so you can skip to a song you want to hear. Hope it works out :)

Little Shop of Horrors   0:00-3:27

Monster Mash   3:27-7:11

Addams Family Theme   7:11-8:36

Superstition     8:36-12:07

This is Halloween    12:07-15:24

Anyway, what were you guys for Halloween? I really want to know! If you have a blog PLEASE post some rockin' picture. I don't have a picture, but Carrie will (hopefully) put them on her blog, so i can snatch them from her ;)  Did i mention Halloween is my favorite holiday?! I love autumn in general, but i already addressed that on my candy post. 

Redundant huh? Hmmmm...

Homecoming! I went to homecoming yesterday and it was HOPPIN'! Tons o' fun, although there was a bit too much bumpin' and grindin' for my style. And really, one slow-dance? Come on, give me a break. Plus the slow dance was the last song too, so whats up with that? OK, brightening things up, let tell a little...

Ghost Stories!

An excerpt from Spooky Montana

retold by S.E. Schlosser

I found it extremely annoying that one of the bathrooms on my dorm was permanently closed. Especially since the cause was an urban legend. An urban legend, I tell you! According to the story, years and years ago some bloke got himself massively drunk at a bar in downtown Helena and had passed out in the bathroom on the fourth floor. Apparently, he hit his head on the sink as he fell, and his blood had spattered the sink as he slid senseless to the floor and silently hemorrhaged to death. His death was considered a “sad accident” by faculty, staff and townspeople. But that was no reason to shut up the bathroom for decades! I completely discounted the story of the bleeding sink. That was just an urban legend the students circulated to explain the locked door.

“I’m sick of sharing a bathroom with you disgusting lot,” I grumbled to my roommate. “I’m going to break into the fourth-floor bathroom.”
My roommate’s eyes widened. “Don’t you know that bathroom is haunted?” he exclaimed. “The bloodstains on the sink are as fresh today as they were when the accident happened back in the 1960s, and sometimes you can hear the boy moaning as his life ebbs away on the bathroom floor!”
“Romantic twaddle,” I snapped. “My granny lives in a haunted castle in Scotland with ghost stories that would make your hair stand on end. She’d laugh at me if she found out I ignored a perfectly good bathroom because of a few bloodstains. Besides, the maintenance staff told me the bathroom was shut up pending renovations. No big deal!”
“You’ll be sorry,” my roommate said darkly. I ignored him. He was just sore because I’d lumped him in with the disgusting lot of fellows who mucked up the bathroom on my floor. You’d think someone would teach them to pick up their dirty clothes and clean the sink once in awhile.
When the dorm quieted down for the night – which wasn’t until late – I hurried up to the fourth floor with a bit of wire I’d purchased at a local hardware store. My little brother and I had become expert lock-pickers over the years, since our mother had a bad habit of locking her keys into the house or the car at least once a week. With all that experience, the lock on the bathroom door gave me no problems.
The bathroom was rather old-fashioned in appearance and had a disused air. There was dust in the corners, and a spider web drooped from the ceiling. But I heard no unearthly groaning, no mysterious footsteps. I carefully inspected the sink, the walls and the floor. Other than a smallish orange discoloration on the sink, there was no blood anywhere. Ha! So much for urban legends. There was probably something in the water that caused discoloration over time. I turned a tap experimentally, sure that the maintenance staff had shut off the water long ago. To my surprise, water gushed forth instantly. I smiled. Well, well. It looked like I had a bathroom to myself after all! I carefully locked the door behind me when I left.

I got up late the next morning, and had the downstairs bathroom all to myself. So it wasn’t until evening, when everyone was back in the dorm, crowding in and out of the bathrooms, that I slipped away to use the locked up facilities. It was still early in the evening, and I made sure no one was around before I headed to the abandoned bathroom. With a few twists of the wire, I opened the lock. As I stepped inside, the air temperature plummeted twenty degrees or more and my nose was hit by the pungent, strong smell of fresh blood. A second later, I saw the blood-spattered sink.
Bright-red gore was everywhere – on the porcelain, on the walls, oozing down the sides of the sink. And hovering before it, his feet a good six-inches off the ground, was the luminous form of a college-aged boy wearing old-fashioned clothes in the style of the 1960s. His forehead had a disfiguring dent smashed into it, and blood was dripping down his face. As I gaped at him, horrified and frozen in terror, he turned and looked at me. Then he held out a blood-stained hand. His eyes were desperate, pleading for help, and I heard a low moaning sound coming from between his blood-stained lips. The sound raised every hair on my body and made the skin prickle in sheer, cold horror. I backpedaled fiercely, my legs scrambling to get away while my eyes and head remained fixed on the ghost, on the bloody sink. A drop of red blood fell from his outstretched hand as I stared at him. Then the momentum of my legs carried me through the door, which slammed shut behind me, and the hot, pungent smell of fresh blood followed me through the halls and down the staircases until I was outside into the chilly air of autumn, breathing deeply. My knees shook so bad that I fell onto the nearest patch of grass, stomach heaving. Oh lord! The ghost was real! No wonder they kept the place locked up.

I lay on the grass for a long time, ignoring the chill in the air. This was a natural chill which comforted, not that unnatural chill that had frightened me upstairs. I breathed in and out, in and out, watching the stars above me, bright even through the campus lights. I took comfort from the huge, clear expanse of sky. But I still felt reluctant to go back inside that haunted building. I shuddered once, from head to toe. Oh how my granny would laugh if she knew her big brave grandson was too scared to go back inside a haunted dormitory. It was the thought of granny that got me back onto my feet and upstairs to my room. But I didn’t care what granny or anyone else thought of me. I was never going back to the fourth floor bathroom. Once was enough.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Songs with girls names

It;s amazing how many songs have a girls name in it. I mean really, all these songs have made having a song titled after you not-so-special anymore. It kinda sucks. I mean really, check it out:

Alice, Avril Lavigne                                  Maria, Sound of Music
Angela, Bob James                                  Michelle, The Beatles
Angie, The Rolling Stones                        Ms. Robinson, Simon & Garfunkel
Beth, KISS                                       Proud Mary, Creedence Clearwater Revival
Carrie, Cliff Richard                           Rhiannon, Fleetwood Mac
Cecilia, Simon &Garfunkel                      Skin (Sarabeth), Rascal Flatts
Cindy, oh, Cindy, The Beach Boys        Sweet Caroline, Neil Diamond
Gloria, Van Morrison                                                           
Helena, My Chemical Romance
Hey There Delilah, The Plain White Tees
Janie's got a Gun, Aerosmith
Jenny (867-5309), Tommy Tutone
Jessica, The Allman Brothers Band

Its crazy huh? I mean GOSH. I feel bad for the people who DON'T have a song named after them. Its like buying a souvenir mug for someone. You know how they have like, a bazillion names, just not the one your looking for? It sucks. BTW, these songs are all pretty good. I especially like Beth, Cecilia, Helena, Jenny (867-5309), Maria, Michelle, Rhiannon, and Skin (SaraBeth). The song titles are each links to a youtube video so you can listen to the song!

STORY SUNDAY #3!!!

Untill Somebody Gets Hurt...

Kevin Jordice was walking home from school on any typical Thursday. Well, it was more like running really. It’s actually a wonder he’s such a slow runner, because he ran home everyday to escape Jones McCarson, a notorious bully. Jones was average height, but thickly built, muscular. On the other hand, Kevin was slightly taller than Jones, but skinny, not an even match. Anyway, Jones McCarson was chasing Kevin, and thankfully, Jones was also slow. But today Jones must have had a Redbull, because he caught up with Kevin, so basically Kevin was dead meat.

Jones slammed Kevin on the concrete sidewalk, and stood above him. Jones leaned over so his face was parallel with Kevin, then spat on Kevin, right in between the eyes. Kevin wiped away the spit, and attempted to stare Jones down. It must not have worked, because Jones just smirked and shoved Kevin’s head into the concrete. Kevin tried to resist the sanding of his face, but Jones was just too strong. When Jones was through grating Kevin’s face, he kicked Kevin in the kidneys. Kevin’s body shrunk as he curled into the fetal position, bracing himself for more abuse. But today, Jones desired a new form of beating was necessary. He was feeling that he should “switch things up.”

Jones picked Kevin up by the shoulders, and threw him onto the grass of the park. While Kevin was recovering from the shock of the throw, Jones picked Kevin up again, and threw him, farther this time. Jones threw Kevin again, and this time, Kevin’s back hit a rock. A loud snap echoed through the trees. After a second of silence, Kevin’s bloodcurdling scream shattered the calm, and Jones’ face fell.

Kevin was taken to the ER. Jones stayed in the waiting room for five hours, waiting for news on Kevin. The hospital staff, who didn’t know who Jones was, began calling him “Kevin’s buddy”. Jones wouldn’t talk to anyone who came up to him. He stared at the floor, not moving, rarely even blinking; when finally a nurse came out and told him Kevin was ok. Jones looked up at the nurse. “Kevin broke a rib. Do you know what happened?” Jones took a moment to answer. He scrunched his eyebrows together, and then told her “No.”

From that day on, Kevin ruled over Jones. From the time Kevin came to school with a torso cast, to several days after the removal of it, Jones carried Kevin’s books. Even if Jones’s classroom was on the other side of the school from where Kevin was, Jones carried Kevin’s books. He brought Kevin’s hot lunch to him when ever Kevin bought. Jones went through a sort of enlightenment. He was no longer loud and obnoxious; he had became silent, pensive. Jones friends stopped talking to him, scared that his behavior might rub off on them.

Then one day, on an ordinary Thursday in January, as Jones was carrying Kevin’s backpack (as well as his own), he told Kevin something. He talked slowly, thinking every word out carefully before he said them.

“Kevin,” he started. Jones had stopped walking, causing Kevin to stop as well. “I just wanted to say,” he thought really hard, and he showed signs of an internal struggle. He stuttered a bit came out, struggling to make them sincere. “I’m sorry.” He looked meaningfully at Kevin, who seemed slightly shocked at this confession. Jones on the other hand had begun looking at the ground intently, as if searching for an answer.

Kevin then smiled, and awkwardly patted Jones on the back. “It’s ok Jones-y. I forgive you.”


ps: HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIGE!

CANDY!

Now, I'm not much of a candy hog. I prefer to space out my consumption of candy, rather than to have a sweets binge. A couple of my candy binge friends know this, because they are amazed at the amount of candy I can store from the holidays. But sometimes, I do candy binge, but only on certain sweets. So, i would like to present to you...

My favorite candy!

1. Haribo Alphabet letter Gummy Candy.                  2. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

    

                                                  3. Nestle Crunch bar

  

4. Whoppers, the Original Malted Milk Ball

                                                          5. Sour Skittles

That's about it for my favorite candies. A pretty varied list, no? A little trivia, Haribo gummy candies actually originated in Germany. They were made by a man named Hans Riegel, and the headquarters are in Bonn. (Haribo, get it? Its an acronym) Haribo is the largest manufacturer of gummy and jelly sweets in the world.  Reese's Peanut Butter Cups were invented by a former dairy farmer and shipping Foreman of Hershey named Harry Burnett Reese. He was inspired by Milton S. Hershey (his boss), so he left the Hershey company and started his own candy business out of his basement. After his death the company was later sold to The Hershey company.Whoppers are also owned by Hershey's. Hershey bought them quite recently in fact, in 1996. There are six different flavors of Whoppers: Original (chocolate), Strawberry, Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, vanilla milkshake, orange milkshake, and blueberry. Personally, I think that a strawberry, blueberry, and orange flavored Whopper is disgusting, as is the Peanut Butter and Vanilla one. Chocolate is the best :)

 There is nothing special about a crunch bar, or skittles really. I thought skittles would have an interesting story, but they really don't. So, yeah. I hope you guys enjoyed my Candy post, and as always REMEMBER STORY SUNDAY!!

 Your buddy,

Rachael

UPDATE: I have recently descovered a love for Almond Joy and Mounds. Just thought you should know, for, like, a christmas gift or something *cough* carrie *cough*.

STORY SUNDAY #2!!!!!

The Stamp Collecting MASTER!

It was a typical day at the Monroe police station in Langweilig Montana. Officer Samson Ingle was counting the stamps in his vast collection. He had been counting for a least an hour, and was barely halfway through his book. The station had been unusually quite that day, and Officer Ingle had been itching to count his stamps all week. He had got to 367 stamps when he got an email. The address was unfamiliar, but the subject intrigued him.

“The location of the 1889 Okeechobee FL”

He had only heard of this from the other collectors from the SCA. It was extremely rare, only 10 left in mint condition, and 7 were in stamp museums. The other three’s location was unknown of; at least, until now. He hastily opened the email, not caring if it had a virus. The introduction of the email was very simple, not at all what he expected. It stated that he had been selected, among others, by the Stamp Collection Masters Society (SCMS) to be given a clue to the location of an1889 Okeechobee FL. Because this stamp is very rare, the society believed that only a true stamp Master should have the opportunity to have this priceless stamp. The introduction went on to verify the authenticity of this email, including a fancy emblem and the signature of the SCMS’s president.
Then, in italics below the introductory paragraph, was the clue:

“Mansion and beacon,

Side by side,

The stone shall weaken

With the tide.

And there you shall find her,

When the light is at eight

You the beasts will deter

A challenge great”

Officer Ingle drank in the whole email. The mere mention of an 1889 Okeechobee sent shivers down the balding officer’s spine. He reread the poem, and then looked at the clock above the coffee machine. Darn, he thought, I still have 7 hours left in the shift. He sat at his desk, fuming. This could be my one chance at finding the 1889 Okeechobee, and here I am, at work. He looked at the clock again, but it was useless. The clock wouldn’t move any faster. He read the poem again. Well, he figured, I’ll just work on decoding this.

He printed out the email and sat it on his desk. At first all he did was stare at the poem, as if an answer would appear on the paper. He wanted another clue, something better than a poem, but the email ended with a “do not reply” tag. After another good look at the poem, he underlined the word “tide” and wrote “by the ocean” next to it. He underlined “when the light is at eight”, and wrote “Eight o’clock in the morning”. Next he opened up his web browser, and typed the entire poem into the search box. There were zero results. Then he typed “beacon” into the search box. It came up with a Wikipedia page, a real estate page, and a link to the Beacon Press, a university, restaurants, theatres, and more. On Wikipedia he found that a beacon was a light house, so he looked up “light house and mansion” in quotes. He found that there were several places with picturesque lighthouse mansion sets. He added “rocks” to the search bar, and came up with better pictures. He wrote down the phone numbers to several places that looked promising.

He started dialing the first number, but then hung up. What would he tell them? That he was looking for a stamp? He could ask them about the history of the place, or how it was at 8 am. He could ask if any stamp collectors had come around recently. He wrote down these questions, and then called the first place.

Out of the 14 places he had written down, the first 4 numbers were disconnected. Six places had been very recently built, and three places had been torn down. The last place he called, The Old Treasure Inn, had been around for 200 years, and the concierge said that she had booked a room for a stamp collector just an hour ago. What a find! He thought. He thanked the woman repeatedly, and told her he would be calling back soon. He looked at the clock, and hour and a half had passed.

Officer Ingle was too giddy about the 1889 Okeechobee FL stamp to be upset about the lingering hours. He thought about when he would be able to go the Old Treasure Inn. He didn’t have the kids this weekend, and Monday was Lief Erikson day, so the whole station got a day off. It was only Thursday, so if he took a sick day Friday, then he would have four days to search. Officer Ingle then thought about the journey. The Old Treasure Inn was in Bridgeport Canada, a long 600 miles away. The White Knight (the nickname his gave his crappy white1987 Toyota Supra) couldn’t handle a journey like that. He would have to rent a car, or maybe borrow a friend’s car. Either way, he had a plan, a motive, and a prize waiting on the other side. He dialed the number to the Old Treasure Inn and thought to himself, I guess today’s my lucky day.

To Be Continued...

maybe...

 

Rachael

Halloween Decorations!

A ghost hung from the tree house



Today my mom and I stayed home to put up Halloween decorations! Halloween is my favorite holiday, and Fall is my favorite season. In honor of Halloween I am putting a new background! I love Halloween more than Christmas or my birthday. The Candy, costumes, and the smells (pumpkin & cinnamon baby, pumpkin and cinnamon) just bring joy to my heart. So for the past year or so my family never put up Halloween decorations. It always made me really sad, because I thought we were losing tradition. One year I tried to put the decorations up by myself, but It wasn't as much fun, and they didn't look as good. But this year, My mom decided we would put up the decorations! We got pretty creative with some of them, especially the witch.  

A witch who crashed into a fence

The witch was defiantly the most fun to put up, and it took a while. We used some scraps of fabric for the cape and skirt, then we got some rain boots from an old firefighter costume. OOH, getting off topic, but do you guys keep your old costumes? We do at my house. Back on topic, we got our normal broom for her broom, and a hat from an old witches costume as her hat. a pair of REALLY old gloves for her hands, and shoved sticks and stuff in them. We kept the whole thing up with thumb tacks and other tacks. Your gonna have to guess how we made a body!

We didn't get to finish decorations for the house and stuff, but I will probably do that tomorrow or later today. So tell me, how are you guys enjoying your October? I'm having a ball, loving the cold (no sarcasm intended. I really do like cold weather). Can't wait for November to roll around, another awesome month. comment how your lifes going, and what your favorite holiday & season are!

Rachael

ps: REMEMBER STORY SUNDAY!! I'M LOOKING AT YOU JESS & CARRIE!!

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Click me if you want to laugh!!

STORY SUNDAY!



Don't Fall Asleep in class!

AP world history was, honest to god, the most boring subject ever invented. Joe though it must have been invented by the gods just to bore him, and him only. He would much rather be playing Farmville (hey, his strawberries needed to be harvested, ok?), but instead he was stuck in Professor Johnson's AP World history class. It didn't help that Professor Johnson was also the most boring teacher in the world either. He also couldn't escape to the solace of sleeping like he did in most of his other classes either. Professor Johnson had made it clear that if he caught you asleep in his class, you would be kicked out of class and fail. So he was basically tortured for 90 minutes on a regular basis. He usually deals with the torture as best he can, but on this particular Tuesday, it was just too much for him. He had pulled an all nighter last night, and has missed breakfast because of it. His body was running on vapors, and thick, stuffy ones at that. If only he could rest his eyes for a minute...

Tap. What was that? Thought Joe, who was fully engulfed in a dream about eating a t-bone steak. Tap. Tap. Rattaa-tap-tap. All at once, Joe realized what it was. Dreading what was to happen, he slowly raised his head from his arm cocoon on his desk. He said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Amen."

That was my story for Story Sunday! I hoped you liked it! It was based off a story my government teacher told us to help better explain the concept of freedom of religion. Of course i twisted stuff and added names. But really in the end, Joe is cool because you are allowed to pray in school. 

Rachael

 Ps. Yesterday (oct 9) was Leif Erikson Day! Celebrate it like a sponge!

Plus, they found a Renesmee Cullen!  Her name is Mackenzie Foy I definatly think she looks the part!

EWWW!!!

Can You Guess What Fast Food Treat This Is?

PS: Remember Story Sunday!

Out-Smart your teachers

Have you ever gotten really mad at a problem your teacher gave you? Maybe it was worded incorrectly, or missing something? Or perhaps there was too much info? Have you ever wanted to put a really snotty answer, like this:

I know how you feel. Right now I'm doing my homework and am steaming from the bad questions. Take this one for example: Jada throws a rock horizontally from a bridge 32m above the water, which hits the water approximately 25m from a point directly below the bridge. Show that Jada's tossing speed was about 10 m/s. So, what are they asking? If I was a smart alec i would have just written "Jada's tossing speed was about 10m/s". But I'm not a smart alec, after a second I knew what i was suppose to do. URGH!

Here's another problem that has TMI: Karen, at her third floor window, 7.2  meters above the ground, wants to toss an egg onto the head of Micheal who is sunbathing below, 8m aways from the building. With what horizontal velocity must Karen launch the egg. (hint: think first about time.) Why is Micheal sunbathing? Why do we need to know exactly what he is doing? Why can't just be standing there. True, I do like questions when they give you more of a scenario, but come on! Why can't Micheal be making grilled cheese, or feeding fish, or drawing with chalk?! I don't need the visual picture of Micheal sunbathing! And why is Karen throwing an egg at him? It's a very mean thing to do, and probably  illegal. Why would she do that? Oh wait,i know why. Because he's sunbathing outside her house. Egg him good Karen, egg him good.

Another witty answer

This brings me to another good point; good questions. Teachers either spend too much or not enough time on there questions. Using the example with karen & Michael from above, how would we even think to answer that question? I have never thrown an egg at a sunbather. I therefore have no background knowledge on this topic. Now, what if she had used a pop culture reference? she could have asked this question : Justin Beiber was onstage singing at a concert. A member of the crowd then threw a water bottle 20m to hit him in the face. If the bottle was thrown at a speed of 8m/s, about how long would it take to hit him? See!? not only would the question (hopefully) make you laugh, but you would understand it. Plus, wouldn't the laughing send more oxygen to your brain?

ps. To all those with a blog, i have dubbed every sunday to be "Story Sunday". Your mission will be to write a short story every sunday & post it! REMEMBER!!!

pps. HAPPY GERMAN AMERICAN DAY!

Ninjas