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Spookage...
Oct. 31st, 2006 05:34 am::Pets the new LJ layout with the cutest-looking little chibi reaper you ever saw, uses it::
And my dad and I have been going to the local spook walk/haunted houses. Last night was the St. William's Parish Youth Group's spook walk in the basement of the old school building: kids acting out horror-movie inspired stuff, including an obvious "Freddy vs. Jason" skit.
But tonight was the gem of local spookage: the Livingston Street Terror, in one of the old houses on the State land near the State Hospital. They've revamped it considerably. Their graveyard had a lot of spooks popping out of pits in the ground, and the interior featured a distressed-elegant gothic decor. They also did away with the old (fictitious) backstory on the house, since I suspect people started turning it into a local urban legend. Now it's the haunted funeral parlor. As per usual, I in my black attire and cloak with the hood up got mistaken for a spook as I walked across the parking lot. A little girl waved at me and called "Hello!" I responded with a Vincent Price-worthy "Hallo...."
My dad to a spook with a chainsaw: "Hey, is that a McCollough chainsaw?" (My dad's favorite kind of chainsaw)
Me to a seven-foot, prybar-toting spook who looked like the Trainman's leprosy-raddled brother: "Eek." ::In the most fake sounding squeak imaginable::
And my dad and I have been going to the local spook walk/haunted houses. Last night was the St. William's Parish Youth Group's spook walk in the basement of the old school building: kids acting out horror-movie inspired stuff, including an obvious "Freddy vs. Jason" skit.
But tonight was the gem of local spookage: the Livingston Street Terror, in one of the old houses on the State land near the State Hospital. They've revamped it considerably. Their graveyard had a lot of spooks popping out of pits in the ground, and the interior featured a distressed-elegant gothic decor. They also did away with the old (fictitious) backstory on the house, since I suspect people started turning it into a local urban legend. Now it's the haunted funeral parlor. As per usual, I in my black attire and cloak with the hood up got mistaken for a spook as I walked across the parking lot. A little girl waved at me and called "Hello!" I responded with a Vincent Price-worthy "Hallo...."
My dad to a spook with a chainsaw: "Hey, is that a McCollough chainsaw?" (My dad's favorite kind of chainsaw)
Me to a seven-foot, prybar-toting spook who looked like the Trainman's leprosy-raddled brother: "Eek." ::In the most fake sounding squeak imaginable::