now, where is that golden arm...?

yes, i've returned from the wilderness. alive to mope another day. i can't express how thankful i am that i've taken today off as well. no, there's no way for me to adequately express that.

thanks to nick-o and the velvet underground for sponsoring my impromptu trip to the adirondacks. for the record, we stayed in a lovely, bourgeois home in woods, so it wasn't like i was actually camping. there was a very nice fireplace, however, and i used the opportunity to try to tell ghost stories i remembered from when i was a kid. i used this opportunity badly.

there is the story of the "golden arm" that i attempted to relate. for some reason, i found this story terrifying as a child. i don't know why, exactly. it's an absurd premise that doesn't get any less absurd as it reaches its anticlimax. i suppose many "classic" ghost stories suffer from these failings, and are subsequently a testament to a good storyteller's skill in making something scary. how sad, then, that i -- who aspire to become such a storyteller -- failed so stunningly with such an old story. the failure is made worse by the fact that i was afforded the rare gift of being surrounded by a bunch of semi-inebriated adults who had somehow never heard of the diabolical tale of the golden arm (here coupled with the even more ridiculous tale of the "missing liver").

you want genuine creepy, though? (after all, dear reader, why would you be reading misanthropy central...?) how about a little Kigurumi (work-safe) to get under your skin (less work-safe, but i know you can't help but click on this: the power of christ commands you!).

eff september and eff rico while you're there...