Pick your brain
It's finally Friday, and what a week it's been. Have you ever looked at someone and thought, “Who taught you shapes?” My fave line from that flick, by the way, so bonus points if you get the connection with this one.
It's finally Friday, and what a week it's been. Have you ever looked at someone and thought, “Who taught you shapes?” My fave line from that flick, by the way, so bonus points if you get the connection with this one.
Chatja Board
In August of 1973, the Smurl family settled into a modest duplex on Chase Street in West Pittston, Pennsylvania. They were a devoutly Catholic family Jack and Janet, their four young daughters, as well as Jack's parents, who lived on the other side of the duplex home. It was meant to be a fresh start after their previous home was ravaged by a hurricane.
The Human Test Tube
The classic urban legend plays on a universal skin-crawling fear: a weary traveler checks into a cheap motel room, settles into bed for the night, and is plagued by a suffocating, sickly sweet stench. No amount of blasted air conditioning or heavy perfume can mask the rot hanging in the air. After spending hours tossing and turning in the dark, breathing in the invisible haze, maintenance is finally called to strip the bed, only to reveal a decomposing human corpse stuffed inside the frame directly beneath where the guest was sleeping.
In the 1840s, long before the discovery of germ theory or effective chemical anesthesia, surgical wards were screaming chambers filled with the thick, iron stench of spilled blood and voided bowels. Surgeons were not judged by their delicate precision or sterile technique, but by pure, violent velocity. The goal was to sever a limb before the patient died from the agonizing shock of the saw cutting through live bone.
It's all Fare
The Terrifying Truth About Unit 731
One Final Call home?