Kow wrote:My grandmother and her peers were all from that generation and I heard loads of stories about the fairy folk and fairy trees etc. That generation were not full on believers but definitely erred on the side of caution. Where we lived we were surrounded by all kinds of trees that nobody would cut down and literally dozens of fairy forts within a stone's throw of the house. We used to regularly play in the ring forts. No fairies ever kidnapped me to the best of my knowledge.
poprock wrote:You should visit Scarfolk sometime.
DrewMerson wrote:Forgot to mention in my self-indulgent road-trip thread, the other day when I was exploring the Petroglyph National Monument, amongst the various people variously looking around the place, there was a guy always around the same spot as me.
You know the sort of situation, when someone is moving around the supermarket / museum / site of historical significance about the same speed as you, so you keep encountering each other and awkwardly exchanging hellos and acknowledging nods. Not this guy. Basically the second time we passed, “There’s an awesome one up there, dude, it’s huge!” He was not one for slightly-embarrassed greetings, every time we passed was an opportunity for him to cheerily update me on his progress.
He looked a little different to the rest of us. I was in the sturdy-footwear, sensible walking trousers and waterproof shell over various layers bracket, like others who had set out for the day to look at ancient pictographs delicately chiseled into rocks in a geologically interesting environment. He had frosted tips, big, orange, rectangular glasses, a sleeveless denim jacket over an anime printed hoody, and a pair of garish Converse to go with his unbridled enthusiasm for what he was seeing.
His excitement was entirely fitting, although his disregard for ‘do not leave the path’ and ‘no access beyond this point’ raised an eyebrow. I would have said something but, in fairness, he was being careful in his pursuit of photographs (I thought I took a lot, but he must’ve outdone me 3:1) and he was a damn sight more respectful than the cunts who have defaced some of the petroglyphs by trying to etch their own or, in some cases, because America, shooting them. I shit you not.
I even gave him a pass when he loudly took a telephone call, because of the passion he put into convincing whoever was on the other end of that call to join him in a visit here in the not too distant future.
Where he lost me, though, was in the last time he spoke to me, as I passed by him exuberantly lining up his next shot. “Bro, do you watch Ancient Aliens?” No, sorry. “It’s a TV show. I swear they’ve had some of these on there.”
Righto.
g.man wrote:That’ll have been Hair’s American cousin, Brad Hair Day.
Blue Swirl wrote:In 1989 two hikers in the mountains of Japan are saved after a search and rescue team finds a giant SOS written with felled trees.
The twist? The two hikers didn't write the message.
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