Just...................whatever [5]

Figg will be so dissapointed.

Figg will be so dissapointed- Blue

I think the word you are looking for there is 'relieved'.

If you say so.

Besides by the time I found my way through all the layers of bustle, I'd have forgotten what I came in there for  

If you say so. I'm sure she'll understand.

Wait.. are you complaining about Petty's lacking ability with the bustle or... ?

For ladies not wishing interference with said bustle, we often incorporate an iron clad petticoat underneath the multitude of layers, which has worked well in the past. Tho for the more persistent among us there is now, on the market,a more radical way to deter intruders......



If just ONE of these highly sensitive buttons are moved........



the sound is released & all will know for miles around....



You can try,but, you will be caught....



And a sharp increase in the sell of pickles go off the chart not only at Christmas...................



I thankyou

For the record I would have it known I would never interfere with a ladies bustle without their permission, and a map.

Pettytyrant101 wrote:For the record I would have it known I would never interfere with a ladies bustle without their permission, and a map.

Btw, I love your new self portrait avatar

Remembered why I don't like spiders

Gawd all fooking mighty ! what the hell is that, some sort of alien ! Dont tell me, its in Austrangl-ya isnt it

I wonder how fast those move. The tarantula I met i the Amazon was much smaller (although plenty big enough) but it moved like a bullet!

FUCK. THAT!



I just read the most old fashioned line in modern journalism I think, in that bastion of tradition, the Daily Mail- the story was a typical celebrity scandal- Katie Hopkins, evil banshee of the twittersphere having her twitter account hijacked- I was hoping she had been hijacked and forced to take along walk of a short pier- anyhow it included in the story this line-

"Another tweet reads: 'Thanks for 200 retweets fam! Here's the sex tape link' before posting a link to gentleman's interest website Pornhub.'"

'gentlemans interest website'?! Is it 1890? And what about the ladies? Too delicate?

I was bad enough when a spider the size of a dime was crawling across me last night in the tent.  Bugs of all sorts still freak me out (except fireflies for some reason).

Petty:

Not sure where this belongs, if anywhere, or what to describe it at- lets grandly call it a Tale of Power.
I was reminded to reconsider it after talking Celtic stuff with Eldo.
Its a true tale, in so far that it happened as I will report it, but it rather beggars the question by the end of what truth is.
Oh and for the sake of this I have changed the names of those involved except myself.

So lets say we have me, Dave, Bob and Arthur.
Now we were all camping in a glen not to far from where we all live, a beautiful place, with a river running through it, Black Craig, a towering slab of granite cliff that as the sun sets turns completely black at the far end from where we camp. Tree clad slopes and where it is open blankets of summer bracken as tall as a mans chest.

Now we had not chosen this place purely by accident, or just for its aesthetic appeal, no, three of us anyway had an another purpose being there this particular night- and that reason was something in the glen.
A rock, about 3 foot across, standing about the same high, marked with incised straight lines forming a triangular shape around a deep carved bowl, surrounded with what are know as cup-marked rocks (these were made by the people of this area sometime between about 4000bc at the very earliest and 2000bc at the latest and their meaning is unknown).

The reason three of the four of us were there for this rock was to test a certain belief- that those who built the thing were capable of communicating across time and space through it by means of imbuing the thing itself with the focus of their attention (attention in this instance being used to describe the power by which we all are capable of drawing a cohesive solid world from the quantum soup we swim in).
Now I grant you this seems quite a fantastical thing to expect to happen- communication with those dead many thousand years- but nevertheless, this was our aim that camping trip.
To this end we have prepared some things- a smoking mixture which would cause a mild shift in perception, opening the doors a little as it were- but I should stress not a hallucinogenic.
There was also some alcohol involved, because it was after all a bunch of Scots doing this!

Our problem as it were, though we did not realise it was going to be one yet, was Arthur.
Arthur is a friend, but not one of the group as it were, at least certainly not in terms of outlook, and the dividing line was belief.
We didn't have any and were open to all sorts of possibilities, Arthur had belief you could bend metal round and was a life long, committed practising Christian.
Arthur's attitude to the sacred rock was very different indeed as we found out when we got to it.

We had timed our expedition from camp to rock (a walk of about twenty minutes across and slightly up the hillside on the far side of the glen) to take place not long after midnight.
It was a perfectly clear night and with no light pollution as the walls of the glen blocked it all out, the stars were ablaze overhead and the MikyWay could clearly be seen snaking its way across the heavens.

We crossed the river, there is an old stone bridge there but it has long ago collapsed in the middle so the method for crossing is one learned in childhood- how to jump from wet rock to wet rock to the other side without falling in!
Having navigated that hazard the next part of the journey was fairly leisurely, as we could follow the Forestry Commission dirt road along this hillside to where it passed close by to the location of the Rock.
I should also point out that the hillsides here were all forestry commission- this means they are covered in rows of regimented pine trees for harvest.
But when they got to the Rock they were not allowed to disturb it, so they built around it.
The trees, having grown to some height in the years since, now formed a perfect circle about ten foot out from the rock all round, making a perfect open glade, with it in the exact centre sitting beneath the stars.
This was the sight the four of came upon when we left the road and made the journey through the thick bracken down the slope into the trees and finally into the glade.

Everything seemed perfect, the air was still, the stars shone down giving the glade an ethereal quality.
We had no real plan for how to go about 'activating' the stone. Our first aim had been to treat it seriously and with respect, to approach it as one might an altar.
We had discussed the merits of offering a libation.

But we never got the chance. Arthur had no such attitude of respect or any belief in it as anything other than what it appeared- an old rock someone had carved into.
But his lack of respect, combined with a drink in him made him act in a manner which increasingly alarmed us.
He poured the remaining contents of his beer can into the carved bowl of the rock before we could stop him, and then he sat mockingly atop it grinning like a loon.

This was when it got weird. Or at least it got weird for me, Dave and Bob.
If you have ever been in the woods at night the most prominent thing is sound- and the surprising thing is how little sound most stuff makes, even in the stillness of night.
The loudest most obvious noise in the Scottish hills at night is that of a startled deer, which will bound away though the trees and can make a fair bit of branch napping noise as they do so.
This was what we heard in the wood around us, startling initially but quickly dismissed with experience and reason.
Until it started happening all around us, from every direction and the mood in the glade changed significantly.
Not it seemed to us pressing and malevolent. We were not wanted there. And it was definitely frightening. This was not the sort of contact we had wanted.
As the snapping of branches grew all around us we grabbed Arthur, under protest and dragged him and us the hell out of there as fast as we could go, with the noises gradually subsiding as we got further away.

The interesting bit however is that this all happened to the complete bemusement of Arthur. Because Arthur had not heard a single thing. Not a single branch crack, let alone it being all around us.
But we 3 had.


There are of course a number of possible explanations to what went on that night.
But I leave you to consider your own!

Oooh I love spooky stuff like this !!! real furrttt material Anyone else got a story thats nice & creepy ?

Whatever it was Petty, I am sure it wasn't you being there but more likely the blatant waste of alcohol by your Arthur. It was a Scottish stone after all.

Thats true, plus he poured beer in when he had about his person a hip flask of quality island single malt.

Assuming there are forces we have not understood, what if "Arthur" had been left there on his tod ?

My guess nothing at all, he was completely oblivious to whatever we were experiencing. I think that obliviousness would have saved him- which you can see as either he was shielded by his God and his religious beliefs, or he was blinkered by them and saw and heard less of what was really there. Assuming anything was really there. Or he was the only sane one at that moment in time and we were all hearing things.
Its also possibly an explanation for why humans have so focused and narrowed their perceptional range- it might be living in ignorance but its a lot safer that way.

Still, if there is something we are blind to, how can this be explained ? there have been so many reports of strange phenomena like this ? There has to be a scientific reason surely ?

I've said it before Petty but you are a wonderful writer and you're able to make even your reminisces such engaging reading.

I must admit that my knee-jerk reaction is to assume a naturalistic explanation for the phenomenon but of course I wasn't there (and quite possibly wasn't even born yet at the time ) so I really couldn't say. I haven't had any such experiences myself to base an opinion on one way or another.

I do always enjoy hearing more about you when you were younger; you've got so many good stories to share.