• Music: "Mephisto Waltz," Liszt

Happy Halloween, Day 10

First, I bring you Halloween quizzes!

Your Monster Profile

Grim Gargoyle You Feast On: Coffee You Lurk Around In: The Ocean You Especially Like to Torment: Groupies

What's Your Monster Name?

Which Pumpkin Carol Are You?

You are "Great Pumpkin Is Comin' To Town"!
"Great Pumpkin Is Comin' To Town"
Oh, you better not shriek, you better not groan,
You better not howl, you better not moan,
Great Pumpkin is coming to town!
He's going to find out from folks that he meets,
Who deserves tricks and who deserves treats;
Great Pumpkin is coming to town!
He'll search in every pumpkin patch, haunted houses far and near;
To see if you've been spreading gloom, or bringing lots of cheer!
So you better not shriek, you better not groan,
You better not howl, you better not moan;
Great pumpkin is coming to town!!
Take this quiz!








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Halloween Picks for You
Name
DOB
Favourite Color
Your Halloween song is	"Monster Mash"
Your Halloween movie is	FRANKENSTEIN
Your Halloween TV rerun episode is from	NIGHT GALLERY
Your Halloween story is	"The Shadow Over Innsmouth" by H.P. Lovecraft
This Quiz by eldritchhobbit - Taken 181 Times.

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And now, on with the show:

Link of the Day: ExtremePumpkins.com (For pumpkin carving at its wildest! Make sure to check out the galleries of past contest winners.)


Literature of the Day: Here's a dark and poignant look at Halloween.

“The Ballad of Halloween” (1900)
by Theodosia Garrison

All night the wild wind on the heath
Whistled its song of vague alarms;
All night in some mad dance of death
The poplars tossed their naked arms.

Mignon Isá hath left her bed
And bared her shoulders to the blast;
The long procession of the dead
Stared at her as it passed.

"Oh, there, methinks, my mother smiled,
And there my father walks forlorn,
And there the little nameless child
That was the parish scorn.

"And there my olden comrades move,
And there my sister smiles apart,
But nowhere is the fair, false love

That bent and broke my heart.

"Oh, false in life, oh, false in death,
Wherever thy mad spirit be,
Could it not come this night," she saith,
"And keep tryst with me?"

Mignon Isá has turned alone,
Bitter the pain and long the years;
The moonlight on the old gravestone
Was warmer than her tears.

All night the wild wind on the heath
Whistled its song of vague alarms;
All night in some mad dance of death
The poplars tossed their naked arms.