Tag Archives: weird

Destination Weirdsville: The weird and wacky Foamhenge

Adam: This is my intern William P. Hefferdink. Don’t call him Bill or Billy. He’ll probably shank you if you do. I’m giving him the reigns for this edition of Destination Weirdsville just to see if he can be trusted. Take it away Mr. Hefferdink.

William: Thank you, kind sir. May I take this moment to say how wonderful and amazing you are?

Adam: You may indeed.

William: You are one of the greatest people I know, and a wonderful writer to boot.

Adam: You’re too kind.

William: I know.

Adam: Ok, I’m leaving now. Tell them about that thing we discussed earlier.

William: Which thing would that be?

Adam: The place I went a few years ago. The one in Virginia.

William: Ah, yes. Aye aye, Captain.

Okay my fellow fans of the amazing Senior Ickes., I’ve been assigned the task of telling you a tale of mischief and intrigue, a tale of terror and suspense, a tale of FOAM!

Yes, I said foam. Confused? You shouldn’t be. There is a place called Natural Bridge, Virginia. Named for a naturally formed stone bridge. How unoriginal, right?

Where does the foam come in? Just off the side of the road, up on a hill, in a spot that’s easy to miss if you’re coming from the wrong direction, lies Foamhenge.


Foamhenge in all its glory!

Foamhenge is a replica of Stonehenge, only made from giant blocks of Styrofoam. How’s that for weird and wacky?

The creator of the strange roadside attraction (which is free to visit if you happen to be in the area) is one Mark Cline of Enchanted Castle Studios. He’s also created such attractions as House of the Living Dead (also in Natural Bridge),  the Scare Witch Experience (Lexington), and Professor Cline’s Time Machine (Virginia Beach).

If you’re into weird things, I’d highly recommend seeing this before it is gone. It is made of Styrofoam after all, it won’t stand up to the test of time like its inspiration has.


Destination Weirdsville: Lia Fáil

In Ireland, or Eire if you prefer, there is a stone. I know, I know, there are a lot of stones in Ireland. At least I’m assuming. I’ve never been there. I’d like to go some day, but haven’t made it yet. Anyway, that isn’t the point. This stone in Ireland is known as Lia Fáil, or The Stone of Fal, also called The Stone of Ireland by some. Nope, I’m not talking about the Blarney Stone. You can go ahead and kiss it if you wish, but this stone has a much higher purpose. It used to anyway.

The Stone of Fal goes way back, before the time of Christ. It is purported that the stone had the power to determine the king of Eire even before it was called Eire. How can a stone accomplish such an amazing feat you ask? Well it’s simple really. I’m sure there’s a bit more to it, but the idea is basically this:

Step 1: A man stands on the stone.

Step 2: If this man is the true king of Ireland, the stone roars with joy. If the man is not the true king, the stone does what stones do best, nothing.

Step 3: There is no step 3.

Not only was it believed that the stone could hand select kings, but it also held the power to rejuvenate the king and endow him with a long reign.

The stone hasn’t roared in many a year, however. Ever since some jackass got mad at it and split it with his sword. Proof that even in ancient times, douchebaggery ran rampant among us.

Creature Feature: The wonderfully weird alux

Let’s add a bit of hijinks to this little weekly party, shall we?

This week I’ll be exploring the cryptid known as the alux, the plural of which is aluxob. These little tricksters live south of the border in Central America.

The aluxob are very small creatures, basically tiny humans that stand only about knee-high. Legend says that they are invisible but can take on physical form, usually to frighten humans or to congregate, but it could be for any number or reasons. When seen, they are usually dressed in traditional Mayan garb.

These beings are known for their tricks. They’re basically the Mexican version of leprechauns. Though they have that reputation, the aluxob don’t start out as tricksters.

The story goes that an alux is birthed when a farmer builds a tiny house on his property, usually in a corn field. The alux is bound in servitude to the farmer for seven years. It helps the crops grow, summons rain, and scares away animals and other intruders that would harm the harvest.

When the seven years comes to an end, it is of utmost importance that the farmer go to the tiny house and close all windows and doors to seal the alux inside.  Should the farmer fail to do so, the alux will run wild and become the prankster of legend.

There is a belief that on occasion an alux will approach a farmer and demand an offering. If the farmer denies the alux, he is bringing misfortune upon himself and his family. If he bends over backward for the creature, he will be protected and good luck will rain down upon him.

Also, if you haven’t spoken the name yet, don’t. There is a belief that to name them out loud is not a good thing. Doing so will summon an alux from its home to wreak havoc on your life. Sorry, guess I should have started with that. If one shows up at your door, do whatever it asks of you.

Destination Weirdsville: The Chase Vault

In a galaxy not so far away, in a world not dissimilar to our own, lies a place known as the Twilight Zone.

I’m you’re host, Pompei Romano, and I’ll be guiding your voyage today. I’m going to tell you of a place that can only be described as an offshoot of that mythical zone of oddness. A place right here in our own plane of existence. A place that put bizarre on the map. Let’s take a journey into the wonderfully weird world of the Chase Vault.

This is not in Barbados, but it is in New York, the state, not the city. It’s in a little graveyard in Watkins Glen.

Barbados, 1808 – the Chase family acquires the infamous location to be used as the final resting place for the family members. At this point, the vault was already eighty years old, but surprisingly only houses just a single occupant, one Thomasina Goddard. It was decided by the family that the remains of Goddard would be left alone and allowed to remain in the vault.

Not long after the family became the proud owners of the  new-to-them vault, Mary-Anne Maria Chase passed away and was placed in the vault with Goddard. Four years later, Mary-Anne’s sister Dorcas suffered the same fate. So far so good, nothing strange happening here, right?

Barely a month later, the head of the Chase family, Colonel Thomas Chase, also died. This is when things started getting weird for the Chase family. When the vault was opened, moving a heavy marble slab is no easy task mind you, to inter the body of Thomas, Dorcas’ coffin was found to have been moved.  It stood upright against the far wall with the head facing downward. Some sources say Mary-Anne’s coffin was moved when it was Dorcas’ turn to enter the vault, but those reports aren’t conclusive, so they may or may not be true.

Naturally, vandals and/or thieves were blamed and the coffin was placed back in its original location. No harm, no foul. Those must have been some of the most polite vandals/thieves on the planet to reseal the vault when they’d finished having their fun.

Each subsequent time the vault was opened to add another member of the family to the growing collection, the vault’s contents were found to be in disarray. Even the heavy coffin of Thomas, which took eight men to lift, was found to be moved. Upon examining the vault there were no obvious signs of tampering with the seals, flooding, or Earthquakes. The cause of the moving coffins was never determined.

According to some reports, only one of the coffins was never found to be moved. Can you guess which one? The original- Thomasina Goddard’s. Perhaps she didn’t like sharing her space with the others.

Eventually, the vault was abandoned and the coffins were moved to another location in the Christ Church Parish cemetery. It still stands empty, to this day.

Perhaps the weirdest part about the tale of the Chase Vault- it isn’t an isolated incident. A similar case was reported in Suffolk, England in the late 18th century.

Welcome to the Twilight Zone, folks.

Let the prognostication begin

Okay, it’s time to live up to my banner image and start doing some not so serious prognosticating. I’m going to use a very high tech approach where I think of an event that I believe may happen at some point in the future and then write it down. Don’t feel bad if you don’t understand my approach to prognosticating. Like I said, it’s very high tech. Few people can grasp a process of such gargantuan magnitude.

I may even make this a weekly event here in the dungeons of me blog. Yes, I put “me” on purpose, so don’t tell me to change it to “my”. I won’t entertain such nonsense.

Here’s how we’re going to do this. I’ll throw out a prediction Nostradamus-style and let you guys run wild and see if you can decipher the meaning behind the prediction. Think of it as a verbose fortune cookie, except everybody gets the same fortune.

Days beyond prime.
Among crunchy hills and valleys.
Putrid liquid will flow.

Take a stab and see if you can figure out what I’m predicting here. And before you ask- Yes, there is an actual prediction buried in there beneath the obscure word choices.

Give me your best guess in the comments section!