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On a personal note…

Published January 23, 2017 by Shadow Girl



The Dark Defender found his kryptonite ~ unfortunately the doctors can’t seem to identify it, or fix it.

They have, however, extended their list of things that it is NOT.

I still don’t like to use the word coma, so keep him in your thoughts while he’s napping. 

♥ sg

Coulrophobes – you may want to stay the Hell away from Michigan!

Published October 7, 2016 by Shadow Girl

The nationwide #CreepyClown epidemic has come to Metro Detroit, and in several instances has gone beyond creepy to criminal.

The #CreepyClowns are invading Shadow Girl's territory!

The #CreepyClowns are invading Shadow Girl’s territory!

Multiple sources have confirmed the #CreepyClown incident at Carlson HS on Tuesday.

Details here so far are sketchy because I have not been able to verify information about the gunman, but I spoke to multiple people today who were right there at #CreepyClown Ground Zero.  Even if you haven’t been following the nationwide clown-demic – this shit is terrifying!

A student, dressed as a clown held the teachers and students hostage with a loaded gun as he piped creepy circus music throughout the school. The police had the school on lock-down until the student gunman was eventually arrested. (Watch for upcoming interview with CHS student.)

But, that’s not all… apparently the circus came to Brownstown on Tuesday, because the high school clown brought a posse >.< (oh come on, it’s funny! – you know that this is where ICP is from, right?) and the clowny shenanigans continued throughout the night.

Police in Downriver are searching for a suspect who robbed the Walgreens on West and Telegraph roads in Brownstown Township on Tuesday night.
According to police, the suspect entered the store with his gun drawn and demanded cash.
“He had on a black hoodie pulled over his head, a white clown mask underneath and dark colored pants,” Deputy Chief Robert Matthews told WWJ’s Charlie Langton.
The suspect escaped with $300 to $400 cash, fleeing the scene in a blue Chevy Impala.

Two women and one young child were also assaulted Tuesday night by men dressed as clowns.
In the first incident a boy was attacked by a man wearing a clown outfit and wielding a knife in a trailer park in Sterling Heights. The boy suffered minor cuts.
The second incident a couple hours later, involved two women who “were approached by three men dressed as clowns at Lowell and Boulder streets in Sterling Heights.
“Three men in clown masks with baseball bats jumped out and started swinging them at the women,” according to the report.

Earlier MI incidents include –

Clinton Township – A motorist posted a video on Twitter at 2:45 a.m. Sunday of a #CreepyClown incident. The tweet says: “We just saw this clown on Cass and Moravian. He tried to follow our car. This is getting insane.” The tweeted video of the clown sighted at the car wash can be found here.

Reports have also been confirmed in Big RapidsPort Huron, and  in Lapeere.




This up-to-the-minute interactive map tracks all #CreepyClown sightings, threats, and scares.

NPR: America’s Creepy Clown Problem Continues

The Graveyard by J.R. Jackson

Published October 23, 2015 by Shadow Girl

It was a dark and stormy night. Just kidding. It was really a hot summer night, back in the day where you could stay outside and play until the street lights came on. Yeah, that far back.

This was about the mid to late 1970’s. I was in grade school and parents didn’t fear having your children outside. I think I was about 10 maybe 11 and used to ride my bike all over with my best buds, Tom and Brent. We went to school together, rode the same bus, hung out, we were cool in our own young minds.

Thinking it was the summer of ’77, but I digress. We were staying at Tom’s house whose parents were really cool. They let us camp out in the backyard and left us to our own devices. Here we were sitting inside our tent talking about scary things when Brent comes up with the idea to check out the local cemetery. Urban legend said that something was out there, something that roamed the old graveyard.

The cemetery was old. Old like it contained the people who founded the city, old. There were graves dating back to 1840, that’s how old the place was. And it was huge. In a kid’s mind, it went on forever. And it was still being used. I’d been in there a few times in the daytime but Brent was adamant that we had to go there at night. Tonight to be exact. We had to know if it was real, whatever it was that supposedly hanging out there.

We geared up. Fruit roll-ups, orange Crush soda, some Red Vines and of course, our G.I. Joe uniforms that we used to play army in the battlefields of our backyard. ($19.99 at the local J.C. Penny).

The trip went fast, maybe it was excitement, maybe it was adrenaline. The cemetery sat on a hill overlooking the town, its fence, stone and iron and the gates always open. I think that maybe the gates were so old and rusted that they couldn’t be closed. I’m sure you’ve all heard the joke about why cemetery’s have a fence around them because people are dying to get in, but in this case, we all secretly wished that the gates had been closed and locked. We wheeled our bikes over to the fence and hid them in brush before stepping into the entrance and gazing at the garden of stone.

In the center, almost as a line dividing where the old section ended and the new began stood a building that held the urns of the cremated. A mausoleum. In the moonlight, it stood out with its white marble like columns. Somewhere past that building was a small reflecting pond and the new development.

Our mission, should we undertake it, was to get to the building. Simple. However, according to local legend, there was supposed to be ghosts here along with whatever resided inside the mausoleum. Standing in the entranceway, I looked over the monuments half expecting to see some white sheeted apparition floating among the headstones. None were present and that called for a couple of hearty chugs of orange soda. We fortified ourselves with licorice and soda then stepped inside. Nothing happened.

We stepped further inside, still nothing. We looked at each other with silly grins. Whatever was here knew who we were. We were Los Tres Bastardos, the three amigos, the three musketeers; we were Billy Jack, Bruce Lee, and Chuck Norris. Nothing dared come near us.

Confidently, we continued on our mission. About halfway to the building, we heard something. It was subtle but it was there. We paused, tilted our heads to listen and then caught it. It sounded something like thumping, making a dub-dub sound. We looked around, none of us wanting to show fear in front of our best buddies.

There it was again, a little louder. We shrugged it off and continued. Would John Wayne have let a little noise rattle him when he was storming the beaches of Iwo Jima? No way. Not the Duke.

As the building drew nearer, the sound grew louder. With each step we took, the sound increased in tempo and volume until it was steady, like a heartbeat. A rapid heartbeat.

With each step closer to the urn repository, the heartbeat grew in volume. I can remember looking over at Tom and Brent and seeing the wide-eyed look which I’m sure I mirrored. All we had to do was reach the building, check it out and then leave. That was it. We could do that. Pretty sure we could. The goal was right there, just a few feet in front of us. But so was something else. Something inside or in the darkness around us.

I could hear Tom and Brent breathing heavy. I was sure I was doing the same. In reflection, I realize that we were in the flight or fight mode, increasing our blood to oxygen ratio in preparation for whatever.

The mausoleum was right in front of us. It was so close we could make out the names and dates on the plaques. The heartbeat was right there with us as well. It was loud. Loud enough that I swear that filling that I had gotten a few months prior was vibrating.

We stepped closer to the mausoleum, close enough to trace the etched names with our fingers. The noise was incredibly loud. It came from inside, from everywhere. We all touched one of the plaques and looked at each other. Mission accomplished. We had reached the mausoleum, touched it, now it was time to extract. Time to get the Hell out of Dodge. Make like a tree a leave. As one, we turned and faced back the way we had come. It was clear. All we had to do was make it back through the monuments, out the gate and to our bikes. We were home free.

The heartbeat stopped replaced by ethereal silence.

We hesitated. Looking at each other in confusion and then back out at the cemetery. It was a group decision, a mental decision but it was still a decision. Summoning up my best adolescent imitation of Vic Morrow in the Rat Patrol, I shouted:

“Let’s get the Hell out of here!”

Like a shot, we were off. Full spring, dodging headstones, graves, whatever, we looked like profession broken field runners. We reached the gate only to find it closed and padlocked.

In a panic, we grabbed the iron bars and yanked on them to no avail. It was then that the heartbeat started up. Louder, closer, right behind us. I swear I could feel the hot breath of something on my neck.

“We got to go over!” Tom shouted. The three of us grabbed the bars and climbed like our lives depended on it. Hitting the ground on the other side hard enough to sting our feet through our Converse high tops, we grabbed out bikes out of their camouflage and rode away like Satan himself was on our heels.

The ride back didn’t take very long. We dropped our bikes in the backyard and dove into the tent. Safe. Exhaustion claimed us and we slept until morning. In the daylight, we swore each other to secrecy that no one would ever know how we had turned tail and ran from something other worldly.

Years later, I heard the same story from a group of middle school kids. They too had experienced the sound. As an adult, I can conjure up all kinds of theory’s that the sound could have been produced and by what. But, for some reason, I’ve never returned to that cemetery, in daylight, to prove any of those theories.


Published October 19, 2015 by Shadow Girl


Urban legends & folklore have been in existence since man began storytelling.
Many of them may have a basis of truth, but it’s so far buried in embellishments as the story is circulated that it’s hard to distinguish fact from fiction. Others are so engrained in our history that they’re considered accurate accounts of actual events.

You know the story. THAT STORY. Where everyone heard it from a friend of a friend and they are pretty sure there’s some truth to it because their cousin saw something when they were in 9th grade and then so and so’s Dad saw this light on the water in 1972 and there was that one time the barn down the road just up and vanished and showed up two days later somewhere else…

And that’s pretty much how it goes. I’m sure everyone reading this blog has a story from where they grew up, or a tale told on the playground on a stormy day at recess in elementary school. Or they heard something from a friend of a friend…

These are the stories we love. Told by ”the people they happened to”.
These stories must be true. After all, this is the internet.
You can’t put anything on the internet that isn’t true. Everyone knows that.

Urban Legend A humorous/horrific story or piece of information circulated as though true, especially one purporting to involve someone vaguely related or known to the teller.

Folklore:  The traditional beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, passed through the generations by word of mouth.A body of popular myth and beliefs relating to a particular place, activity, or group of people.
Creepypasta:  Essentially internet horror stories, passed around on forums and other sites to disturb and frighten readers. The name “Creepypasta” comes from the word “copypasta“, an internet slang term for a block of text that gets copied and pasted over and over again from website to website.
Creepy stories that float around on the Interwebs.
Kate: I heard that if you say “Bloody Mary” 3 times into a mirror, a hook will appear on your car door.
Rob: No, dude. That’s just some creepypasta.


In March of 2013 I published the URBAN LEGENDS page here on BBB with the intention of posting re-imaginings of some great urban legends.  With a little help, and some added Griz-tion, it was off to a good start!

Then the inevitable happened. Life. Stuff. Things.

It’s time to inject some new life

into this project!

Email your nightmare inducing stories to with URBAN LEGENDS in the subject line, and attach any pictures you would like to be included in the post.

Tell me a story. Scare me.

It’s a dark & stormy night…

GO KILL CRAZY by Bryan Smith

Published July 8, 2014 by Shadow Girl

GO KILL CRAZY! by Bryan Smith


Grab your WONDER WOMAN Underoos, and nice big, hot, thick, juicy Itilian sausage – (what? PIZZA!), it’s time to celebrate GRRL POWER!

Pissed off Pin Ups
I want to Go Kill Crazy with Dez, Echo and Lana ❤ These thrill killers are smokin HAWT, and fueled by revenge. Well… revenge, and cocaine.
Sex, drugs, and Smith & Wesson
Goddess help the ones who get in their way, because NOTHING can save the unfortunate people who cross them. No one is safe from these former strippers. By the end of their blood soaked spree, they might not even be safe from each other.

Every time I finish a Bryan Smith story, I remember how much I love his characters! There’s always a little something identifiable in every person, something relatable. The author makes you care what happens to every person. But, don’t forget… caring can go both ways, so while no one is merely a ‘disposable red shirt’, you will care whether or not justice finds [someone like] Mr. Adulterer/Abuser, or Ms. Abuser of Power.

I’m on a Bad Grrl power kick right now, so I need to go scrounge for forgotten change – try to scrape up enough to spend some time with my favorite Bad Grrl, the original Pissed off Pin-UpBryan Smith – Roxy. THE KILLING KIND 2 is available, and I’m dying to find out what she gets up to with Rob, and who are the other serial killers she meets along the way?
Could it possibly be Dez, Echo, and Lana?!
A GKC/KK2 mash/up – tie in?!!
Omg!! How freakin awesome would that be?!

Until next time…

Peace, Love, & Necrophilia

Connect with Bryan Smith –

About the Author


The Horror of Bryan Smith

Go Kill Crazy! on Goodreads

The Killing Kind 2 on Goodreads


Published January 5, 2014 by Shadow Girl


The Book of Your Life

Published November 30, 2013 by Shadow Girl


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