louiseville

dustlines  asked:

A monster that licks Popes? It's astounding that you have 475 pages of data on something with such awfully specific criteria!

BUCKLE UP, DUSTY, THINGS ARE GONNA GET POPE LICKY.

FIRST THING the Pope Lick Monster is actually named after POPE LICK CREEK in Metro Louisville, Kentucky, and the POPE LICK TRESTLE, the 90ft tall railroad bridge the creature is purported to live under. This is the bridge!! First is 1904, second is TODAY (well, okay, 2011.)

The Pope family were REALLY BIG in 19th century Kentucky, and the best info we have suggests that the creek was named after JOHN POPE, the third territorial governor of Arkansas! He had one arm and three wives (not at the same time.) But this ISN’T ABOUT HIM. Also the trestle passes over a little river, or ‘lick,’ so that’s the best lead we have on the origins of the name!

People say the Pope Lick Monster has the upper body of a REALLY PALE guy with wide-set eyes and goat horns, and the legs of a goat. Or a sheep! They say it’s an escaped circus freak or a farmer who sacrificed his goats to SATAN, or maybe a human-goat hybrid (which is biologically impossible for a whole bunch of reasons including the fact that humans have 46 chromosomes and goats have 60 but okay.) It’s supposed to lure people out onto the trestle and then force them to leap to their deaths, or drop right off the bridge and land on cars passing underneath on Pope Lick Road. Other versions claim it has a giant rusty axe, or that it holds people down on the traintracks until they get run over! They say it can imitate a train whistle, it wails and screams, and it might have HYPNOTIC POWERS.

THIS IS NOT A REAL PHOTOGRAPH. WE DON’T HAVE ANY OF THOSE YET.

This is where things get kinda frustrating because it’s an urban legend so there’s a whole lot of ‘People say…’ and ‘It is said that…’ and I’m like, WHO SAID THAT. WHEN. WHAT’S THEIR EMAIL BC I HAVE QUESTIONS.

Um, okay, what we do know. We have a lot of anecdotal evidence dating back to the 1940s about the Pope Lick Goatman or Monster or Sheepman. Several sources say an entire Boy Scout troupe in the 50s/60s camped out near the trestle and were attacked in the middle of the night by a hairy creature that shrieked and threw rocks at them and may or may not have just been a really antisocial naked hobo guy, but I can’t find any information other than a bunch of people saying it happened, so, again, legend. We have claims of cattle mutilations and sightings of the monster leaping across the road in front of cars, and Weird Kentucky cites a guy called Doug Oller who says his grandfather saw a ‘screaming devil jumping a fence, grabbing two full-grown pigs and jumping off with them.’

Unfortunately none of the 17 Doug or Douglas Ollers in the Metro-Louiseville phonebooks are taking my calls anymore, so I can’t substantiate that claim yet.

Here’s where things get SERIOUS. The trestle is 772ft long, and at least 4 people have died trying to cross it. In 1987 Jack Bahm, 17, and David Bryant, 19, tried to cross the bridge. Bahm was killed on impact with the train and Bryant jumped, dying later of his injuries. In 2000 Nicholas Jewell, 19, died in a fall from the trestle trying to avoid the train. In 2016 Roquel Bain, 26, climbed out onto the bridge specifically LOOKING for the Pope Lick monster and got hit by the train AND fell off the bridge. People say the monster lures monster hunters and thrill-seeking teenagers out onto the bridge with its TELEPATHIC powers, but it seems like most of the time the only thing that tempts people into climbing onto the bridge is the LEGEND ITSELF. Kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. The fact is, Pope Lick Monster or no Pope Lick Monster, the trestle is too long to escape if you’re surprised by a train.

So… YEAH. Actual demon haunting backwoods Kentucky? Scary hobo guy throwing rocks at Boy Scouts? Lethal yet non-paranormal psychological trap?? IMPROBABLY GROSS GENETIC MUTATION? We JUST DON’T KNOW. Since the 1980s the base of the trestle is protected by an 8-foot fence and a ton of ‘DANGER’ and ‘KEEP OUT’ signs but, come on, when has that ever stopped dedicated monster hunters? Or teenagers. The answer is NEVER, I should know because I’M BOTH.

There was an independent movie, ‘The Legend Of The Pope Lick Monster’ and a stage play/film, ‘The Trestle At Pope Lick Creek.’ The monster even has its own Facebook page. And THIS SHIRT, which I kind of NEED.

If you want the full 190 minute video presentation with slides that I originally made for my Youtube channel, PM me. I just need to make sure you’re not going to share it with anyone who’s going to speed up my voice so I sound like a crazy chipmunk and put stupid circus music over it, because that’s a precaution I need to take, apparently.

I preordered botw from amazon

MISTAKE

it shipped from Phoenix, Arizona on Thursday, which is cool, that’s normal, but it went to Louiseville, Kentucky

I’m in Oklahoma

for those of y’all not familiar with the US, I edited this handy map from google to show exactly how fucking stupid that is

IT LITERALLY PASSED RIGHT BY ME TO GO ELEVEN MORE HOURS IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

artemiskaonai  asked:

They have at least 50 people out shooting people / assaulting right now, people with masks and paint on their face..

^^^^^ this is in relation to the purge in louisville, kentucky. this is not a joke, this is not a hoax, this is happening right now. this info is coming directly from the louisville police station radio and if you want to listen to it heres a link. please stay safe if you are in the area!!

Gravel And Ash [Part 1/3]

Title: Gravel And Ash [Part 1/3]

Summary: He’s the guy who asks if he can join you and you’re the girl with a flowery backpack who doesn’t belong in a place like this.

Or, the one where two very different people have two things in common: their end destination and the secrets they keep.

Written for @torn-and-frayed​​‘s Songs of Season 2 Challenge for the song Hellhound on my Trail by Robert Johnson. The next part will be up this weekend, hopefully.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,600ish

Warnings/tropes: Un-betaed, aesthetic fic, road tripping, hitchhiking, semi AU but still in the Supernatural world [smut in next part]

A/N: Yet another one of my aesthetic fics, the first one of which was Organically Grown, a Sam x Reader fic. This one’s a little different (and maybe even more experimental) and I’ve split it into three parts because otherwise this would’ve gone over the word limit, lol. I still gotta finish Part 2 because I re-wrote this whole thing a bajillion freaking times, but in true Nebula fashion, Part 3 is done, wtf. Hope y'all enjoy! :) I’d love to read your comments/critiques and please do point out any mistakes I may have missed. ^^

Chapter List: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Originally posted by deangifsdaily

Warm leather and the tang of silver bullets; skin kissed by the summer and a sandy scattering of freckles; sharp green eyes with even sharper focus. Then he grins and it’s like the goddamn sun.

Dean stares because you’re out of place; you’re awkward angles and long knitted sweaters with roses, left unbuttoned and flowing behind you like a cape in the midst of tank tops and tight ripped jeans and hair flowing easier than the beer is.

Dean stares because you’re alone with a flowery backpack stuffed with clothes, you’re heavy boots over black tights and you look too young - too naive - to be in a place like this. But there’s a bus station half a mile down and people fall asleep in corners with hats over their eyes as they wait seven, eight hours for the next bus.

You’re not a runaway. You’re a purse hanging around your neck like some Victorian lady and vague concern through the corner of your eye.

People stare. You don’t pretend not to notice.

You’re a laptop and a frayed paperback. You’re legs crossed up on the seat and a hopeless, helpless smile when a gruff guy in a white apron puts a sandwich in front of you. He doesn’t notice and Dean wonders whether that upsets you.

A taste of fondness first comes as a tickle in his chest when you’re all shifty eyes before you lift the sandwich up to your mouth and take a bite bigger than your mouth can open. You’re big, puffed up cheeks and fingers gripping bread as if someone might take it away. But you’re also long sips from the straw and almost audible sighs that he can hear all the way from where he’s sitting as the cold fizz of Coke hits your tongue.

Dean is a flirty grin and an arched brow when a waitress saunters up to him and offers more beer, and Sam is knowing eyes over the rim of his brown bottle.

“What?”

Sam’s lips twitch.

“Nothing.”

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