dripping


                    
                    
                

                

                

            

        
    







            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    

                        


	

	
    
        

            

                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        Drips
        

            
            Drips
        

    

    

         
Drips

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        Roses Are Red Nuts Are Brown
        

            
            Roses Are Red Nuts Are Brown
        

    

    

         
Roses Are Red Nuts Are Brown

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        In Class
        

            
            In Class
        

    

    

         
In Class

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        Rose Are Red
        

            
            Rose Are Red
        

    

    

         
Rose Are Red

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        feeling-it
        

            
            feeling-it
        

    

    

         
feeling-it

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

        to-go-home
        

            
            to-go-home
        

    

    

         
to-go-home

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

         drip drip drip
        

            
             drip drip drip
        

    

    

         
 drip drip drip

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

         bleeding
        

            
             bleeding
        

    

    

         
 bleeding

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

         satanic
        

            
             satanic
        

    

    

         
 satanic

    



                
                    
                    
                    
                    

    

         sagging
        

            
             sagging
        

    

    

         
 sagging

    



                
            

        

    
    

        🔥 | Latest
    

    
    

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

                
            

            
            
thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejor...

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
sixpenceee:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated. (Source)

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
sixpenceee:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated. (Source)

                
            

            
            
sixpenceee:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of wh...

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: @PENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 OPENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 @PENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 IF YOU TELL ANYON
 RAY
dykedottir:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

alwaysbewoke:

jesussaysno:
I don’t get the man one ?
the entire series is focused on stopping all abuse
the man here has his mouth covered up by a woman wearing a wedding ring. meaning he is being abused by his wife. of the men i’ve known and spoken to about being abused by their wives, one of the common ways wives will try to “make up” for the abuse is literally with money. fucking crazy sad shit but women who abuse their men (bf or husband) also believe us to be super materialistic and so they can just buy us. i could go on but i don’t want to. it’s too fucking gross. 
this is clearly pedophila in the catholic church. a profoundly evil act that is is primarily aimed at little boys. 
this is child molestation in the black community that tarted little black girls overwhelmingly. usually by a family member and usually a male family member with candy being used to buy their silence. 
and this is an abused wife. the hand is male wearing a wedding ring. similar to the wife abusing the husband, an attempt to buy silence happens with flowers, candy and jewelry being the common gifts.  
i respect that this artist (a woman i believe) covered such a wild range of abuse even the ones we don’t talk about. 

I think that’s a dripping anatomical heart in the flower, too. :( 

Still don’t get the man one tbh. Is there an epidemic of rich women beating their husbands?

I honestly don’t know. I am not familiar with the phenomenon, but knowing that male-on-female domestic violence vastly outweighs the reverse, I had to assume that it was included because otherwise she would have caught hell for it. I mean, apparently it does happen, so… 

Male violence against women and children is at actual epidemic levels. I know a few men who have suffered violence at the hands of female partners and it’s awful and unacceptable. But they were also all in a position to 1) leave and easily survive and/or 2) if they hit back would very much be able to stop the attack. As in if they hit back the woman would be ko’d. I’m not saying female on male violence is ok I’m saying it isn’t a ‘thing’ in the way the others are. 


Agreed. Men have the means to leave abusive relationships much quicker than most abused women do (if ever). 

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: @PENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 OPENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 @PENCILEDCELEBRITIES
 IF YOU TELL ANYON
 RAY
dykedottir:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

alwaysbewoke:

jesussaysno:
I don’t get the man one ?
the entire series is focused on stopping all abuse
the man here has his mouth covered up by a woman wearing a wedding ring. meaning he is being abused by his wife. of the men i’ve known and spoken to about being abused by their wives, one of the common ways wives will try to “make up” for the abuse is literally with money. fucking crazy sad shit but women who abuse their men (bf or husband) also believe us to be super materialistic and so they can just buy us. i could go on but i don’t want to. it’s too fucking gross. 
this is clearly pedophila in the catholic church. a profoundly evil act that is is primarily aimed at little boys. 
this is child molestation in the black community that tarted little black girls overwhelmingly. usually by a family member and usually a male family member with candy being used to buy their silence. 
and this is an abused wife. the hand is male wearing a wedding ring. similar to the wife abusing the husband, an attempt to buy silence happens with flowers, candy and jewelry being the common gifts.  
i respect that this artist (a woman i believe) covered such a wild range of abuse even the ones we don’t talk about. 

I think that’s a dripping anatomical heart in the flower, too. :( 

Still don’t get the man one tbh. Is there an epidemic of rich women beating their husbands?

I honestly don’t know. I am not familiar with the phenomenon, but knowing that male-on-female domestic violence vastly outweighs the reverse, I had to assume that it was included because otherwise she would have caught hell for it. I mean, apparently it does happen, so… 

Male violence against women and children is at actual epidemic levels. I know a few men who have suffered violence at the hands of female partners and it’s awful and unacceptable. But they were also all in a position to 1) leave and easily survive and/or 2) if they hit back would very much be able to stop the attack. As in if they hit back the woman would be ko’d. I’m not saying female on male violence is ok I’m saying it isn’t a ‘thing’ in the way the others are. 


Agreed. Men have the means to leave abusive relationships much quicker than most abused women do (if ever). 

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youFuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
                
            

            
            
dykedottir:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

layingdownsomebatfeets:

cumbler-tumbler:

alwaysbewoke:

jesussaysno:
I don’t ge...

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: dripping smoke wtf (Via: unknown) DM for credz
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: dripping smoke wtf (Via: unknown) DM for credz
                
                

                
            

            
            
dripping smoke wtf (Via: unknown) DM for credz

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

                
            

            
            
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall wa...

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

                
            

            
            
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall wa...

            
            
        

    



            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                






            

        

        
        

            

                







    dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                dripping: MARGORIE MCCALL
 LIVED ONCE, BURIED TWICE
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

what did i just read

Irish women are strong as fuck


“I lived, bitch” irl

                
            

            
            
lord-kitschener:
harokissmile:

ksteeno:

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall wa...