In Honour of the day

[belcantin]

Truly, This is my favourite day of the year. Or, one of my favourites. Not June the thirteenth, no. But, any Friday the thirteenth is indeed my favourite. The superstition surround the day is immense, and I enjoy disbelieving it. However, there's always a part of me, deep down, that has the innate fear in its tiny grasp. This, is why I leave you with the immortal words of Vincent Price...

Darkness Falls Across The Land;
The Midnite Hour Is Close At Hand.
Creatures Crawl In Search Of Blood
To Terrorize Your Neighbourhood.
And Whosoever Shall Be Found
Without The Soul For Getting Down
Must Stand And Face The Hounds Of Hell
And Rot Inside A Corpse's Shell.
The Foulest Stench Is In The Air,
The Funk Of Forty Thousand Years,
And Grizzy Ghouls From Every Tomb
Are Closing In To Seal Your Doom.

I bid you, adieu.