In Which Things Get Creepy

Howdy ho, y'all! And for that matter, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Hope you enjoyed the fancy colors. Anyway, this is gonna be a wee bit short since I still have to pack for my 12-day adventure to Moscow, Kiev, and Finland, but I figured that I'd get in the spirit with one last post before I embark on my snowy journey through one of the most questionable Russian airlines of all time. So let's get this party started with one of the strangest and most disturbing concepts of the Russian culture:

Baba Yaga (баба яга)

Now, don't go thinking that this is just some old lady in a pink track suit who can throw a really crazy party, cause this is what she looks like:

Also resembles my flirty face

Now that I've got your attention (maybe,) let me tell you a little bit about this looker. I like to believe that we all have a little bit of Baba Yaga in us, but maybe that's just my bitterness about life acting up. Basically, Baba Yaga is a very old woman who lives in a house with hen feet in the middle of the woods. When it's not doing some sort of special chicken dance, the house is surrounded by a fence made of human bones, poles with skulls on them, servants, and men riding on horses. If a passer-by asks about the riders, she will gladly explain them; if the passer-by asks about the servants, she kills him. No explanation exists as to why this is. When she's not in her chicken house, she's flying around on a giant mortar (yes, as in mortar and pestle. Because who wouldn't choose that as their primary source of transportation,) kidnapping and eating bad children. In the past (and maybe even now,) Baba Yaga was used by Russian parents to prevent their children from becoming little hooligans. So in other words, she's like the Russian Santa Claus, except your reward for being on the nice list is that you get to live.

She's climbin' in your windows, she's snatchin' your people up

If you would like to learn more, you can find the poorly-translated legend here. 

Happy Halloween, everyone! Sorry again about the pitiful length.