And I thought you were writing about the cocktail. Dang.

The other Bloody Mary sure does bring back some memories of crapping my pants every time I passed a mirror. It is interesting how these things travel right around the world many times over until almost every child is touched by it in one way other another.

We also had local legends. One was rather funny ... there was a hill named after Simpson and his donkey (WW1 heroes). The kids, for some reason, used to freak out around Anzac Day (WW1 memorial holiday) because they thought he was an evil ghost haunting the hill. I'd have to laugh at it now, if Simpson was haunting the hill, he certainly couldn't pick a more boring spot and he wouldn't exactly be the Devil Incarnate!

Later on, we studied Bloody Mary in history, as in Henry V111's daughter and Queen Elizabeth 1's sister. She was a nasty one, the last rite of Catholic rule in England before protestantism took over and the Bishop of Canterbury started wandering around in frou frou frocks. It certainly took the wind out of the story's sails. Dang, she was just another boring historical figure.

The veracity of this legend will be forever in question, but one universal truth still remains. It really is not a good idea to mess with the occult - whether or not evil entities exist is irrelevant, as some have been known to go mad with fear. I have seen some rather weird stuff in my time and I'd never mess with it again.