frozentundraguy

November 1960 to November 1960

Been busy with company the past few days. However I want to send a huge thank you to @Barth for the issue of Junior Woodchucks #71. The packing was very secure with several layers of bubble wrap inside a strong box!!

Count me in also.

November of 1961 to November of 1961

I recall watching that episode, and thought they packed quite an armful of suspense into 30 minutes at the bus depot. About 4 years ago I watched all of the episodes of Twilight Zone. One of my favorites was episode 13 from season 3. Buster Keaton travels from 1890 to 1961, and back. I think it the only episode played entirely for laughs.

Ordered this early last week and it arrived on Friday. The omnibus covers 2 years worth of Batman and Detective comics from the start of the Silver Age. The books has approximately 717 pages of comics and comic covers, and contains Detective Comics #233 which features the first Batwoman story.

Tales to Astonish Monster at my window to Tales to Astonish monster on my heels in the storm sewer

That has to be wrong, she was my 8th grade English teacher.

Spear being used on goombah in a robe to spear being held by Sheena riding a panther

I took a screen shot, In this case I chose the letter 'D' then scrolled down to Detective Comics Complete. Then I took the mouse and hovered over 'my collection; and 'set manager' is there as an option along with 'comic manager'.

Monstro to Mister Morgan's Monster

I had that same issue back on the 11th of December. I was able to log in by opening a second occurrence of CGC, then I chose explore other users sets, from there you can find your own set, then chose set manager and edit or browse your sets. Since your logged in on the first session your already logged in on the second session.

From Goliath to Titano the Super Ape

Your welcome @jlouque. It's good to see that all of the books arrived safely. I wasn't exactly sure what books might fit your taste the best so I included something of a variety, well except for two issues of The Son of Satan.

One of my best friends is a postal employee, and they take every possible day off believe me.

Sounds like a plan Winston.

I was going to ship the prize I offered out to shadow, but it's a postal holiday as yesterday was Sunday. At least I have the books boxed up and ready to go.

I must have mis-fired on the Ghost Rider book

I will select; #2 VG reader mags, MAD detached centerfold and Epic "Frazetta" cover detached top staple, Ghost Rider 18 30 cent variant cgc 4.0 donated by ADAMANTIUM

I will be picking live.

Eat too much for Christmas dinner anyone?

From the Molten Man to the Heat is on with ice on the side

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Ok here we are on the verge of Christmas, and what have I to post but some nonsense I wrote about 5 years ago. It's a short venture into the twilight zone where a pumpkin to the head knocks Ichabod Crane back in time about 20 years, just in time to take the place of Paul Revere. The midnight ride of Ichabod crane .. substituting for Paul Revere Twas a fine night to be out for a ride little did he have but humble pride over the narrow bridge he hastily crossed not knowing that all soon would be lost Then an unerring sphere whistled through the air true to its course, it him plumb square that stout pumpkin exploded upon hitting his head as his lights dimmed he wished he'd stayed in bed A long time passed before he awoke but not by the road, nor the hoary wizened oak Instead he found himself near the swelling seas side "What has happened now", he was heard to have cried Soon he was surrounded by deadly earnest men "Wake up good fellow why are you sleeping in the glen Were looking for a good man who has a fast horse as Revere's horse is lame and cannot run the course" "We have no horses and no one else is nearby so we implore you to take reins and fly as the British are coming, and it's now your mission to dust yourself off and warn of the invasion from Britain!" Part II So Ichabod, decided to accept that dangerous role No one seemed to have noticed that he was one shaky soul He'd make that ride through a hail full of shots and let the historians see if they could connect the dots He wearily climbed the tower of the Old North Church, Up the wooden stairs, with trembling tread did he lurch "I must have bats in my belfry" passerby's overheard, But he surprised the skeptics, and from their chairs they stirred Suddenly all his thoughts went askew As a shadowy shape rose out of the gloom, Where the creek widened out and threatened impending doom A line of pumpkins whistled from out of the fog "That's not in the -script", and he ducked like a dog It was twelve by the rusty village clock When he pulled into Medford, he had a huge shock with fresh memories of the horseman, he let out a wail waking the town's men, and setting them upon the Britishers trail then he noticed the slimy abundance of bog and shuddered again as he was overrun by the fog It was one AM as he heard the town crier shout, When he eased his old mare into Lexington. He saw the withered wicker sticks from witches games played, replete with nasty tricks their worn out brooms stark and bare, leaped out at him, from melancholy thin air. It was an hour later at the next village gate, When the British scouts strolled into town He heard the beating of their drums and the wispy wings of bats in flight and felt the dread of awful fright blowing over the stirring leaves and no one was safe in bed that night much to the stealthy invaders delight as the British prepared their lines in the road soon to be wracked by many a musket ball load So you thought you knew the rest so well but sit still yet and listen for a spell The British troops they stopped for beer and the Yankee militia caught them from the rear While behind the tables and one lonely bar stool stood Ichabod still looking to see if he was followed by a ghoul So through the night rode Reveres stand in twin but on that night he rarely ventured in from out of the cold to the warmth of the fire even though he would repeatedly tire And his voice tired, though, from many shouts of alarm would prevent many that night from serious harm for borne by the scare of those pumpkins thrown he would ride all night on his bedraggled roan For in those hours of fright and needless fear the nation would waken calmly and rousingly cheer The slogging shuffle step of that horse so plain And the midnight message borne by Ichabod Crane