Taho Vendors put mix cement on taho

Taho is one of the morning snacks in the Philippines, second to that of Pandesal (Salted Bread). It was made from soy beans from where soy milk and tofu came from. However, have you heard that taho vendors put cement on their product to maintain the solidity of the taho? Well, actually it is not true. 

Source: http://philurbanlegends.blogspot.com

The Face

Excerpted from Spooky Indiana

Retold by S.E. Schlosser

The medical student toppled into love as soon as he set eyes on Sheila, the beautiful new transfer student. She had masses of long black hair and eyelashes so long they got tangled in her curls when she leaned over her desk. The medical student had a withdrawn nature, though not by inclination. He’d learned the hard way that people avoided him when they heard about his insane father; locked away in an asylum. But he had to overcome his taciturn nature or risk losing Sheila to one of the other fellows that panted after her. So the medical student volunteered to tutor her Sheila in one of her classes. After that, it was easy. Sheila toppled into love with the medical student as madly as he was in love with her. They went everywhere together, hardly bearing to part for classes.

The medical student lived in a bubble of joy, until the day he saw Sheila speaking to a good-looking fellow who lived in the same dorm. They were laughing together over something one of their professors had said in history class, and a shaft of sheer jealousy pierced the medical student's gut. How dare she laugh with another man? He confronted his Sheila with her perceived trespass, and she stared at him incredulously. “You’re crazy!” she said. He winced, reminded of his father, and shouted insults at Sheila until she stalked off in a rage.

They made up over dinner, and things were fine for awhile, until the medical student saw Sheila borrow a pen from a handsome blond fellow at the library. That set him off again. They hissed angry words at each other until the librarian kicked them out. The medical student huddled on the narrow bed in his dorm room until black anger gave way to common sense. He called Sheila and apologized. She accepted his apology, and they were back together.

The medical student was scheduled to take Sheila to a local dance on Friday night, so he rushed back to the dorm to dress in his best. As he turned to leave, the medical student noticed that a scalpel had fallen out of his medical bag and lay haphazardly on his desk. He thrust it carelessly inside the bag and to went to pick up his girlfriend and escort her to the dance.

The House In Project 4

I was in sixth grade. We used to move a lot back in those days. I've lived in six different places so far, and what I hated about it was not about leaving friends behind (I went to the same catholic all-girls school and I never made friends with neighbors. Too many dog-eaters and gossips); I hated packing.

Anyway, we lived in a house in project 4. I can't put the entire address here, but it was near Kalantiaw. It was a small house -three tiny bedrooms, one bathroom, and one outhouse, a kitchen next to the dining room, a living room and a veranda. The house also had weird wall carvings. There was one on the veranda wall: a Mindanao scene with Muslim princesses and servants holding umbrellas over their heads and whatnot. Another one in the dining room depicted the Last Supper (hardy har) and another one near the bathroom depicted two tribal urns. We lived there for about two years, and then my mom decided that the house had gotten too small for us, so she decided to rent a house in Pasig instead.

A lot of funny things happened that day. A lot of funny things happened at that house, actually. Once, we had a caterpillar infestation. I guess it doesn't sound all that weird, but our house didn't even have a proper garden. What we had were an old tree stump that held a coconut cup with an orchid in it, clumps of aloe vera and a small patch of caribou grass that passed as our front lawn. The caterpillars were everywhere for days, maybe weeks. Our neighbours didn't have this problem, but we did.

The day we were going to move, the moving truck didn't make it to our house because it had engine trouble. We called out for another truck, which also didn't make it to our house, because of a minor accident en route which involved electrical wires. My dad joked about how someone or something didn't want us to leave.

On moving day, my sister and I were the only ones in the house. My other sisters hated packing and had disappeared before we could ask them to help. Sunny and I were in her bedroom, tying up books in bundles. The bedroom had a window that faced an old, disused shed next to the outhouse. I've never been inside that shed. It was always kept locked. We were almost finished tidying up when we heard noises coming from the shed. It sounded like random things were falling to the ground: plates, pieces of metal, etc. My sister and I looked at each other, scared, and she suggested that we sing a gospel song to drive whatever was making the noise away (I was a Roman Catholic in those days, and so was she. Still is). We started singing, and trying to finish tidying up as fast as we could. I was tying a piece of twine around a bunch of books when we both heard it: someone, or something, was singing along with us, and the voice was coming from the shed. The padlocked, disused shed. The voice sounded amused, and it knew the words to the song. Remember, no one was in the house except me and my sister. My dad was sitting near the gate. My sister and I ran for the door as fast as we could.

After a few hours in the sunshine, I felt brave enough to go back inside and finish cleaning up. I don't know where my sister went; maybe she joined my other sisters. Anyway, I walked back in, broom and dustpan in hand, and walked through the living room to the dining room. The moment I got there, I heard another noise: like somebody was breaking dishes and throwing silverware against the metal sink. I summoned all my courage and peeked into the kitchen. There was nothing there and the sink was empty. I ran back outside and didn't go back in alone.

I've never been back to see the house. Last I heard, somebody had built another floor and was using the house as a rehearsal studio.

I don't know if you believe my story or not, but I have no reason to lie. I'm 25 and I have a kid now, and I'm no longer as starved for attention as I was back in my teen years. Besides, I may have been a lot of things at any point in my life, but I was never a liar.

Cheers.

P.s. If you live/d in project 4, Q.C., Philippines and you think you may know the house I'm talking about, drop me a line.

Hope you liked my story. I have more.

Source: http://www.yourghoststories.com/real-ghost-story.php?story=10022

The Knife in the Briefcase

Also known as "The Hatchet in the Handbag" or "The Hairy-Armed Hitchhiker"

Example #1

As told by Ann MacDonald:

One summer day in Southampton, New York, a woman pulled into a gas station. As the attendant pumped gas, the woman told him she was in a hurry to pick up her daughter, who had just finished an art class in East Hampton.

A very well-dressed man walked over to her car and started talking to her. He explained that his rental car had died, and he needed a ride to East Hampton for an appointment. She said she would be happy to give him a ride. He put his briefcase in the backseat and said he was going to the men's room quickly.

The woman looked at her watch and suddenly panicked. She drove off quickly, forgetting that the man was coming back to the car for a ride.

She thought nothing of him again until she and her daughter pulled into their driveway. She saw his briefcase and realized she had forgotten him! She opened it looking for some form of identification so she could notify him about his belongings. Inside she found nothing but a knife and a roll of duct tape!

Example #2

As told by Barb Thaine:

A young woman was leaving a local shopping mall, only to find that she had a flat tire. A well-dressed young man carrying a briefcase came up to her and asked if she needed help. She told him she would call AAA, but when she did she was told it would be over an hour before a truck would be dispatched to her site. The gentleman urged her to let him fix her flat and she finally allowed him to do so.

When he was finished, he asked if she would give him a ride to the other side of the mall, as his car was parked there. Looking at her watch, she realized how late it was and apologized to the young man saying that she needed to get home as it was her daughter's birthday and her husband was at home with the two children awaiting her arrival. The man went on his way.

Killer in the Back Seat

Driving home on a deserted freeway late at night, a woman spots a pair of headlights in her rear view mirror, closing in on her. She slows down, hoping the car will pass her. It doesn’t.

She turns off the freeway, but so does the car behind her, its bright lights flashing continuously. She squeals into her driveway and races up the sidewalk. The driver of the other car pops out of his vehicle, screaming for her to get in the house and lock the door!

Minutes later, the cops arrive and she sees the man that had been following her, now in pieces on her lawn.

The police tell her that he called them, saying that he saw a man in her car’s backseat, wielding a butcher knife. Every time he flashed his brights and got closer, the man would cower back down.

The man with the butcher knife was never found.

Source: http://opishposh.com

The White Death

This is a story about a little girl in Scotland who hated life so much that she wanted to destroy every last trace of herself. She finally decided to commit suicide, and shortly afterwards her family found out what she’d done.

In a horrible twist, every member of her family died only a few days later too, their limbs torn apart. The legend says that when you learn about the White Death, the girl’s ghost might come and find you, and knock repeatedly on your door. Each knock gets louder, till you open the door and she kills you for fear that you’ll tell someone else of her existence; her main goal is to prevent anyone from knowing about her.

Like most urban legends, the story is probably nothing more than the wild imagination of a modern Aesop—but all the same, it’s always good practice to find out who’s standing behind the door.

Source: http://listverse.com