Posted on 02/14/2018 11:16:48 AM PST by BenLurkin
Football concusions?
Its not a boy? WACK
Failed Coup attempt.
Courtesy ping
Whatever they do, they MUST NOT REMOVE THE STAKES!...............................VAMPIRES!.....................
Maybe they’ve found Grendel’s house.
More realistically, I don’t see any big mystery, since it’s likely someone just making trophies out of kills.
Predator
This article is so terribly written that I hesitate to comment as I dont understand the exact nature of the confusion of the researchers.
Rather fascinating
Back in the old days they had editors. They have been replaced by the computer program “spellcheck”. Not really an advance forward in journalism where quantity is valued over quality.
In Sweden eh?
Must have been the very strict proto-Viking immigration court. The first knocks to the invaders heads apparently didn’t get the message across.
Sweden for Swedes only, ja.
Ancient Politicians.
One word describes why it happened.
JEALOUSY.
These ‘heads’ were found in a bog, so they may have been either human sacrifices, punished criminals, murder victims or a combination......................
They’re trying to figure out how it is the skulls were given identical damage, and then healed, and then later impaled.
Welcome to the Cave Gang. First-—the hammer to the head. If you live through that, you can be our slave.
“I’ll surrender my armies and hand up my sword
depending on how you will treat me, my lord.”
The weary commander, resolve in his voice,
sized up his opponent then gave her a choice.
“Stand down your attackers, call off the strike,
and I’ll mercifully leave your head on a pike.”
“What would you do with my body below?”
the wide-eyed foreigner wanted to know.
“I’ll tie your bare limbs one each to a steed,
then drive them to gallop away at high speed.”
“And what would become of my thus quartered torso?”
“I’ll paint each limb blue then bludgeon it more so.”
“And will my piked head be looking toward home?”
the supplicant asked as the commander groaned.
“Listen, you jack-wad, you’re going to be dead.
What does it matter which way goes your head?”
With that the commander unsheathed his sword,
whacked his opponent, cut off her gourd.
The lesson, my children, to take from this bit
is get what you can; don’t sweat the small shit.
For a second there I thought that was Barky’s presidential portrait.
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