With a Spooky Girl Like You…

Mark Twain made an interesting observation that may or may not be true, but these days it certainly makes sense. “Man is the only animal who blushes…or needs to.” The “…or needs to” is the key phrase here. We do some pretty crazy things, that’s for sure. When it comes to sex, crazy can get even crazier. A case in point is a 27-year-old English woman who claims to have such mind-blowing sex with ghosts that she has given up having sex with men.

Amethyst Realm (yes, that’s her name – I couldn’t make this up any better if I tried), of Bristol, says that she’s had sex with over “twenty ghosts.” The first time was 12 years ago when she felt a “presence in the house” which, naturally, just escalated to doing the deed. At which point, she was hooked. This ethereal affair lasted for three years until her husband came home early from work one day and caught her. Or rather, caught the shadow of her lover on the wall of their shared home. While no details were given about this “unveiling” of the truth, presumably the marriage ended at that point because her husband isn’t mentioned again in her story. If you ask me, I think that her infidelity would have been the least of her husband’s concerns. But hey, that’s just me.

Undeterred by this turn of events, Ms. Realm apparently let the spirit world know that she was available for some spectral shenanigans, because over 20 ghosts have since stopped by. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m not slut spirit-shaming by any means. The sex is so good, she claims, that she’s given up on living, breathing men altogether. Hey, to each their own, I guess…?

To take it one step further, she even wants to get pregnant by one of her ghostly companions. I’m not sure if she’s discussed this with her spectral buddies or not, but I can’t help but think that ghosts aren’t exactly up for co-parenting. I could be wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last. But I’ve always assumed that hauntings and otherworldly goings-on would take up a huge chunk of their time. I’m also really curious as to how child support would work in that scenario…or, if the baby took after dear old Dad, how she would even keep track of her spawn offspring (cause, you know, it would be invisible), but, whatever. I’m not even going to touch on the intricacies of childbirth. If horror movies have taught me anything, it’s that ghost-human pregnancies are nothing if not a very, very bad idea.

Now, I’m not saying that Ms. Realm has lost it. That’s not my place. I will say, however, that I hope she gets the help she so desperately needs. Whether that’s from a shrink or a demonologist is up for grabs.

Some psychiatrists believe that she suffers from “sleep paralysis.”  It’s a condition where one gets stuck between a sleeping state and wakefulness. You feel immobilized. You can sense a “presence” near you. You can feel as though someone is touching you. I guess at that point, anything can happen. Our minds are strange, complicated things.

If, per chance, her story belongs in the true-romance section of the bookstore, instead of the horror section…it flies in the face of everything I’ve ever learned about paranormal activity and my entire life has been a lie. With the one exception of “The Entity,” I’m much more accustomed to ghosts and other demonic entities trying to murder people in incredibly creative ways instead of searching the earthly realm for hook-ups.

Truth be told, maybe she’s just having a bit of fun with all of us. Then again, maybe it’s just a spooky kind of love.

 

Late Night Boogeyman Revisited

So with Halloween right around the corner and enough horror movies marathoning on t.v. to make my twisted little heart skip a beat, I’ve been thinking about monsters and ghosties and boogeymen more than usual. I thought I would revisit an entry I did a while back…to sort of garner a bit of sympathy or empathy (?) for the “other side” as it were.

Original Post ——

There was this movie that came out in 1989 called Little Monsters starring child-actor-of-the-decade Fred Savage and Howie Mandel in a career defining role as Maurice, the monster who lives under the bed in a world full of ghouls and goblins. Sort of like a live-action Monsters Inc. In the movie Fred Savage’s character gets taken into this netherworld and learns that those scary spirits under his bed are by and large pretty fun-loving dudes who just want to live their life and have a good time.

Why did this thought come to me? My mind is hard to shut off sometimes and one night when I was attempting (unsuccessfully) to doze off, I noticed the light in my bedroom closet had been left on. I didn’t remember leaving it on and couldn’t recall even being in the closet at all that day. It made me think about just how long the light had been burning before I noticed it. And then, as so often happens to me late at night (or any other time if I want to be completely honest), my mind wandered off the rails.

Lying there in bed I thought that maybe it wasn’t me who turned it on. Maybe it was a boogeyman. And if it’s a boogeyman, what if he’s afraid of the dark? What if all these monsters children grow up fearing are simply misunderstood creatures that have been swept under our beds or crammed into our closets because eons ago humans forced out all the boogeymen so we didn’t have to cohabit ? Is it possible that the monsters under our bed are refugees? Did we put them there centuries ago and now they only come out at night when they know we’ll be asleep so they won’t run into the scary humans?  But….they’re afraid of the dark.  So once in a while as the others are huddled around trash-can fires in their ghost world, a few adventurous boogeymen (probably children boogeymen…because I doubt the grown up boogeymen can control their kids at all times any better than we can control ours all the time) step out into a human’s closet and, frightened by the shadows and odd shapes that the clothes and sundry items make on the wall, they turn on the light.  Perhaps they are just misunderstood, much like Maurice and his brood, and we should really just hand them a flashlight instead of screaming at moving shadows.

That would definitely account for why my closet light is on…I mean it makes sense, right?  And if there really is a boogeyman in my closet who is afraid of the dark, who am I to get up and turn the light out on him thereby frightening him to death?  So I stayed in my warm, cozy bed, looking at the soft light beaming out from under the closet door and I pondered the various underworld creatures who might benefit from some night-lights and a little empathy.

Yes folks, this is what I think about as I’m trying to pass out after a long day. Maybe instead of worrying about spearheading humanitarian efforts to create a cross-species allegiance between humans and monsters I should just go to Walgreens and buy some Zzzzquil.

Please sir...can you spare a flashlight...??

Please sir…can you spare a flashlight…??

Horror House for Sale

I think I found a legit haunted house. No, no, really. A legit haunted house. Or at least a home worthy of a gory horror movie, if not of the ghostly variety.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about relocating so I’ve been doing some light research on Zillow, realtor.com, and other real estate sites when I stumbled across one of the most bizarre postings I’ve ever read. Now, I’ve noticed the home seems to be making the rounds on social media lately (obviously I’m not the only person trolling real estate ads) but just in case you haven’t seen it, I thought I would share. Oh, and just for the record, while the “for sale” ad has been removed from Zillow and realtor.com (probably because it’s causing quite the stir), I did snag some screenshots which I will happily share.

Everything started out well and good with the listing. Just what you’d expect. The opening picture of the house was lovely. The information about the number of bathrooms and bedrooms seemed normal. The square footage was right in the sweet spot that most people look for. I thought to myself, “This house looks great” and continued to read up about it. It didn’t take long for things to take a very dark, very creepy turn for the worse.

photo courtesy of realtor.com – click picture to go to site where more pics are shown

The first cause for concern? There was a tenant still living in the house. That’s not weird in and of itself, but as the listing explained, this tenant cannot be disturbed and while he or she is on a lease, they pay no rent and cannot be evicted for non-payment. So, basically it’s just an entity floating around the property that you can’t get rid of or take any action to remove. Kinda sounds like a ghost to me.

Second cause for concern: While there is an upstairs unit to the house, as the post laid out in very clear, no uncertain terms, this unit cannot and will NOT be shown to any potential buyers under any circumstances whatsoever. It is strictly off limits. I kid you not, this is what it said. It sort of reminded me of Beetlejuice, when the new family moved in and there was no way to get into the mysterious attic. I picture in this house an impenetrable door with who knows what hiding behind it.

screenshot via realtor.com — info has since been removed

Third cause for concern: I was scrolling through the pictures and one in particular caught my eye. One of the doors is covered in some sort of red spatter. I’m not a CSI detective so I can’t confirm or deny what it may be, but one thing I know is that red liquid splashed along a broken door doesn’t bode well for the property’s history.

photo courtesy of realtor.com

Fourth cause for concern: Putting on my sleuthing cap, I dug a little bit deeper and pasted together a curious timeline for this house. It was being rented out as late as February 28th of this year. The tenant sought was a professional couple or single. No mention of an off-limits section upstairs or a mysterious tenant — though an artist appears to be in residence.

screenshot via hotpads.com

Now, just a touch over two months later, the pictures of the house that are online show a dwelling in total disrepair. Walls are gutted. There are holes in the ceiling (I don’t even want to know). Floor tiles have been uprooted. Random junk and garbage are stacked both in and outside the house. Old, rusted appliances lean against the walls. Unexplained leaks coming from upstairs — which, isn’t that where the unseen tenant resides? I’m not going to guess as to what’s smeared on the walls. What the hell happened to this place in those two months? Or did it always look like that, even as it was being advertised as a rental property? If that’s the case, that’s pretty damn frightening, I must say.

photo courtesy of realtor.com

 

photo courtesy of realtor.com

Now, normally I’d be all for living in a haunted house. I have no issue with ghosts. However, given these four points, I believe I am well justified in saying that we have the beginnings of a real-life horror story here — and not the fun variety either.

Honestly, isn’t this how horror movies start? A nice couple buy a fixer-upper. All seems well the first couple days into their renovation. Then, one night, a weird noise comes from the supposedly vacant upstairs unit. Later, doors that should be locked are left wide open. Next, strange signs that someone or something has been moving around when they’re asleep. All this leading up to the climactic moment when the unseen housemate bursts through the wall with a pickax trying to kill the unfortunate couple. Given how those stories normally go, the pickax wielding roommate is usually pretty darn successful in quenching their blood lust with their handy dandy farming implements.

So, yeah, I think I’ll pass on putting in a bid.

Grandma Mooney’s Spooky and Wonderful Gift

I’ve been thinking a lot of my beloved Grandma Mooney (great-grandmother to those just tuning in).  Thank you for letting me share her stories with you all; I think you’ll agree she was a very rare and highly entertaining individual indeed.

Now, I do dabble a bit in the occult.  I love giving or receiving tarot card readings.  I also strongly believe in ghosts to the point that I would never dare make one angry, or even dream of playing the Ouija board alone.  I strongly believe there is more to this world than our limited five senses can ever know or that science can prove or disprove, at least for now – I mean we’re learning more and more every day about the world around us, right? Who knows what they may find out.  I also strongly believe that you should agree with me, or I will use my ancient Voodoo magic to hex you.  Nah, just kidding on that one, but I am a firm believer in the paranormal in general.

Grandma Mooney had a unique ability that luckily, I did NOT inherit…it can’t have been pleasant.  It wasn’t a super power like flying, freezing time, or moving things with her mind (seriously though, how cool would that be!?), but it was a spooky gift for sure.  Grandma Mooney always knew when someone was dying.  She never got upset; she was completely matter of fact about it.  She’d get the feeling in her bones (I assume it was her bones at any rate), and just nonchalantly announce, “John’s dying.  Gotta go,” and then she’d be off, to go help the family.  Without fail, whoever the unfortunate soul was that she would name would either be on their deathbed or dead before she even got there.  Of course, back then there was no Facebook, no cell phone texting, and no emails; this gift was pure intuition. She was always accurate, and it was really, very creepy.

While we’re on the subject of death and dying, did I tell you about the time I almost killed Grandma Mooney?  If it wasn’t my fault, it might have been her sheer orneriness. Let me explain…and spoiler…there was a happy ending, no Grandmothers were hurt in this story.

My grandfather, god bless him – I loved him to pieces – enjoyed three things in his life: playing the banjo, singing, and drinking beer. He drank beer like some people drink soda pop or ice tea. And for the most part, he could handle his alcohol. Later on in life, he decided he’d had enough and just stopped, cold turkey, and never looked back. But back in the day, when he was especially deep into his cups, he liked to get out the banjo and entertain all and sundry – with bluegrass and hymns being his favorite music of choice. The more beer he drank, the more boisterous his hymns and bluegrass songs would become.

This one particular day, when I was 7 or 8 years old, Grandpa Walker was really going at it with his hymns while Grandma Mooney ate a piece of cornbread.  You may know, old-school cornbread was really dry and would fall apart when you ate it.  Anyway, I got really carried away by grandfather’s music this day, and before you know it, I was howling like a dog on the front porch. Yeah, I was an ornery child. Like great-grandmother like great-granddaughter.

This tickled Grandma Mooney to the point of laughing her ass off, but as luck would have it, she started choking on her cornbread.  I was so scared that I ran away for the rest of the afternoon.  No way was I going to stick around to see what happened!  All I know is Grandma Mooney was laughing and choking, so I did what any reasonable 7 or 8-year-old kid would do; I ran for the hills.  Not my bravest moment, to be sure.

One thing was guaranteed.  If she actually did die choking on cornbread, she would definitely come back to haunt me.  And if she didn’t…

…she was definitely going to kick my ass.

How to Survive a Haunted House — Revisited

So in time for Halloween, I thought I would re-run an entry from January 26, 2014 that hopefully will save everyone a lot of heartache should they ever find themselves living with a less than friendly spirit.  You’re welcome. 

—————

Everybody already knows, and I am not ashamed to admit, that I love horror movies. Always have and always will.  The only other film genre that has a chance at being my #1 is this new (and much appreciated) wave of comic book inspired extravaganzas that have been inundating the screens for the past decade or so.  While I have a deep passion for horror movies it’s been quite a while since I’ve been truly creeped out by one. Outside of the original The Exorcist I honestly can’t recall a film that has sent that delicious chill up my spine, made my heart race, or gotten the hairs on my arms to stand on end.

Instead of true thrills and chills, it seems like the horror movies nowadays depend solely on what I call the “surprise factor” to scare their audiences.  As in, something suddenly jumps into or out of the scene or a door slams or a piece of furniture falls over with a loud bang. To me that’s a cheap scare. I much prefer the slow creepy build-up and truly “scary” maneuvers of the masters of horror.

I’m not complaining because I still do find the latest movies entertaining in their own right, just never truly hitting the mark as far as making me have to sleep with the lights on.  What does tend to happen though is that instead of getting goose bumps I end up shaking my head at the rampant stupidity that many of the main characters always seem to exhibit. Paranormal Activity is a perfect example of moronicness (yes, I’m aware that is not a real word) gone awry.

(Side note: I do understand that the creators of these movies have to put the characters in certain situations to make the action move forward and sometimes not acting like an idiot would be boring, but please allow me to remain on my soapbox a little bit longer.)

So, Paranormal Activity. Decent movie, a little dated I know, but I liked it — I just don’t get the logic behind it. If you think ghosts are hunkered down in your spot, why the hell would you go around the house trying to piss them off? It makes no sense. I can barely get a mouse to leave my kitchen. What chance does someone have of driving away a spirit from another dimension? Most people are terrified at the idea of living in a haunted house (a big reason why these movies are so successful, it’s a universal feeling), but think about it; as long as you just did your normal stuff, make breakfast, tidy up, mow the lawn, you’d probably be alright. Think of the ghost as a roommate. You might not like him or her, but suck it up.

I fully understand the natural instinct to guard your space. If I moved into a new place and found out it was haunted, I probably wouldn’t just shrug my shoulders and tell myself that these things just sort of happen sometimes.  I’d freak out some.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d have a ball.  But in a freaked out sort of way.  It’s totally justifiable to have a meltdown upon learning the news you’ve been duped into a haunted abode…at least for a little while.  Sure, you could take the righteous indignation attitude, as you would with any intruder, and stomp around with a baseball bat, yelling insults at Mr. or Mrs. Ghost to get them to show themselves.  Although seriously….WHY would you want them to show themselves!? I mean think about it!  That never ends well.  So just know that if and when this happens, chances are the ghost is going to be slightly upset at such disrespect and retaliation is to be expected.  In fact, what other reaction would you really expect to achieve?

I don’t have much face-to-face experience with an angry ghost but I can only assume whatever it has in mind to do, it’s going to be something I’m clearly and gloriously unprepared to handle. Which is what I want the characters in these movies to consider when they’re throwing their “show yourself” tantrums. It might be better just to let the ghost win right off the bat.  Let them have the house.  But if you do decide to stick around and share the place with Casper or say….a demon from Hell, just don’t take any tips from the Paranormal Activity’s resident genius Micah. The rule is simple: Don’t piss off the ghost. If you do, well, have fun in in the afterlife.

How to Survive a Haunted House

Everybody already knows, and I am not ashamed to admit, that I love horror movies. Always have and always will.  The only other film genre that has a chance at being my #1 is this new (and much appreciated) wave of comic book inspired extravaganzas that have been inundating the screens for the past decade or so.  While I have a deep passion for horror movies it’s been quite a while since I’ve been truly creeped out by one. Outside of the original The Exorcist I honestly can’t recall a film that has sent that delicious chill up my spine, made my heart race, or gotten the hairs on my arms to stand on end.

Instead of true thrills and chills, it seems like the horror movies nowadays depend solely on what I call the “surprise factor” to scare their audiences.  As in, something suddenly jumps into or out of the scene or a door slams or a piece of furniture falls over with a loud bang. To me that’s a cheap scare. I much prefer the slow creepy build-up and truly “scary” maneuvers of the masters of horror.

I’m not complaining because I still do find the latest movies entertaining in their own right, just never truly hitting the mark as far as making me have to sleep with the lights on.  What does tend to happen though is that instead of getting goose bumps I end up shaking my head at the rampant stupidity that many of the main characters always seem to exhibit. Paranormal Activity is a perfect example of moronicness (yes, I’m aware that is not a real word) gone awry.

(Side note: I do understand that the creators of these movies have to put the characters in certain situations to make the action move forward and sometimes not acting like an idiot would be boring, but please allow me to remain on my soapbox a little bit longer.)

So, Paranormal Activity. Decent movie, I liked it, but I just don’t get the logic behind it. If you think ghosts are hunkered down in your spot, why the hell would you go around the house trying to piss them off? It makes no sense. I can barely get a mouse to leave my kitchen. What chance does someone have of driving away a spirit from another dimension? Most people are terrified at the idea of living in a haunted house (a big reason why these movies are so successful, it’s a universal feeling), but think about it; as long as you just did your normal stuff, make breakfast, tidy up, mow the lawn, you’d probably be alright. Think of the ghost as a roommate. You might not like him or her, but suck it up.

I fully understand the natural instinct to guard your space. If I moved into a new place and found out it was haunted, I probably wouldn’t just shrug my shoulders and tell myself that these things just sort of happen sometimes.  I’d freak out some.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d have a ball.  But in a freaked out sort of way.  It’s totally justifiable to have a meltdown upon learning the news you’ve been duped into a haunted abode…at least for a little while.  Sure, you could take the righteous indignation attitude, as you would with any intruder, and stomp around with a baseball bat, yelling insults at Mr. or Mrs. Ghost to get them to show themselves.  Although seriously….WHY would you want them to show themselves!? I mean think about it!  That never ends well.  So just know that if and when this happens, chances are the ghost is going to be slightly upset at such disrespect and retaliation is to be expected.  In fact, what other reaction would you really expect to achieve?

I don’t have much face-to-face experience with an angry ghost but I can only assume whatever it has in mind to do, it’s going to be something I’m clearly and gloriously unprepared to handle. Which is what I want the characters in these movies to consider when they’re throwing their “show yourself” tantrums. It might be better just to let the ghost win right off the bat.  Let them have the house.  But if you do decide to stick around and share the place with Casper or say….a demon from Hell, just don’t take any tips from the Paranormal Activity’s resident genius Micah. The rule is simple: Don’t piss off the ghost. If you do, well, have fun in in the afterlife.

The Problem with Cats

I have a literal pet peeve that I just have to share, mainly because it confuses the hell out of me more than it annoys me. Actually, no, that’s not true. It annoys me a lot.

Obligatory disclaimer: I love my cats. They’re my furry children…okay…well not quite… but they ARE my fuzzy confidants, my purring comrades. I love, love, love them. That clear?

Now that that’s out of the way, I hate my cats.  Any cat lover will understand this paradox.  What I specifically hate is when I find them staring at nothing. I’ll be reading on my couch or thumbing through a magazine in bed and I peer over to see them sitting docilely facing what?  An empty corner, that’s what. Or they’re perched as stoically as a Buckingham Palace guardsman gazing intently….and I mean INTENTLY… at a blank patch of ceiling. The obvious thing to think is that maybe they’re looking at something really tiny. But I get up and check. Not once have I found the object of their rapture. I would expect a tiny bug stuck in a spider web or a piece of fluff dancing in the breeze. Nope. Just empty space.  And then there are those times when they’re happily playing with….nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  

So what could they be thinking about? What is drawing their undivided attention with such emphasis? And just who or what are they playing with!? It vexes me and then I get annoyed because I often get frustrated when I don’t understand something. Not to mention it’s just plain creepy.

What’s even worse (and something else I’m sure cat owners can attest to) is when I wake up in the morning — or worse yet in the middle of the night — to find their huge dilated eyes only inches from mine as their feline vision bores into me. I have no clue how long they have been there staring at me. And regardless of that, it bothers me to think about what could be going through their heads. Something tells me they’re not thinking, “Wow, I’m so glad Wendy takes care of me. She’s so, so good. She’s the best.” More than likely they’re hatching some fiendish plan to overthrow me as head of the household and becoming their own cat powered sovereign state. 

It’s said that many of our domesticated animals have a sixth sense; something that feels a presence that we humans can’t pick up on. Maybe when my cats are staring at “nothing,” they are actually being entertained by a ghost or some invisible demon or entity that I just can’t see. I’m not going to go down that path because it makes a cold chill shiver down my spine. All I can hope is that if they are seeing spirits maybe, just maybe, those invisible beings like me and will tell my cats not to stage a coup. But knowing my luck, they’d probably just team up to take me down.

Shaylee