Paranormal Investigator and A Few of My Beliefs

I attended a lecture on a particular paranormal subject, at a library, almost a month ago.  That tells you about how much time, I've had, lately, to actually blog about something that interests me.  Most of the time, I have to deal with things in my life I'd rather not have to deal with- but that's reality for ya.  I pepper my reality with brief times of relief on Fartbook... er... Facebook, mostly, because commenting or posting on Facebook takes less time than doing a blog post.  To each his or her own.  :)

The lecture I went to was about ghost hunting and the woman giving the lecture belonged to an organization that has been around for a number of years and they have done a lot of investigations.  She seemed to know what she was talking about.  A large group of ordinary people had showed for the lecture and Q & A.

The lecture got me thinking about a lot of things that I experienced in my past.

I believe in ghosts and things that fall under the paranormal heading for a number of reasons.  I've talked about those reasons on this blog in the past but to those who are relatively new to this blog that I've been doing since 2007, my reasons, in no particular order are:

1- I've lived in a house that was haunted.  The entire family, our friends and even people we didn't know that well, saw and heard many unexplained incidents such as: chairs moving by themselves, laughter coming from our attic when no one was up there, the lights and TV going off and on, whispers of your name next to your ear while attempting to sleep, blood running down the walls, something pulling sheets off of a bed while you are attempting to sleep, black, smoke-like formations rushing past doorways, dolls' heads moving completely around by themselves, running footsteps being heard, coming up from the basement stairs up to the door leading to the hallway (when no one was there) and so on.

Some of this shit, that went on, I think I've purposefully forgotten, to avoid needless trauma.

If you've read this far without thinking me insane, wanting to mock me and everyone else who had to go through the shit we went through or wanting to debate me or point out how one or more things can easily be scientifically explained- then congratulations are in order for you.  Kudos!  It means you likely have an open mind.  Otherwise, if you're here to debate me or do any of the other things I mentioned above, feel free to move on to the next blog about how someone's kid and their latest "hysterical" antic that everyone is dying to know about.  Or something equally mundane.  I'm not interested and will not respond, as you would probably like, to anything contrary that you have to say.  I've heard it before and wasn't impressed.  We, meaning the dozens of us who went through the hell of living there or visiting there, know what we went through and tried "scientifically" explaining away everything that happened.  Didn't work.  End of story.

I might add... and I will...

The only thing more irritating and frustrating to me than an overzealous disbeliever in anything they can't see or explain is an overzealous Christian trying to push their faith down your throat.  Giving someone the benefit of a doubt is not the same as being gullible.  Either person who displays this type of behavior is showing their arrogance and close mindedness.  It's also a sign of someone who NEEDS to feed their ego to tear down one's ideas or beliefs with whatever well written malarkey that they can come up with.  Just because it is well written or that person has the last word- it does not make them right.   

2- My wife has spoken to the spirit of her deceased grandfather one night, while I was in bed and he gave her details about me that he couldn't have known, because he died three decades before I was even born.  I've had several relatives see and talk to dead relatives, whether they were on their deathbeds in homes or hospitals or when they were just standing around, not doing anything in particular.  Feelings of peace would usually accompany them while these incidents would happen.

3- I've also had some flashes or images come into my mind, while awake, of things that have happened.  Most of those things (images) were of trivial matters.  When these images would come into my mind, I would feel like I should remember them.  I don't know why that feeling would come over me but it did.  A month or two later and the image of the incident in my mind actually became a reality.

The one "picture" that I got in my head was of something that I didn't even know about or what it was and had never seen a picture of it before- until I was older, in school.  It came to me when I was around four years old.  It was a picture of a nuclear bomb going off.  Bright mushroom cloud, everything being caught on fire, vaporized and so on.  The whole bit.  It was happening, I figured out later in life, in the same direction where a major city, about thirty miles away from where I live now, is located.  I'm 48 years old and it is an image in my mind as horrifying and clear as it was when I was four years old.

4- I used to read whole decks of cards.  Didn't matter which deck or where it came.  They weren't in any order. I didn't cheat by marking any sides or had cards that were bent.  I'd simply look at each face down card, say what it was, suit and number, turn it over and it would be what it said I knew it was going to be.  Then I'd re-shuffle the cards again, predict the cards, again, correctly and then, one day, I thought to myself, This is too weird and I stopped doing it, altogether.

5- There is another thing I've been involved in, paranormally speaking, but I'm not mentioning it because it would take too long to explain and I'm afraid I'd get a lot of backlash in comments that I'd rather not read because, well, I've heard it all before and sadly, most people are predictable.  :)  I'm not saying everyone is, but, if you've been around as long as I have, you already know the truth.  If you'd really and genuinely like to know what #5 is about, I'll tell you.

These days, I don't have any predictive imagery in my mind.  Nor do I attempt to predict cards or attempt transcendental meditation.  That last thing I just mentioned resulted in something that freaked me out a bit, not in a bad way, but I'm not going to go into it, either.

The paranormal investigator (one of many ghost hunters, so to speak,) brought all of her equipment, including dowsing rods, an EVP recorder, an EMF meter and a laptop computer showing orbs (spirits) she and others had videotaped during their investigations.  Later, she shared information about a tour through a place where people, in a nearby city, had reported experiencing spirits one way or another.  She didn't talk about the future tour much, in case you're wondering if she was there to make money off the local town folk.  She was there to demonstrate how the instruments worked, how her own personal experience as a child got her interested in the paranormal and answering any questions that people had about ghosts.

Many orbs ( or spirits)

She talked quite a bit about how her personal experience with spirits and how it told about and shown on TV, through reenactments.  The paranormal investigator was interviewed about the full apparition she saw of a little girl named Nora, sitting on the floor in a room, upstairs at her childhood home.

The woman also was there to investigate someone who had died at the library she was speaking at.  According to the dowsing rods and the EMF meter, something was definitely there and it was communicating what had happened when she died.  For one thing, she used to work in the same old building a long time ago and she was pregnant at the time.  Ever since my sister and her coworkers had been working at the library, they had heard talking, from out of nowhere and had seen things move (on their own?) while being employed at the library.  It wasn't a malicious spirit, obviously.  It just wanted to be acknowledged.

On her laptop computer, the investigator showed orbs, like I said and turned up the volume of strange, yet clear, disembodied voices.

There was a teenage girl, who worked at the library, who had an experience on a ghost hunting tour, a few months back, who was not associated with the investigator.  She told us about how she thought a spirit from the place she toured had come back home with her.  She said she could feel "him" touch her arms, at times, and how it felt cold or like being brushed by spider webs.  This spirit, she said, had also displayed non-malicious behavior toward her but the investigator advised her that she should explain to the spirit that he was dead and should move on to the other side.  Her family, who had also gone on the same tour, also heard voices "from out of nowhere" and felt things.

The other side, what happens after death, call it Heaven or what you will, is also something I happen to believe in for a great many number of personal reasons, NOT religious reasons.

The paranormal investigator seemed pretty genuine to me.  I had an open mind about it because of things I and others close to me have witnessed and experienced.  Btw, I'm quite open to any of your own experiences, concerning the paranormal in the comment section, or if you'd like, through email or Fartbook... er.. I mean Facebook.

Supposedly, I'm supposed to get a nice pair of dowsing rods from the link I already provided, as a gift, from my sister, for my birthday, October 3rd.  I'm not saying I completely believe in dowsing rods but they may be of some personal good to me.  I'm not saying anything beyond that.

Take care, everyone! 

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Final Chapter)

If you haven't read the first two installments of this enchanting tale, click here for Part One and here for Part Two.

The spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson stepped menacingly toward Toadie, Val and the ghost, Annie, interrupting their lovemaking.

Wide-eyed, Toadie stuttered until he could finally say, "Toadie may be frightened to the point of shitting himself silly right now... but Toadie can't help to wonder... Why do they call you "Bent Joe?"

Annie warned, "Don't rile up his tail feathers, Mr. Toadie!"

The cowboy ghost dropped his pants and pointed to his crooked ghostly penis.

"Bent Joe" growled, "This is why, you mush-headed, numb-nutted dimwit! You satisfied now?"

Toadie replied, "Toadie thinks you have a bad case of acute dicklopsidedness."

Snarling, the ghost got up into Toadie's face and said, "You sayin' I have a cute dick?"

The sound of a car pulling up, down below, cut through the dead silence of the night.

"Bent Joe" Paulson pulled up his pants, cocked his head with a curious expression on his face and said, "I sense one of my kinfolk is here."

What the cowboy ghost was sensing was the sudden arrival of his great-great grandson, Henry Paulson. Paulson had, coincidentally, turned into the old west town as a means of escape.

Henry Paulson had made a lot of people angry with his latest televised interview because of his statements concerning why he thought people of the Occupy Movement were so angry. He was completely off the mark with his remarks. An Occupy group had caught sight of Paulson, outside the studio after his interview and wanted to share their opinions with him.

Instead of being bothered further with any more questions or accusations, Paulson had waved them off before saying, "Go get a job instead of complaining. It's your fault that you're poor."

With that said, the group ran towards him, shaking their fists and shouting obscenities. The former CEO of Goldman Sachs got into his limousine, told his driver to start the car and leave the city, immediately.

Wanting to avoid the peasants and miscreants of the area, altogether, Paulson instructed his chauffeur to take him on a few quiet desert roads for a bit of peace and untroubled thinking. While the chauffer drove Paulson on a few mostly desolate roads, the wealthy man poured himself glass after glass of expensive cognac until finally, they arrived at a ghost town.

Looking out the window, the old man nervously searched the area around them. He thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes peering over the saloon doors of an old bordello. Within a few seconds, they disappeared.

Then the limo's engine began sputtering.

"What's wrong with the car?" asked Paulson.

The driver shrugged and said, "I don't know, sir. It was given a tune up not long ago."

That's when the limousine stopped running, completely. The driver and Paulson immediately pulled out their cell phones. Neither of them were working. Suddenly, all the lights and the electronics in the car went out. They were sitting in near darkness with only the moonlight shining dimly around them.

Paulson's chauffeur, Riley, said, "Sir, I'm going to have a look around and see if I can find a phone or something we can use."

Riley got out of the car. Not wanting to be left alone, Paulson opened the car door and joined his driver. "Hold on," said the old man, "Another pair of eyes may help."

After finding out the flashlights in the limousine didn't work, Riley and Paulson started walking. The crunch of their footfalls and their breathing were the only sounds that they heard. And then a voice came from the nearby saloon.

"What are you looking for?"

At first, Paulson thought he might be imagining the voice- until he saw that it was obvious that Riley had heard it, as well.

Riley, unafraid, walked up to the doors of the saloon asked, "Who's in here?"

Receiving no answers, Riley pushed open the swinging doors of the saloon. The chauffeur walked inside. Paulson stayed close behind him. They were at the bar when a fiery orb appeared from nowhere. The orb quickly transformed into a recognizable human form- at least, to Paulson, it was recognizable.

The ghost said, "The word is, is that you've been an ornery, inconsiderate sonabitch, my great-great grandson."

Paulson placed his hand on his head. He was feeling faint. Perspiration, with traces of blood, ran down his face and neck until it soaked into the collar of his once neatly pressed dress shirt.

After gathering the strength and courage to speak, Paulson said, "You're my great-great grandfather. How can this be?"

Before the ghost could reply to his kinfolk's inquiry, Toadie and Valerie came down the steps. Annie floated down and met them. All eyes were fixated on "Bent Joe" until Valerie and her seemingly dim-witted friend, Toadie, recognized the old man in the business suit.

Toadie laughed and felt a thunderous cloud of methane pop out of his anus. The uncomfortable silence had been shattered by the awkward fart and caused everyone to turn toward Toadie. Everyone, including "Bent Joe".

Toadie pointed at Paulson and stated, "Toadie agrees with "Bent Joe". You are a sonafabitch."

Paulson was taken aback by the slightly retarded man and his words.

Toadie continued, "Don't act confused or startled, you fucking turd! You, Ben Bernanke, Alan Greenspan and the rest of the major guilty players in the great debacle that is our current Great Recession, allowed the housing bubble to expand to the point of exploding in everyone's faces. And instead of bailing out homeowners, they bailed out greedy bankers, causing events to be triggered that very quickly caused our economy to go into a horrible downward spiral. Because of people like you, who had a major part in keeping up the deregulation of the financial industry, we are experiencing the residual effects of not only your greed but your inconsideration of the people in this country. Meanwhile, you stay wealthy, get wealthier, manipulate the media, the government and generally tell the vast majority of the public to go fuck themselves and make out like they are the ones who are the criminals. All you care about is money, power and manipulation. The majority of people in this country, who are the neglected... who are protesting, meanwhile, are arrested... or worse."

"Bent Joe" pushed at Paulson's chest, crying out, "You're nothin' but a piece of snobby, arrogant, thievin' shit!"

Henry Paulson stumbled back and stuck his foot into an old spittoon. Panicking, Paulson felt the spittoon latch onto his foot, pressing the leather of his shoe against flesh and bone. Unbeknownst to the living folks inside the saloon, the spittoon was possessed by the spirit of Toadie's great-great grandfather, Gregory McKelly.

The spittoon laughed when Paulson fell on his ass. A sharp pain followed, causing the old man to scream in agony. It felt like something had abruptly fractured or broke near his ass. Riley pulled the spittoon off of his employer's foot and tossed it to the side. A face appeared on the spittoon as it shook and rattled across the room. The spittoon emitted an eerie bale of laughter as it skittered and rolled back and forth across the old wooden floor.

Riley freaked out and ran out of the saloon, leaving the old man to fend for himself. Paulson crawled out the door like an injured cockroach. His chauffeur got into the car and tried starting the car. Fortunately, it started. Riley looked over at Henry Paulson, saluted him and promptly left the haunted ghost town, spinning his wheels and leaving his employer in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes.

"Wait for me!" commanded the old man, as he writhed in pain, finally making it out of the saloon.

Toadie, Val and Annie laughed at the old man, turned their backs and headed upstairs for a sprightly human/ghost orgy. As far as they were concerned, the show was over and there was nothing more to say. They opened the door to the room upstairs and very quickly got busy.

The spirit of Paulson's great-great grandfather remained for a few moments, staring at Paulson's quivering form and then shook his head before stating, "You only have yourself to blame, son."

And then he vanished, entirely.

The next day, Toadie and Valerie thanked Annie for the great time. When they left the saloon, the engaged couple stepped over Paulson, who was still moaning and continued to walk out of the old western town, hoping that someone would eventually come down the highway and offer them a ride. Luckily, they were found and taken back to a town where they could rent a car and continue their travels westward.

And this concludes our story, folks. Have a dandy weekend!

For more Tales of the Toadie, click on any or all of these fine links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 1)

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 2)

Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Part 2)

Click right here, folks, in order to read the first part of this classic type of ultra fine and sophisticated American Literature so you can make sense of the whole story. I wouldn't want you to be "lost in the woods", so to speak. Or would I? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Upon closer inspection, the slightly mentally challenged Toadie realized the people in the old photograph were his great-great grandparents, Gregory McKelly and Donna Mae McKelly. Toadie remembered seeing similar photos of his great-great grandparents in a family album when he was a kid. His sweet Auntie Kay had told him that "his great-great grandparents were outlaws of the Old West and were fond of drinkin', raising a lil' hell and robbin' banks- but that they were beloved by many because of their good-natured sense of humor and the fact that they gave a lot of their money away."

While looking intently at the photo, the characters in the photo mysteriously began to move. Instead of his late grandfather pointing his gun upward, he was dropping his arm downward, allowing the gun to point to the side. Then, surprisingly, the photo began to change in varying colors. But what was most unnerving, was that the frame around the photo changed, as well, with the indented pattern in the wood, unraveling, curling into twisted flowers, then returning back into it's original form.

Toadie jumped back, tripping over an old brass spittoon and screamed. The photograph immediately returned to it's original state, which was followed by laughter echoing from the rooms upstairs. These were the same rooms where prostitutes cheerfully entertained patrons of the saloons by humping them until their semen had been thoroughly depleted from their scrotal sac.

Toadie stuttered a bit, expelled a long, awkward fart and finally was able to blurt out, "Toadie needs Valerie to come here!"

When Valerie joined him, Toadie explained what he had seen and that the people in the photograph were his great-great grandparents.

Startled, Valerie held Toadie tight and said, "That photo is remarkably clear for how old it is. It's like it was taken just a year ago."

Toadie said, nervously, "Toadie's afraid. Will you comfort Toadie by giving him head, please?"

Suddenly, a blonde haired woman, garbed in a black dress, was sitting on an old piano across the saloon. She had appeared from a gathering mist and, almost immediately, began to speak.

"If she doesn't suck the venom from your snake, Sugar Buns, I would be willing to give it a try."

Frozen with fright, Toadie and Valerie stared at the ghost, feeling helpless.

The ghost said, "The name's Annie and pleasure is my business."

She smiled, seductively and drifted over to where the engaged couple were standing.

Annie warned, "If you know what's good for you, you'll head on upstairs before "Bent Joe" Paulson comes in here. He doesn't like strangers in HIS TOWN."

Valerie paused anxiously, before inquiring, "Who's Bent Joe?"

The ghost circled around the brunette and whispered, "He's the most evil bastard you NEVER wanna lay eyes on, sweetie. He'll tear you apart, whether you want it or not."

Annie turned to Toadie and placed her cold hand on the crotch of his pants. Even though he was scared, Toadie still sported wood and drooled a bit. His "snake" drooled a bit, too.

Annie remarked, "Besides, if you two follow me upstairs, I promise you won't be bored." She giggled at that and gave Val a little peck on the cheek.

Without warning, the saloon doors were thrown open. A glowing orb passed through the entrance. It seemed to be burning with red flames. Annie, Val and Toadie could feel the hostility emanating from it.

"Time to go," warned Annie.

Toadie and Val quickly followed the ghost upstairs into one of the rooms. When they were inside, the old wooden door slammed shut.

Toadie and Valerie stared at each other, shaking. Toadie said, "Toadie doesn't see the hot blonde anymore."

Valerie gave him a stern look. "So you think she's hot, huh?"

Toadie pointed to his dick and said, "The penis doesn't lie." And then he laughed, scratched his ass and plopped onto the bed like a big sack of creamy, maggot-infested potatoes.

A few quiet moments passed until Valerie, aroused by the sight of Toadie's meaty totem pole, joined Toadie on the other side of the bed. She looked out the window and said, "Do you think we'll be okay in here for awhile?"

Toadie saw how the moonlight reflected on Valerie's face and allowed his gaze to travel down to the outline of her soft, firm breasts beneath her shirt. He imagined sucking on her tits and blowing his wad on them. But not vice versa, of course. Toadie would think that to be uncouth.

"Toadie loves you," said Toadie, "Toadie won't let anything happen to you."

Valerie leaned over, kissed her fiancee gently on the lips and complimented him. "You're so romantic, Toadie"

Toadie said, "Can Toadie fuck you in the ass now?"

No longer being able to hold herself back from the suave gentleman, Valerie took off her clothes. Toadie hurriedly removed his clothes, as well. Moments afterwards, the engaged couple were happily fornicating.

And then a mist appeared next to them. Annie made herself visible. Without asking if she could join in, she began rubbing Valerie's wet, glistening love button. At first, the ghost's hand was cold but then it quickly warmed up. Valerie moaned, realizing the ghost was back in their presence and was, nevertheless, enjoying her touch. Annie then turned her attention to Toadie, pulling his walloping prick from Valerie's wide open beaver gobbler and sucking it with terrific fervor.

Toadie shouted, "Hurrah!"

Further pleasures were exhibited and felt throughout the night. Bodily fluids were exchanged. Annie the ghost rode Toadie like a crazed, horny baboon. At one point, Valerie lapped at Annie's ghostly nips. And so on.

Abruptly, a fiery orb passed through the door and entered the room. Val, Toadie and Annie hadn't noticed. The orb slowly transformed into the spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson. The cowboy was seething with rage as he shook his fists and screamed, "I'll teach you!"

Stay tuned for Part 3, the last chapter to this story, next time. Hope you have a great weekend!

A Unique Alternative-The Conclusion

Ethan looked at the spirit with mild bewilderment at what it had said. His hand rubbed Clara's smooth butt. He smiled. There wasn't much that could surprise him now in comparison to the event of what had just transpired. With this in mind, he wasn't too concerned about what she was about to tell him. Having sexual intercourse with a ghost, he thought, would likely be the most surprising thing that could possibly ever happen in his lifetime.

As it would be for most of us.

Clara looked deep into Ethan's eyes, in complete seriousness, and said, "Daria killed me."

Clara paused, momentarily, then said, "It happened almost a month ago yet to me it seems like yesterday."

Ethan gave the beautiful, slightly luminescent spirit on top of him a stern look and asked, "She killed you? Why?"

Clara continued, "A little over a month ago, Ken and I were working in the same office and we would ocassionally go out to a restaurant, eat lunch together and talk. We were just two co workers getting to know one another."

"You must be talking about something that happened before I became friends with Ken, "stated, Ethan, "I don't remember Ken mentioning you. And I'm sure he would have mentioned someone as hot as you."

Clara laughed for a moment and then said, "Thank you."

The spirit slowly raised up towards the ceiling from the top of Ethan's hairy chest and dissipated in the air. Ethan looked around and asked, "Where are you?"

Clara slowly materialized, nude as she was before, at his bedside to pick up where she left off. Illumination from the streetlight showed through his bedroom curtains. The light passed through Clara without leaving a shadow on the wall. Ethan was relieved when she returned.

Clara explained, "Daria had just begun dating your friend and my co worker at the time. She had seen Ken and I going to restaurants together on a couple occasions and she was becomingly increasingly jealous. She thought Ken was cheating on her with me. This was pure insecurity and paranoia on Daria's part because Ken and I were just co workers and only beginning to become friends."

Ethan pushed, "Go on. I'm listening."

"Ken told me about her increasing jealousy and I told him that maybe it would be for the best for everyone if I didn't have lunches with him anymore. After a few minutes of debate from him about this, he agreed with what I was saying. So we stopped. We only saw each other in the office. After a couple days passed, it seemed as if everything was alright. But Daria was still jealous, according to him, still thinking that he and I were together from time to time. He told me their arguments about our supposed affair were getting bad. And then one night, her fury over something she was only imagining, took over any reasoning she might have had in her little mind."

Ethan knew his friend Ken was faithful. Even obedient. Whatever Daria told him to do, he would do, no matter how ridiculous or insulting it seemed to him. She was his manipulator and he would agree to whatever she wanted.

Ethan shook his head, dreading what the spirit was likely going to say next.

"Daria came into this house- my house, invaded this bedroom, where we are now, clamped my mouth shut while I was asleep and slit my throat open with a knife."

Suddenly, blood began pouring out of an abruptly developing gash in Clara's neck and splattered upon the mattress. The mattress became soaked with gore. Ethan could hear drops of blood hit the wooden bedroom floor, as well. Closing his eyes, Ethan pleaded, "Please... Stop."

The blood disappeared. Clara remained.

"Oh, fuck," said Ethan, realizing his friend's girlfriend was a murderer. Dismayed at what this meant, Ethan shook his head and added, "Now what should I do?" Then he answered his own question. "I have to call the police."

Clara explained further, "The police have already questioned her and asked where she was that night. She told them she was in bed, asleep. They could neither confirm or not confirm she was in her apartment that night. Daria was also careful not to leave fingerprints, using latex gloves on her hands and small bags that covered her shoes."

"Why didn't Ken mention you were killed here or any of this before I moved in?" inquired Ethan, with a small measure of anger.

Clara touched his face and said, "He didn't want to frighten you in any way and he knew you were desperate in your attempt to find a place to live in this area."

And then Clara smiled.

Gradually, Clara ascended upwards and then slowly made her way down upon Ethan. Her head maneuvered towards his groin. Gently, the spirit took his penis into her mouth and she commenced sucking the head of his cock. Ethan's hands roamed through her wavy, dark red hair and her backside. What she was doing felt so good to him. Clara continued, easily engulfing his manhood inside her throat, sucking and licking upon it until he had a mind blowing orgasm.

"OOOOHHH," cried out Ethan. Spurts of semen shot through her head and rained down all over the sheets of his bed.

After they held each other for awhile, Ethan moved away from the spirit. He then flipped over on top of her, thrusting his prick inside Clara, relishing how very real she truly felt. Almost an hour of passion had passed before they climaxed, intensely, together.

Not long after the sun had risen, there was a sudden knock on the front door. Clara disappeared from his arms without notice. Ethan looked around the room, actually feeling alone this time. He sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled his jeans on. Ethan thought Ken and Daria might have seen something of his in their car while moving and were bringing it back to his place.

When he opened the door, sure enough, Ken and Daria were standing there, with a box full of electronic equipment.

Daria smirked and said, "We found some more of your stuff in the trunk and figured you might want this, maybe, before we see you later tonight." At that point she pulled a TV remote control out of the box and tossed it to Ethan. Ethan, tired from the hours of lovemaking and conversation with Clara, fumbled for the remote and dropped it on the doorstep. To add insult to injury, the plastic casing cracked and the batteries fell out. It looked broken.

"Did you make any coffee yet, dude?" asked Daria, "Because you look like shit."

Still trying to comprehend all of the recent events leading up to this moment, Ethan mumbled, "Just had a rough night." Then he added, "But it was an amazing night, as well." Ethan smiled.

Daria said, obviously bored, "That's good. So are you going to make us some coffee or what?" Ken was behind Daria, looking like he was embarrassed by how she was trying to order his friend around. Ethan looked away from him and answered, "Sure." Ethan realized he was going to have to have a talk with Ken about Daria and what crime she had committed there- after he called the police. For the moment, he didn't want to reveal what he knew or what he thought he knew to either Ken or Daria. And what exactly was he going to say to the police about any of this, he wondered.

When Daria and Ken walked into the living room, Daria glanced around, as if she were looking for something. She had a puzzled expression on her face. Slightly frustrated, she joined Ken on the sofa.

While Ethan was in the kitchen, plugging the coffee maker into the wall, he heard a familiar wail coming from the living room. He knew it was Clara, crying out. And then he heard a piercing scream. It felt like his heart was going to stop beating.

Ethan ran into the living room and saw Clara, standing behind Daria. Clara had her arm around Daria, tightly binding her. Daria screamed again, while attempting to escape from Clara's supernatural strength. Clara increased the pressure, causing Daria to shout, "Get off me, you dead fucking bitch!"

With her other arm, Clara reached from behind and produced a knife in her hand. Daria looked at the knife and declared, "I hid that fucking knife here where the cops wouldn't find it." Ken and Ethan saw the dried blood on the knife and remained still, amazed at the sight before them.

Quicker than Ethan could say a word, Clara pressed the knife blade to Daria's throat. Slowly, Clara pulled the knife across Daria's flesh, splitting her neck open. Massive gushes of blood bubbled forth from the widening wound. Daria tried to speak but her vocal cords were severed.

Before Daria closed her eyes, dying, Clara held the knife in front of Daria's fading gaze. The spirit said, "I found the knife." Clara released Daria, allowing her murderer to drop to the floor. Just as Daria's head smacked on the floor, Clara vanished.

When the shock wore off, Ken called the police department and when the cops arrived, the men told them that Daria had slit her own throat and killed herself. They also added that before she died, Daria admitted to having killed Clara in a fit of jealous rage- which Daria didn't admit, though it was true, but that was what they had agreed on telling the police. They told the cops that Daria felt she couldn't bear the burden of what she had done and had to pay for her crime.

Later, the police matched Daria's fingerprints to the knife she used to kill Clara. And neither Ken or Ethan had traces of blood or evidence of a struggle on their clothes and skin. This meant to them that Ken and Ethan couldn't be suspects in either deaths. With the evidence presented, the police closed the case of Clara's murder and considered Daria's death to be a result of suicide.

Two days passed before Clara materialized again in Ethan's bedroom. The spirit glowed faintly, floating from the opposite end of the bed to lay by Ethan. She smiled, then said, "I thought you would leave this place after what has transpired here."

Ethan shook his head and replied, "Not if you stay here with me."

"It doesn't bother you that I'm a ghost?"

Ethan answered, "No. At first, yes. But now I believe I'll choose the unique alternative of being with you instead of a living, breathing ordinary woman."

Clara grinned and asked, "And why is that?"

Ethan smiled and continued, "Because you are beautiful, honest and more alive than any other woman I've had a relationship with."

Clara kissed Ethan. For the remainder of the night, they continued their lovemaking. And for the remainder of Ethan's life on Earth and afterwards, they stayed together.

A Unique Alternative

Ethan had brought in the last box of his belongings. He was anxious to get his stuff put away so he could finally relax. It had been a long day. His buddy, Ken and his new girlfriend, Daria, were a great help getting him moved into the old rental house but even they had had enough. They were tired and wanted to go home. Ethan told them to go home and that he was just going to unpack some plates and coffee mugs before going to bed, himself.

Ethan walked back outside to tell them goodbye and to thank them for their assistance. He was standing on the sidewalk and was about to say something to both of them when he felt like someone was watching him from the living room window. He turned quickly to look. There was nothing there, of course.

Daria asked, playfully, "Well, guy, are you going to be okay in this big ol' house, all alone?"

It was an obvious joke but he wondered if Daria had thought he had a strange look on his face when he turned around.

Ethan laughed in a way that suggested he was more tired than amused. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Ethan replied, "That's nice of you ask but I think I'll be fine. Thanks."

Ken pulled out his cell phone, rocked it back and forth in his hand and reminded, "Well, man, you know our number if you get too burnt out from unpacking your shit tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll probably give you guys a call. Maybe we can go see a movie." offered Ethan.

As Ken and his new girlfriend, Daria, pulled out of the driveway, Ethan waved them goodbye. Even then, he felt as if he were being watched from the curtained window. A part of him dismissed it as fatigue. Another part was telling him that someone was in there.

He turned around for the walk back and said, "I'm being paranoid."

Ethan stared at the window while walking back toward the house. After he was inside, he cautiously searched every room. Nothing unusual. He could clearly smell Daria's perfume in the bathroom from when she used it during their hours of moving.

The thirty two year old muttered, "She must have taken a bath in that stuff. It doesn't smell too bad, though."

Ethan smiled and thought of Ken's girlfriend in his bathtub. Then he reasoned with himself, acknowledging that though Daria was pretty, he would never act out on his impulses regarding her. Besides, her attitude could sometimes annoy him to the point where he couldn't care less about her looks. And he sure as hell wasn't going to tell Ken about his thoughts on his new girlfriend.

After ending his room-to-room search, he was satisfied with the results enough to collapse on the bed, welcoming sleep. Even in his bedroom, he could smell the perfume. Minutes later, he was asleep.

Around one in the morning, Ethan woke up to the sounds of crying. It seemed like it was coming from down the hallway. He rolled over to listen closely. Nothing. He thought that it was strange but he had more pressing matters. And the pressing felt like it was on his bladder. He thought, Great. Gotta take a piss.

Sleepy and frustrated, he got up, flicked on the hallway light and made his way to the bathroom. He stood there, relieving himself, pushing one hand against the wall for balance. He remembered the last time he had to take a piss when he was this tired. He thought, I tripped over the toilet and almost did a header into the shower stall, nearly cracking my skull open. Damn, I'm good.

Again, with the crying. Now it sounded like it was coming from his bedroom. He knew what would happen next. He would stumble his accident-prone ass back to his bedroom, find nothing and likely keep awake to the sounds of crying throughout the rest of the night. But Ethan was beginning to get nervous. He was running the possibilities in his mind of what the source of the crying could be.

As he walked back, he felt something cold brush by him. The hallway light flickered a few moments. The crying suddenly became a long, drawn out wail and caused Ethan to stop moving. He held his breath. The crying stopped abruptly. Ethan was about to exhale when he heard...

"I'm sorry I scared you."

He heard the words coming from directly in front of him but they offered no comfort. His heart beat faster. Ethan felt dizzy.

Minutes passed before he calmed himself to the point where he wanted to move again. When Ethan finally made it to his bedroom, he saw what he hoped he would see, which was nothing unusual. Shaking his head, the dark haired man crept beneath the sheets of his bed and did nothing but stare out his bedroom doorway. He wasn't sure, if anything, what to do next. He thought about getting up to check the rooms again but finally decided that he would try for sleep one more time. If that wasn't going to happen, he thought about leaving the place or calling the cops or something else.

Ethan got up from the bed, on impulse and shut the bedroom door before climbing back into bed.

Suddenly, the sheets of his bed pulled away and he heard, "I'm not trying to scare you."

Something invisible, yet heavy enough to make an lengthy indention in the mattress, pressed along his side. It felt cold. Ethan went into shock. A glowing mist formed beside him. His eyes widened, pupils dilated. His mind was in full "fight or flight" mode but fear kept him in place, completely petrified. The mist formed into an orb. The orb began to take a human form. And before he dared to think another thought, the apparition of a woman with a pale face and long, dark red hair pulled together so as to be completely visible. She was radiant, beautiful and smiling.

Ethan watched the clarity of her image sharpen. The glow dampened to being almost nonexistent. And she was speaking again. He listened.

"Are you okay?" she said, "My name is Clara."

The spirit touched his face. She smiled. The light coming through the window from the street reflected off her dark red hair. Green eyes stared into his eyes. Slowly, her arm lowered to his lower torso. Her cold hand seemed to be searching for his-

Ethan gulped a little when she grasped his penis and gently stroked it. He thought, This can't be happening. The red haired, green eyed ghost confirmed what part of himself didn't want to believe.

"Yes, I am a spirit", she said, matter-of-factly, "And I'm not here to hurt you."

Ethan looked down and a somewhat transparent, yet clear hand, was pulling gently on his cock. He looked back up, his eyes meeting hers, before he stuttered, "So you're a... ghost... and your name is... Clara?"

"And I'm lonely," Clara finished.

Ethan's penis stiffened and with each stroke, her hand seemed to warm up. She closed in on his face and softly kissed him. Her lips felt every bit as real as her hand. Ethan didn't pull away. Instead, he kissed her right back.

Clara pulled her wavy long hair back off her smooth, freckled shoulders and got up until she was kneeling on the bed. From there, she commenced taking off her vaguely luminescent gown from her body, revealing well rounded breasts that swayed a little from their size. The gown seemed to become a murky image for a moment and then entirely disappeared. Clara placed one of her pale, tender thighs over the top of him until she was completely straddling him. Ethan grabbed her ass and slipped his penis inside her vagina. At first, it was cold, but with each thrust he made inside her, he felt her warmth strengthen and the smell of her perfume became a little more powerful.

Ethan soon came hard. Clara's vaginal muscles tightened around his throbbing, pumping cock. His orgasm was strong and made him freeze in place again. Only this time, it was in a good way. The ghost threw her head back and she let out a groan which eventually became a wail. But this wail was one of extreme pleasure, instead of the previous one that conveyed grief and hopelessness. Clara slowly looked down at Ethan and smiled, all pain diminished.

After having sex, Clara collapsed on top of him. She raised her head to face Ethan and said, "There's something I have to tell you about Daria."

The continuation of this story will conclude in the next post. Until then, Happy Halloween and Happy Waiting!

Living In A Haunted House

My family and I lived in a house that was haunted a lot of the time and then, a few times, there would be minutes or hours of terror. My sister and I experienced it the most as kids. But still we had these freaky experiences all the way up until the time of adulthood. Our friends would, more than half the time they stayed overnight, would have something mysterious happen to them, too.

We didn't doubt their stories one bit.


Here's the rundown or list of bizarre things that happened between the time I was ten through... well, until a couple months ago. My sister experienced some different things that are mixed with these and she would experience some of the same things. So finally, here's the list:



* Loud shouting, at close proximity, in my nearly deaf ear. It would always shout my name "Kelly!" at least once a week. This was a nighttime routine. Of course I thought, it was someone else in the house. Mom, dad or sister. Checked it out. They all said it wasn't any one of them.



* Laughing and talking in the attic. No matter what time of day. It was checked. Nothing there was found. Sounded like they were having a drunken frat party or something to me. It was really a fun occasion (sarcasm) when you had to go underneath the door to the attic to take a shower and/or a dump in the main bathroom. Maybe they were giggling at my penis? Who knows?



* The TV going off and On. The whole family experienced this one pretty often. Always in the middle of the night when everyone was in bed. Any one of us would hear the Television turning on. The sound would be blaring from the TV. Normal TV shows, reruns, commercials and so on. Kind of hard to mistaken it for anything else. Someone would invariably wake up, hear this racket and go in the living room to see who up watching TV that late at night. No one would be there. The TV was sometimes ON. Other times -not.



* Mom would experience something black quickly passing her bedroom door. She told me about this happening on several occasions. It was too blurry to recognize it, she told me.






* Chairs going across the floor upstairs when anyone of us were in the basement. You could hear them scrape across the dining room floor. All of us, experienced that commonly, as well. We got used to that, after awhile. Not too exciting.



* Dolls having their heads turned backwards would be found in the morning. We knew each didn't do twist the doll heads. Semi-common, I think. I'm not the one to ask about that one.



* There were a lot of creaks and house settling events that could be explained away. Some couldn't. Anything to quell the fears was usually told by Dad.



* There were sounds my sister and I hear that made us almost crap ourselves in fear. For me, it was the LOUD running up the stairs and banging on the doors as I heard footsteps coming closer to my bed. This was in the middle of the night. I pounded my fists off on mom and dad's bedroom wall. In the morning, they said they heard nothing. They said they must have been asleep. I was a 16 year old guy whose hobbies included listening to Heavy Metal and lifting weights. They couldn't hear the pounding?





* There was also loud pounding from the other side of the basement door. This happened at least a couple times a year. There was nothing alive being kept down there.



Oh well. All in the past.





My sister has the worst experience -that I promised I would never tell mom or dad. So, I'm sorry to say -I'm not going to tell it here. It does involve something red, though. From that little info, you can likely guess what I mean from that. If not -sorry.



In our youth, I believe my sister and I, in the middle years of living there, perhaps encouraged the visitations or other paranormal activity going on by playing with the Ouija board. Those are very bad things to play with. Check the link to find good info on them.



We would ask it questions. Such as: What exact time, to the minute and second is Dad coming home. It would be correct 80 percent of the time, to the second. And you never knew when he would be coming home because of the job he had. Strange. Our cousin, a few times a month, would blindfold us to see if we were peaking. I wasn't. Pretty damn sure my sister wasn't either. We figured he (my cousin) was an unbiased spectator and he would tell us what answers it would give. He wrote them down.



Turns out, it would be incredibly accurate. Well, most of the time. We asked it when we would die. It was wrong about my cousin. Still alive, fortunately. We asked what was the name of the ghost or ghost that were living there. It kept repeating, "Gus" with that needle guide triangle thing. It also mentioned or spelled out that it was a "lower" criminal. Spirit. Whatever that means, for certain, I don't know. It kinda makes me think Gus was a burglar or something. A mischief maker, of sorts.



A couple years ago, my sister and I were sitting in the living room while we were having a loud family party for one reason or another. May Christmas. Not sure. Anyway, we both heard laughter from the hallway, at a time when everyone suddenly became quiet just a few seconds before this sound. We both looked at each other and realized we both heard the same noise. We both got up and looked to see if anyone was in the hallway, bathrooms and bedrooms and we came to the mutual conclusion that everyone was present in the living room. So we asked everyone if they heard the noise, and of course, everyone denied hearing it.



Personally, I think my sister and I are more sensitive to spirits and other paranormal things out there. My sister still has it, whatever it is. I do, every now and then, but not so much. When it does happen, a picture will pop into my mind, not by reality, of something trivial that actually does happen in a year or more.



And then I'll remember I had this image in my mind before. A couple times, it is something important.



One time, in particular, I envisioned a a bright nuclear mushroom cloud, suddenly, in my mind. It was in the same location and direction of a neighboring large city we live close to. I didn't know that, at the time, when I was just a kid. I do now. Still have the image in my head. The mushroom was on a outdoor theater movie screen. It was as if a movie was playing. Then the movie screen dissolved away and all that was left was the mushroom cloud. A flash! And that incinerated everything.





At the time, I described what I saw to my parents. Dad told me what I was describing (A nuclear bomb going off) and I said to myself, "Wow". Then I felt sad for a few moments but then the feeling went away.



Now, getting back to the ghost experiences:



Our parents always denied experiencing these ghostly happenings for themselves, I believe, so that we wouldn't cause a panic. Or be frightened. It was already all they could handle with keeping us fed, clothed, schooled and so on, many times. So... no blame on them.





My sister can share her own experiences, that I might not know about, if she's willing.





Fun fact: The house has parts of it built from other parts of churches, for whatever reason. I've never looked into it, really. It may mean nothing at all.





We still don't like going into certain rooms of the house. If we do, it's with each other or someone else. We accept the whole phenomena as acknowledged fact between us.





Before my mom passed about five years ago, I remember going to this one place in town that holds a public event for paranormal/holistic type things. It was my first time there. A small bunch of guys were sitting at this table. They were an investigative team. I told them a few things that happened at the house. Of course, this paranormal research team wanted to come and investigate the house but my parents lived there at the time and I didn't want them to be put on public display, if that were to happen. I told them, "No thanks" and my reason for saying that. They accepted that answer after a few minutes of debate. I don't take chances with bad possibilities that have anything to do with our society like that.





I'm sure I left out a butt load of details but I think I've said enough.





That's the end of this post. Nighty night. Sweet dreams and all that rot. LOL.

Favorite Horror Movies

Since it is Halloween Time, I thought I'd share my list of favorite horror movies. Let me know what ya think of any of these and if you know of any good ones, that aren't listed here, let me know.

These are my favorite. Not in any particular order.

The Exorcist (when I saw this as a kid, I kept thinking, for weeks, the devil was hiding under the bed)
Alien (This one nearly gave me a stroke when the toothy snake thingy popped out of his chest)
Psycho
Jaws
The Thing (You never knew who was the monster)
The Abominable Dr. Phibes (One of the funniest horror movies of all time)
HellRaiser (Made me shit and have a stroke, simultaneously)

HellRaiser 2 (The doctor in the movie has a wicked sense of humor. Especially when he gets the big drill poked in through the top of his skull.)
The Grudge (Produced a wee bit o' pee in my pants)
The Ring
The Descent (I like how the demon thingies ate the people)
Final Destination
Friday The 13th
An American Werewolf in London (Ahead of it's time in terms of special effects. It was also very humorous)
The Shining (Gotta love that crazy Jack Nicholson)
Anaconda (I love it when Jon Voight gets swallowed by the big snake and then gets spat out. If you don't know what I mean, see the movie)
Queen Of The Damned (based on two of Anne Rice's "Vampire Chronicles" books)
Young Frankenstein (Funny horror movie with emphasis on "funny")

My favorite weird/horror movies. You would swear they were on acid or, at the very least, drinking heavily while these flicks were being created. When you're watching one of these films, you feel as though you're trippin' out.

Nosferatu
House on Haunted Hill
Event Horizon
In The Mouth Of Madness
Silent Hill
Re-Animator
The Serpent and The Rainbow

My favorite horror/superhero type movies:

Ghost Rider
Spawn
Hellboy
Hellboy 2
Underworld

Many of you will not agree with me on this, but I award these two movies as being the worst I've ever seen.

The Blair Witch Project (It sucked, quite horribly. Very boring. It was obviously produced and directed by amateurs. I get the idea of the movie (College kids lost in the woods, film of their "spooky adventure" gets found but the kids aren't found and so on) but the shaky camera bit was too much. I got sick and sleepy watching this turd of a movie.
Saw (I thought this was the most tedious torture flick I have ever seen)

So there ya have it. If you have any ideas or comments about my lists, scare them up and offer them up to me for sacrifice. Heh heh heh.