Category Archives: Haunted

I think I need to get one of those helmets with a canary in it.

Random crap Saturday? Sure thing, buckaroos, saddle up. 

Winning Aunting with ADD Trains 

So it’s almost The Nephew’s third birthday. His mom’s having a party for him in the rec park near his house, happily on a Sunday so that means I can attend. Yippee! I like seeing The Nephew. He’s very excited about his birthday. He tells anyone who asks “I’m turning THREE YEARS OLD!” I think he’s also reached the age where he realizes that with birthdays, come presents. I think that’s a very auspicious age, when you can connect the two. 

I am going to show you a picture of The Nephew. I know, this is probably pretty unprecedented. If any pervs show up searching like they did on my friend Mer’s blog once, I’ll come to your house and make you eat your own testicles as an hors d’oeuvre, I swear on all that’s holy.

This is a picture of The Nephew fishing with his dad recently. It is possibly one of my favorite things in existence, because LOOK AT THAT SKEPTICAL FACE. He is NOT SURE OF SOMETHING. I love this child. To pieces.

His party is construction-themed, because right now The Nephew is into construction vehicles like dump trucks. He should come to Albany! All we HAVE is construction right now, Nephew! Come on down! I think you’d be a little less enamored with it if you were stuck behind one of these big trucks and it was driving super-slow and you JUST WANTED TO GO HOME AND RELAX IN FRONT OF THE FAN DAMMIT, but maybe that’s just me. 

My mom checked with The Nephew’s mom to see what gifts he wants for this very important birthday, and apparently, the answer is Chuggington. Which sounds like a euphemism to me, honestly. “Hey, honey, what time are you getting home tonight? Because I think it’s time for us to try out the Chuggington, right? Wink wink nudge nudge!” 

What is Chuggington, you ask? Some train shit, I don’t know. He likes trains. He used to like Thomas the Tank Engine, but there’s a scary train on it so he stopped watching that one. Listen, I just checked the website to show you which train scares my beloved little buddy and there are a LOT of scary-faced trains. Why is this a children’s show? 

I don’t trust the smile on this one, he looks like a child molester.

The hell? This might give me nightmares and I’m a grown up old person. WHY SO MAD, DOUGLAS?

Hector looks like he just walked in on his mom doing it with the pool guy on a pile of his Christmas presents. HIS LIFE AS HE KNOWS IT IS SHATTERED.

I asked my mom which one scared The Nephew and she said this one. He is scared of it because of “The Claw.” GOOD GRIEF. This show is NOT FOR CHILDREN. When I told her that, she said, “Eh, it’s British, what can you do.”

Anyway, Chuggington. I’d never heard of this so I did some research. Here is what the internet tells me about Chuggington: 

Now, come on. “Let’s ride the rails” has to be a euphemism, right? RIGHT?

It is British
It is about talking trains
One of the talking trains seems to have ADD
One of the talking trains is colorblind
Two of the talking trains are mischievous
There is a “movie star chugger” who flies (…I don’t know either)
One of the trains is a douchebag and tricks the other trains
One of the trains is named Hodge and “it takes a lot to get Hodge excited” (I think I dated Hodge in college)
There is a zoo with animals in it (I’m down the zoo situation)
The show seems to exist to teach us all about FRIENDSHIP 

OK, FINE, The Nephew, I’ll get you some Chuggington birthday presents. I’ll research this shit at Toys R Us.

Good GRACIOUS there are a lot of Chuggington toys at Toys R Us. 102! I had no idea. Toys R Us! Never one to not jump on a trend when it’s hot! JUMP ON IT LIKE IT’S HOT TOYS R US! 

“Bridge and Tunnel Starter Set.” EUPHEMISM!!!!

The problem is, if I get him Chuggington toys, everyone ELSE is ALSO getting him Chuggington toys and there’s a chance he’ll get repeat toys and I hate that. I like to stand out in the gift-giving department like the shining star that I am. I really, REALLY like to win aunting. I only have one other person to compete with, but I like to WIN, baby. 

Last year I got him a scooter, which was a total win and he did all the scooting. What should I get him this year that is better than all the other gifts, but costs like $50 or so? People that have three-year-olds or know some three-year-olds, help me out here. Remember: this is not about anything but WINNING AUNTING. Oh, what’s that? Also making The Nephew happy? Oh, yeah, that too. THAT TOO. (No, but seriously, seeing his little face light up when I’ve gotten him a good present makes my Grinch heart break the measuring device every damn time. I’m an easy mark when it comes to The Nephew. This is going to be a problem when he’s older and the gifts he wants are like computers and things.) 

I think I’m dying of black lung 

So we’re in rehearsal for our Director’s Showcase which opens Thursday (well, and closes Thursday, it’s a one-night thingamabobber) and since our building is owned by the City and our ceiling is falling in, they decided to come and fix it right now. So we’ve been coming into rehearsal and the theater is in various stages of disrepair. You’d think it would get better, but it just keeps getting worse. One day we showed up and we couldn’t get down the aisles without squeezing through ladders (BAD LUCK BAD LUCK!) then we showed up a couple days later and there are no seats to sit in so we have to sit on the stage to watch the actors, because the seats are covered in plywood. (I don’t have to sit on the stage. I get my own ROOM to sit in. I’m in the light booth. I’m running the lights and sound for this one. I’m FANCY.) 

I had to move old disgusting ductwork in the lobby in order to close the theater door (you need the doors closed when you’re doing lights, otherwise you get spill from the lobby and you don’t know how your lights will look in a dark theater – there’s some theater inside info for you! Listen, before we’re done here, you’re going to be able to run your own theater, I swear) and my hands were so covered with nastiness when I was done that would NOT come off no matter WHAT I did that I’m pretty sure I’m dying of asbestos poisoning right now. Also, there are electrical cords everywhere, and I don’t know if any of them are live, so it’s like a game of chicken to walk anywhere. Will I live? Will I die? WHAT WILL HAPPEN? 

I know what will happen. I’ll get mesothelioma and have to call one of those TV lawyers to sue my own theater, is what will happen. Cough. Cough cough. 

Oh, what, you think I didn’t take photos? THINK AGAIN BUSTER.

This is the ductwork I had to move with my own hands. That left black shit all over my hands and pants. BLACK LUNGGGGG!

This is the inside of the theater right now. In front of you: the wood on the seats. Under that wood: the seats. To your far left, almost inaccessible: the stage. Directly in front of you, to the top: a ladder, precariously balanced. Directly in front of you near the bottom – a…snow shovel? I don’t know.

This looks like a haunted house but it’s the theater. Oh, hey, there’s my light booth near the top right, hi, my light booth! This is more seats, covered in plastic. And an abandoned bucket, all lonely-like. Some hard hats. And some wood. Heh. Wood. Also, to your left? ORBS. The theater’s totally haunted, yo. Call the Ghost Douche.

This is the ceiling right now. The ceiling that I’m sure is covered in asbestos. NO, I don’t know that for sure, but since when do I not exaggerate? Also, dangerous electrical cords, you know, like you want hanging out of a ceiling.

Also, Thursday, the workmen dropped a deuce in the toilet and didn’t flush, and left us a filthy tanktop on the table we serve refreshments from. You know. Like the classy people they are. THANKS WORKMEN.

(Listen, the show looks great, though. I like working on the director’s showcase because it’s a new director, and it’s fun to see what they can do and how they bring it all together. Well, I guess it’s fun if you like the director and they do a good job. In this case, she’s doing a great job, the show looks excellent, she’s got a wonderful point of view and I think the audience is really going to enjoy it. Also, she hasn’t even complained about the mess in the theater, which, hey, kudos. Don’t worry. I’ll complain enough for the both of us. That shit is CRAZY messy and gross.) 

Righto, guv’nuh. 

So tomorrow, I am going on an ADVENTURE. I know, right? I’m actually leaving my house and purposely going on an adventure. Are we all the most excited? Sure we are. 

Cute, right? So cute.

A new tea house/restaurant opened up very close to where I work, and when they were in the process of opening it, I saw the sign and mentioned to Ken, hey, there’s a tea place opening near me, when it opens, I should check that out. Then it opened, and I kind of forgot about it. SHUT UP, I have a lot going on. But then I remembered when I saw a review of it on one of our local blogs, so I checked out the tea selection and sent the link to Ken because he has to tell me if I’m allowed to go to places like this (I don’t know if tea is any good or not, what do I look like, fancy? No), and he said not ONLY am I allowed, I NEEDED to go. So, Sunday, I’m going to visit the tea place, and then I’m writing you all up the tale of my tea adventures on Ken’s tea blog. So you have to go THERE to read it. Yeah, it’s all a nefarious plot to get you to read Ken’s blog(s) as much as I think you all should, I’m not even denying it. Plus, Ken has promised to be my on-call tea expert should I run into any tea-related emergencies while I’m there. I’m sure I will. I can’t imagine I won’t. I’m also trying tea WITH CAFFEINE IN IT. I know, this could totally be the end of me. And by “the end” I mean it could cause a migraine to happen. But it probably won’t. It’s been a long time since the doctor told me that maybe caffeine was my migraine trigger. Who knows what will happen? It’s not going to hurt to try. And I really really REALLY want to see what Oolong tastes like. Ken makes it sound delicious. And since they don’t offer it as decaf, well, you can see my conundrum. 

Also, there’s totally a tea-related gift shop, and someone I know who was mentioned a billion times in the preceding paragraph has a prize package coming to him and tea relates to his interests, so that’ll be fun to investigate, now won’t it? Sure it will. What? What’s that? NO I haven’t finished shopping for the Bloggiversary Gift Package yet. Shush, you, I only got paid Thursday and we’re teching a show, I’m a little busy. 

So be ready for tea adventures! Oh, also there’s food. There’s totally food. I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty excited about the food, too. It looks delicious. 

OK, there’s three things. THREE RANDOM THINGS! Plus lots of pictures. I’m exhausted and I think I’m dying of maybe TB like Doc Holliday so now I should go around saying lines from Tombstone like “you’re a daisy if you do” and “I got two guns, one for each of ya.” HAPPY SATURDAY! Enjoy your day, it’s supposed to be lovely!

Nonsense. I have not yet begun to defile myself.



They made Hulk angry, and they didn’t like Hulk when he was angry.

Happy November! The gateway to winter, is what this is. ARE YOU READY FOR SOME WINTER? I yelled that like they do on the football programs. Don’t even tell me that the name of my blog is misleading. I HAVE SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE.

For fun, guess how many trick-or-treaters I got last night? No, guess. GUESS. If you guessed anything but ZERO you are WRONG. None! No trick-or-treaters. I didn’t even see any walking around outside. Did I get the day wrong or something? So now, guess who has three whole bags of mini-candy at her disposal? If you want some mini-candy, I’m your woman. I’m kidding, of course. You totally can’t have my candy. HANDS OFF I SAID.

I need to think of a name for these increasingly-more-common posts where I just blather on about a number of topics because listen, do you even KNOW how much awesome is in my brain? You can’t even imagine. MY BRAIN IS A PINATA OF AWESOME. …and now I think we have the name for these posts.

CARA HAS STOLEN MY ABILITY TO SLEEP

So yesterday, I wrote about how ten years ago I woke up in the middle of the night and there was a shadowy man with sparkly eyes standing over my bed and I was frozen. BOO! Ha. You weren’t expecting that because Halloween is OVER, right? GOTCHA SUCKERS. Anyway, so after she read it, Cara, my honey badger of a friend, said “You were visited by a shadow person.” So of course, as you do, I thought, hmm, what is a shadow person?

THANK YOU SO MUCH CARA NOW I’M NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN.

Shadow people are a THING. A THING THAT PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT. And I read THREE SEPARATE WEBSITES that VERIFIED THIS. But there were more. MORE! Than THREE!

Shadow people are sometimes seen out of the corner of your eye, when you’re just going about your day all la la la, and sometimes standing over you when you are sleeping. Oh, wait, you totally want a picture HERE IS A HORRIFYING ARTIST’S RENDITION.

What's with the steam rising from the Shadow People? Are they hot? THEY'RE ALSO HOT? This is INSANITY.

And HERE are some things I learned from a TOTALLY LEGIT WEBSITE THAT WAS TRYING TO SELL ME GHOST HUNTING EQUIPMENT. I’m totally picking up a Melmeter. They’re named after the creator, you know. His name is Mel.

“…the movement of shadow people is said to be quick and jerky, sometimes with stops, starts, and changes of direction, not at all like the smooth floating motion often associated with ghost sighting. “

“…some people report being able to discern that the shadow people are wearing a fedora style hat like a 1930’s-era gangster or a cloak.”

“…there are very few reports of positive interactions with shadow people.”

“Unlike the friendly ghost sightings that are fairly common, encounters with shadow folk are almost always frightening or shocking.   In fact, even the experts that view shadow men as a subset of ghosts, usually concede that shadow men are a malignant beings.”

“One of the many ideas is that shadow people represent a Thought-form, ghost or demon that was created by extraordinary pain, suffering, and trauma in a dying persons life.  Others suggest that shadow folk have been purposefully summoned from another realm through black magic or other occult practices.”

THESE ARE JUST UTTERLY NIGHTMARE-INDUCING FACTOIDS.

The worst is the FEDORA. Why is the shadow person dressed like a gangsta? Is he coming to make me an offer I can’t refuse, seeeee? Am I going to sleep with the fishes? I AM TOTALLY SO MUCH MORE SCARED NOW.

Mandy at Borkadventures had a similar situation happen to her, only hers was a girl, and Mandy said she didn’t seem malevolent. I’m going to assume Mandy’s Shadow Person was not wearing a fedora. MANDY. Was your girl wearing a FEDORA? I think this is something we should figure out. Probably it’s important since I’m going to become a ghost hunter now that I found that orb and I’m getting a Melmeter and all.

Also, it’s sad there are no positive interactions with shadow people. Now that I think about it, I blame the fedoras. It’s hard to be jolly when you’re wearing a fedora. Because fedoras make you want to be all serious, like you’re a grandpa. Or one of the Mad Men. Someone really needs to talk to the shadow people and tell them, listen! Cheer up! And maybe tell them to wear something more cheerful. I suggest a cap like those kids in Newsies wore. They were dancing ALL OVER. And I didn’t see it but wasn’t it set in the Depression, or something? If Newsies caps can make you dance even though businessmen are jumping out of skyscrapers, Shadow Men, WEAR ONE.

I’M SAD NO ONE COLLECTED THOSE LITTLE SPOONS WITH STATE CAPITALS ON THE HANDLES

So this article was in the paper this weekend and I cut it out because it just tickled me so much I wanted to read it AGAIN. I think this is a totally interesting window into my psyche you should note, by the way. Me reading the paper every Sunday: I read the inserts and such first. I throw the sports section to the wolverines. (I don’t KNOW what wolverines. THE wolverines. It’s a SAYING. It’s NOT a saying? Well, I just SAID it, doesn’t that MAKE it a saying? Good grief.) I work from the inside out and finally read the news part, which is usually pretty boring but it’s like taking your medication: you have to, really, don’t you? And then sometimes you find things like this and it makes it WORTH YOUR TIME.

FINE, I’ll give a synopsis in case you don’t want to click. Do we need to have a talk about your energy levels again, Clyde?

It is an article about some international autocrats and the memorabilia they collected when their houses were raided and/or just that we know about because we haven’t killed them yet. That was kind of harsh. Sorry. Probably we’re not planning on killing ALL the international badguy leaders, right? I don’t know anything about politics.

The things that stood out, quoted from the article:

“In one of Saddam’s mansions, U.S. forces uncovered what’s been described as a ‘1960s-style love nest, a mirrored bedroom, lamps shaped like women, and fantasy-art paintings featuring scantily-clad, bodacious women and buff warriors.’

The Guardian’s art critic…said the “artwork” was “dredged from some red-lit back alley of the brain.”

“A group of Western journalists in 1952 received a tour of the Cairo residence of King Farouk I, Egypt’s last king…Time’s correspondent reported ‘… a bedroom filled with a weird mixture of pornography, childishness and sentimentality — mild glamour shots like those advertising Chicago burlesque bars; Kodachrome nudes complete with pocket viewers; trick photographs that could be squeezed to make a fan dancer bump and grind.'”

And…my absolute WTFFFFF favorite…

“(Moammar) Gadhafi also had a well-documented obsession with U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, who he called ‘my darling black African woman.’ Rebel forces found an album of photos of Rice in his residence in Tripoli, a discovery the U.S. State Department called ‘deeply bizarre and deeply creepy.'”

Um. I know. I KNOW. You guys, I totally know. These are baddies. I get it. But come ON. Saddam Hussein liked things like this:

(I know that’s probably not what he liked but this makes me laugh. What’s going on here? I don’t know. VOODOO FANGS! Someone’s RIDING A ZEBRA! Also I think maybe the woman’s saving the man, which, +1!)

Lamps shaped like women and “bodacious” fantasy-art paintings. TOTALLY FUN SADDAM.

(The Guardian’s art critic was SO UP IN ARMS, right? OH MY STARS AND GARTERS!!!!)

I also like King Farouk’s wacky photos that you can squeeze to make a dancer bump and grind. Pretty sneaky, sis. I like to think of this old-timey king all squeezin’ his photos and makin’ ’em do nudie dances and laughing and laughing and FINE probably also getting all hot, because he’s totally a weirdo perv.

BTW, this is King Farouk I. Um, he’s totally the kind of person who’s squeezin’ the Charmin, right? WHOA. Stylin’ mustache, chap. And a FEZ! You don’t often see a fez pulled off this serial-killery. This guy totally has a van with no windows he trolls public parks with. YOU GO KING FAROUK I.

And then, there’s Moammar, who TOTALLY HAD A TEEN-BEAT-ESQUE STALKER BINDER DEDICATED TO CONDOLEEZA RICE. And a little NICKNAME for her. I can’t EVEN. What is happening. And I just have to wonder, what exactly went through Condoleeza’s head when she found out about this? Are you outwardly disgusted but inwardly flattered? Are you all-the-way-through disgusted? Do you laugh? Do you cry? WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN THIS PERSON WANTS TO LICK YOU LIKE A LOLLIPOP.

Doesn't he totally kind of look like a disgruntled bullfighter here? "Damn you, El Toro. You have bested me again. Touche, El Toro. Touche."

I TOTALLY WORK WITH THIS PERSON

I don’t know if anyone remembers this:

M. PIEDLOURDE!

(Oh, I can hear you NOW, you HEATHENS. M. WHAT? M. WHO? That’s Mr. Heavyfoot, for those of you who are not TOTALLY BILINGUAL IN FRENCH like I am. OK, FINE, I’m like 1/8 bilingual. I can say, very clearly in French, “Please speak more slowly. I only speak a little French.” THIS IS HELPFUL WHEN TALKING TO FRENCH PEOPLE. Because listen, they totally talk the FASTEST. Yeah, yeah, scoff it up, I can ALSO say “grapefruit,” “stop,” “why,” “fire,” and “library” – and string them all together in an awesomely perplexing sentence, “Stop! Why is a grapefruit on fire in the library?” – and when I was in Paris, I only got laughed at about 7/8 of the time I tried to speak French to the locals, which is where I got the 1/8 bilingual statistic from. I AM SO PROUD OF THIS ACCOMPLISHMENT. How, you ask, did I become this awesome? The answer is 6 years of French in high school and 2 in college. BAM I’M LIKE THE FRENCH MASTER BABY. It is totally the language of LOVE. And there, you see, is why I am SO SUCCESSFUL ROMANTICALLY.)

I work with Mlle. Piedlourde. SHE HAS THE LOUDEST FEET EVER ZOMG. And she walks past me 80 KABILLION times a DAY. Back and FORTH and back and FORTH and CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP LOUD LOUD SHOES I WANT TO HIT YOU WITH A CAST IRON FRYING PAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN

Sorry. Sorry. So, to entertain myself, and so I don’t brain her with a frying pan (I mean, I don’t even HAVE a frying pan at work, WHO HAS A FRYING PAN AT WORK HA HA HA) I pretend I’m listening to that jazzy little M. Piedlourde music as she walks by. Doo doo doo doodle oo-doo…

HULK MAD! HULK SMASH!

OK, disclaimer going in, here. I KNOW DEAD PEOPLE ARE UNFUNNY. I’m sorry, dead person. I am totally sorry you are dead. I am not laughing about the fact that you died. I am laughing at the events that led up to your death. I wish you had NOT died, if only because it would be interesting to find out WHAT THE HOLY HELL.

So yesterday I started seeing news stories titled “Man Dies in Struggle with Police at Latham Gym.” And hey, I used to live in Latham. It’s really close. So I’m totally morbid and wanted to know more! I like crazies.

Um.

Here’s the dealio, friends and neighbors and also pervs here for the scantily clad chick on the zebra. Yesterday, a guy at Gold’s Gym (and SIDEBAR, but does Gold’s Gym scare anyone else? It’s right next to Kmart here, and when I used to go to Kmart, I’d be afraid to walk to my car because the testosterone level in the parking lot was SO EFFING HIGH) “fell off his elliptical machine” and then “went over to the machine where another man was working out, increased the speed of the machine and punched the man in the face.”

Was that enough? No. No, that was not enough for Roid Rage Ricardo*. (*Not his real name.)

Roid Rage Ricardo, “who police described as 6-feet-1-inch tall, about 230 pounds and very muscular, then pushed over several universal weight machines, each weighing over 600 pounds…then went into an office where he ripped computers from the wall and toppled office furniture.” (Which I totally daydream about doing here at the office EVERY SINGLE DAY, just so you know.)

The police arrived. They tased him. (TASE HIM BRO. Please. He’s totally being a nuisance.) The taser brought him down. A cop was standing over? on? his back cuffing him, when he “stood up with the officer on his back.” Like they were playing that chicken game in the water that they play on old-timey movies!!! Totally fun. Only with TASERS. And HANDCUFFS. Also, are you imagining him growling? I am.

He then grabbed the taser from the cops, may or may not have tased himself, and had a heart attack and died not long after. He’d been tased 4-5 times total.

OK. LET ME REITERATE. I’m sorry he’s dead. It is sad. I don’t THINK anyone who knows him is reading this? But you never know. If you are friends or family with this person, my condolences. I am sorry for your loss. He might have been the kind of person who rescued puppies on his free time while also reading to blind war orphans, who knows. The NYS cops have recently been accused of overusing their tasers; whether or not that happened in this case, I can’t say. It does sound like they weren’t able to restrain him without one. Eyewitnesses say he was out of control and they were afraid. Three or four cops were injured bringing him down.

BUT WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON AT THE GOLD’S GYM.

Fell off his machine? Randomly went over to another guy’s machine, made him run fast fast fast like it was torture, then PUNCHED HIM IN THE FACE? Then TOTALLY Hulk-handsed the weight machines and the office!

Steroids, right? Steroids. One of my co-workers who is a killer of joy and also always insinuates himself into the conversation unneccessarily said that it was probably a brain tumor but what kind of brain tumor makes you all muscley and go to Gold’s Gym to work out and then Hulk out all over the gym equipment, I ask you? That’s an unlikely explanation, Joykiller. I mean, I guess it could also be angel dust. Didn’t that make Helen Hunt think she could fly on an ABC Afterschool Special or something? Maybe STEROIDS LACED WITH ANGEL DUST. And then maybe some PCP and the marijuana cigarettes. THIS IS HOW MY GRANDMOTHER TALKS ABOUT SMOKING THE DRUGS BTW.

THIS IS WHY I REFUSE TO WORK OUT I AM TOTALLY JUSTIFIED NOW.


I am the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

I’m fairly practical. I’m not scared of much. I know I’ve mentioned this. Sure, those stupid children’s haunted houses scare the crap out of me, but that’s mostly because I’m scared of the unknown, i.e. people jumping out at me, not so much the noises and the fake blood and the people dressed as emo mummies and what have you. I’m not scared of creepy-crawlies and I’m not scared of heights (well, I mean, I’m not saying I want to jump off of high things, that’s just stupid, but I wouldn’t be the person weeping and wailing on The Amazing Race too scared to go on the gondola over the mountains, if you know what I mean) and I’m not scared of horror movies (well, mostly, I mean, you’d have to be an idiot not to be a little creeped out by The Exorcist, right? I mean, that’s the DEVIL. Who’s not creeped out a little by the DEVIL? Weirdos, that’s who.)

I’m scared of things like not having enough money and losing my job and people I love dying and getting maimed in a fiery car crash and people touching me in crowds. You know, normal things like that. What, normal people aren’t scared of people touching them in crowds? FINE. That one’s a me-thing. LET ME HAVE IT.

However.  It’s Halloween. And, in honor of Halloween, which is actually, contrary popular belief, NOT “dress up like a skank ho” day and more “the wall between the worlds is thin” day, here are my somewhat otherworldly experiences, for you to take as you will.

I’ve been in two places where I had a weird feeling. No, not a “probably I shouldn’t be here, Fratboy Joe is really getting grabby hands after his fifth Jaeger shot,” but a “there’s something here that doesn’t want me here.” One was in a House of History/museum where I’d gone for a lecture about the history of the town where I lived. Halfway through the talk (which wasn’t even about ghosts or anything spooky), I started getting a very, very bad feeling. It wasn’t due to the audience, which was mostly me and then a ladies’ book club with a lot of red hats and blue hair; it was something in the room and something in the air. I can’t explain it. The house seemed negatively charged. The person giving the lecture had started by briefly saying it was one of the oldest houses in town, nothing more than that, so nothing that could have preyed on my subconscious. I stayed for the lecture, but can’t remember much of it. I was fighting with my flight response the entire time. After it was done, a guide appeared and asked if we’d like a tour of the house. I’d been planning on staying for the tour – as mentioned, nothing I like more than history – but I ran out like I’d forgotten the iron on and my house was on fire. I wish I could tell you I found out a triple homicide happened there or something, but I don’t know. Just one of those things, I guess.

Same thing happened, but on smaller scale, when my friend Mer and I went to visit the Winchester Mystery House in California about ten years ago. Loved the place – you just don’t get something creepier and more steeped in history than that house, plus it’s just utterly gorgeous (and there is TOTALLY a Big-style Zoltar machine in the lobby) – but we entered one room that the guide told us had been used for séances and I was immediately on alert, with everything in me screaming to get out. Nothing struck me as weird about the rest of the house. Do I think something bad happened in there? Do I think there were malevolent spirits? I don’t know. It’s pretty arrogant of me to think I know everything there is to know about the world, isn’t it? So I just don’t know.

I’ve also has had two occurrences happen to me that I can’t explain. One of which science seems to want to explain away for me; one of which I never got an explanation for.

The first was in my very first bachelorette apartment in graduate school. It was a tiny place – just a wee little studio, with the most adorable Murphy bed you’ve ever seen – and also, probably just about the least-likely place for anything strange to happen, because where would the ghost HIDE? The OVEN? There weren’t even any SHADOWS. It was like a walk-in CLOSET, it was so small.

One night, I woke up from a sound sleep and someone was standing over my bed.

I couldn’t see him clearly, just his shape. It was very dark in the apartment, and since I wear glasses, I’m pretty much blind without them when I wake up. He was standing to the left of me bed, watching me sleep. I could tell it was a male – the outline was too large and blocky to be female.

I couldn’t figure out how anyone got in. I’d locked and chained the door. I wasn’t sure if I should move, or stay very still and pretend to be still sleeping. I decided that was stupid, and opened my mouth to scream. I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Not a muscle. I was completely frozen in my bed. My cat, sleeping next to me, woke up, arched her back, hissed at the man and ran under the bed. I just stayed there, frozen, watching him. He didn’t move. I got very, very cold. I could see his eyes, just a glitter from them from the moonlight from the window.

When I woke up the next morning, of course there was no one there. The chain was still on the door. There wasn’t even any proof that it wasn’t a dream, so I suppose it could have been. But I don’t dream. Not really. I mean, sometimes I have very stupid dreams where I’m making out with my high school crush or something and just when it gets good the alarm goes off, but nothing like that. I’m still convinced, years later, something was there. It was too real to have been a dream. I don’t imagine things – contrary to popular belief, I’m just not that creative.

Apparently, this is a thing. It’s a syndrome, Sleep Paralysis. But I’ve read up on it and it doesn’t say anywhere that it happens to you once and never happens again. So sure, maybe it was a one-time occurrence of sleep paralysis. I mean, anything’s possible, right? But I think there was something in my apartment that night. I really do. I don’t know what it was, and I feel kind of stupid even saying it, but it was too real to have been out of my head. The things in my head are a lot more entertaining than a shadow with shiny eyes, I mean, seriously.

Second, and much less explained-away-by-science: I used to work at a theater that had a long history and was in a very old building. (I still do, just a different one in a different town, but unfortunately, no ghosties have popped up to say hi yet. And I’ve even encouraged them by walking around in the dark. I guess I need to yell “COME AT ME BRO!” and see what happens? No. No, I don’t think I will. That is actually the opposite of what I think I will do.)

One night, after our evening performance, the cast was going out to a party and I had to work early in the morning so I volunteered to stay and lock up so they could leave and get ready. I was alone in the building for a while, cleaning up, getting things set for the show the next day, puttering around in the theater, where I felt very comfortable.

I set the alarm, locked up, ran to my car, then realized I’d forgotten something (no idea what, it was a while ago) in the basement (where the dressing rooms and costume area were.) Cursing my idiocy, I ran back in, unlocked, unset the alarm, locked the door after me so no one would creep in while I was in the basement, and went downstairs. I only turned on a couple of lights because I knew exactly where what I needed was and I knew the place backward and forward. I didn’t need lights to find my way around.

I was halfway back from grabbing whatever it was and on my way back up when the noise started. It was coming from directly overhead – so the stage, which was what I was underneath at that point – and it was loud. The ceiling was shaking, it was so loud. I let out a little scream, because that’s the last thing you’re expecting when you’re alone in the half-dark, some sort of loud thundering noise.

It was horses. Horse hoofbeats. And what sounded like wheels. And it went on for a few minutes. I stood, frozen, listening, watching the fluorescents on the ceiling jiggle, wondering if the theater director, known for his pranks, could possibly have set up something this elaborate, with the sound AND the special effects AND the not-laughing (he was known for giggling halfway through his pranks and ruining them, and this was going on for a while.) I couldn’t think of any way anyone could do all of that, even with the theater’s sound system and technology to work with.

It stopped abruptly, like a cord had been yanked out. Everything was silent. I stood there for a few more minutes, then quickly ran upstairs, shutting off lights as I went, set the alarm pad, locked the door, and ran to my car.

No one ever mentioned it to me, so if it was a prank, they didn’t get the satisfaction of knowing how it affected me, if at all. I didn’t mention it to anyone because if it WAS somehow a prank, I didn’t want them to know it had unnerved me.

I read a few years later the theater used to be a saloon, and saw a photo of it in the 1800’s, with a horse and carriage pulled up in front. Could be coincidence. I didn’t know it at the time I heard the noise.

I still don’t have an explanation for it. I know it’s not scary, like a possible dream-man or maybe a killer WHO KNOWS standing over your bed. But it’s kind of cool. I probably should have gone upstairs and seen if there was a ghost cowboy who wanted me to be his ghost schoolmarm, because that might have been totally a romance novel waiting to happen, right? And – BONUS – it was kind of a night “mare.”GET IT BECAUSE HORSES. Ha!

Happy Halloween, everyone! May your evening be filled with fun-sized Snickers and kiddos dressed up like little hoboes and bobbing for apples and crunchy leaves and pumpkins glowing from porches. Just trust me on this – just say no to the sexy _______ (serial killer/baby doll/paparazzi/cow/etc.) costumes, ok? IT’S TOO COLD TO HAVE YOUR BUSINESS ALL HANGING OUT THERE LIKE THAT FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.


Ray, when someone asks you if you’re a god, you say “Yes!”

So it’s almost Halloween, and I wanted to do something Halloween-y. No kids ever come to my house for trick or treating, so that’s out. I hate stupid haunted houses, we’ve discussed that, and I’m pretty sure one of these years I’m going to be arrested for punching the entertainers for jumping out at me. I don’t do Halloween parties (yes, yes, I skipped the Lady Gaga-themed Halloween party, sorry to the people who were so encouraging about me going, I just did not have the courage to attend, and listen, I’ve seen some pictures, that place was PACKED with people, I would have had to hyperventilate into a paper BAG, it would NOT have been a good time, it is a good idea I stayed home.) So what to do to stay in the spirit, other than eat my weight in Reese’s Peanut Butter Pumpkins and watch horror movies?

HAUNTED CAPITOL TOUR.

OK, I live in the Capitol District of New York. I have for almost ten years now, but have never entered the Capitol Building itself, despite going by it a number of times. And listen, I LOVE HISTORY. It is INSANE how jazzed I get by cool historical things. I’m pretty sure I missed my calling and should have been an archaeologist because that would have been the coolest thing EVER, right? But not dinosaur bones. I mean, I don’t HATE dinosaur bones. The dinosaurs are cool with me. But I like old human things. Like old pottery and old buildings and old artifacts and talking to old people about old memories and old photos and old documents and researching old things. I loved that show Who Do You Think You Are even though it was kind of the cheesiest because those people got to go into old libraries and TOUCH OLD DOCUMENTS OMGWTFBBQ WANT WANT WANT. I also love old cemeteries and touching super-old gravestones and making up stories about the dead people. This makes my mother kind of insane and she thinks it’s sacrilegious but I think it’s totally respectful because otherwise those people would be FORGOTTEN. I think they LIKE that I’m making up stories about them. It makes them RELEVANT again. (I’m pretty sure the part my mother objected to was that I was accusing one dead person of having murdered another dead person so he could hump his dead wife but that’s really beside the point THE DEAD PEOPLE PROBABLY THOUGHT IT WAS ENJOYABLE.) Also old gravestones are the coolest, all worn and secretive.

ANYWAY. That was totally a tangent to rival all others. So this time of year, the Office of General Services does a series of tours of the Capitol Building where they show you the places where people are reported to have seen ghosts. GHOSTS! And OLD ARCHITECTURE! I’ve been meaning to do this for a couple of years but for one reason or another every year something has come up. NOT THIS YEAR BABY!

Since it's daylight in this photo, obviously the ghosts are ASLEEP.

Well, something did come up but I totally overcame it. Hello, FIRST FRIGGING SNOWFALL OF THE SEASON. In OCTOBER. We got a little over an inch, probably, I don’t know, it’s not like I researched it. This weather caused accidents and everyone to forget how to drive. The roads aren’t even frozen yet. It’s just white rain at this point. DRIVE NORMAL YOU WEIRDOS. SNOW IS NOT KEEPING ME FROM SEEING ARCHITECTURE AND GHOSTS.

Here’s a little about our awesome state capitol because I love shit like this. Sorry. Skip ahead to the ghosts if you must. It was completed in 1899. It’s built to mimic Romanesque and neo-Renaissance architecture and also so it looks like a castle. A CASTLE OMG HOW MUCH DO I LOVE CASTLES.  It cost a lot of money. Probably because it’s awesome. It’s also really a working building. I mean, you probably all knew that, but I don’t know, I don’t realize things sometimes. This is where the state assembly meets. And state senators’ offices are in there. It’s all very impressive and my head almost exploded 47 times. But I am jumping ahead of myself.

So I showed up and I brought my camera in case they let us take photos because I didn’t know what the protocol was. Was it all state secrets and they might think I was a bomber, or were they cool with it? And then our tour guide showed up and he was just adorable, you guys. He was all into it! In a little old-timey costume! With a coat with tails and little old-fashioned glasses and a watch with a chain and an ascot! Aw! He looked like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland if he somehow became human.

Our tour group was largely unremarkable and very nice. There was a toddler who was into everything and I was pretty sure she was going to fall down a number of flights of stairs but her father stopped her so all was well.

The White Rabbit (I have no idea what his name was. He didn’t tell us. Or he might have. I don’t pay close attention to things) told us to take a LOT of photos. Well! I WILL THANK YOU.

First, we had the spooky “going through the metal detectors” step of our tour. I always feel like I’m a terrorist when I’m doing this. I mean, I’m not, or anything, and I even left most of my things in the car so I didn’t have to carry them around the tour, but I always feel like the people manning the metal detector know something about me I don’t even know about myself. I went through and the man behind the detector stopped me on the other side.

“For future reference, we DON’T keep our hands in our pockets in a METAL DETECTOR,” he said.

Um. We don’t? I didn’t…shouldn’t that be spelled out if it’s a totally serious rule? Also, if I’m hiding something metal in my hand in my pocket wouldn’t the metal detector pick that up even through my pocket AND my hand?

Also, I hate when people say “we” like that. It’s condescending. My grandmother and mother’s response, when someone says that, is to reply “We? Do you have a mouse in your pocket?” That is nonsensical and my favorite response. However, I didn’t think it would go over well with Officer Crankypants.

VERY SPOOKY START TO THE TOUR.

The White Rabbit led us up an escalator (That kid! Is on the escalator again! Sorry, sometimes Mallrats slips in) and then we started our tour.

I AM IN LOVE WITH THE STATE CAPITOL.

Now listen! I am pretty well schooled in the ways of ghost hunting? Because you KNOW how close Zak Bagans and I am. I mean, I am the GO-TO person when someone is searching for Zak Bagans online, according to my search results. So I know about EVP and orbs and (heh) Melmeters.

The White Rabbit brought us to three spots where ghosts have been seen, then a few spots where there were cool things to see, and encouraged us, if we were interested in further history of the building, to come back for the actual Capitol tour, which I didn’t know was a thing but now I am OBSESSED with doing because you guys, YOU GUYS, the Capitol is the MOST AWESOME THING EVER.

Also I totally think I captured a shot of a ghost on my camera. Like, I have more evidence of a ghost than Zak has in all his years of dude-ing and bro-ing.

WAIT TIL YOU SEE.

Here are some things we saw on our tour:

The Million Dollar Steps! Sorry, it was kind of dark on them because it was almost nighttime and my flash doesn’t permeate the gloom like I’d like it to. They are all made of carved sandstone and are awesome. There are a ton of things carved into them and things to look at everywhere you look. It is the coolest. HOWEVER! This was the scariest part of the tour? I HAD TO WALK DOWN THEM. And listen, I am totally clumsy when it comes to steps. And these steps were a., very smooth and slippy, b., all the same color so very hard to see where the next one started, and c., didn’t have any handrails because I guess back in the day they wanted people to die. And there were a million things to look at. So for three flights, I pretty much risked my neck almost dying and was the last one to come down the stairs because I was going really slow like I had a broken hip and children on our tour were flitting up and down them and that was distressing because DEATH, kids, DEATH if you fall down these stairs and then YOU will be one of the ghosts on the tour.

Here are some things we saw on the steps:

A random dog/gryphon thingy! I liked him.

A scary woman! I don't know who this was but she seemed ghostly.

John Brown! His body has a hole upon its chest! Also? He looks PISSED about it.

Scary twins! I like to imagine they're the twins from "The Shining."

A weird old man with his mouth hanging open!

Also I saw a super-awesome snake but the White Rabbit was all “gather ’round people!” at that point so I couldn’t take a photo of it.

Also…how about seeing WHERE GOVERNMENT HAPPENS DUN DUN DUNNNN?

New York State Assembly Chamber baby! BIG TIME RIGHT HERE!!!

Now I know what you’re thinking. “Um, but I thought this was the ghost tour? I’m not seeing much in the way of ghosts, here.”

YOU ARE TOTALLY RIGHT AND PLUS ONE TO YOU.

There weren’t many ghosts. I mean, he told us about places where ghosts were seen. The three biggest places were right in the Assembly Chamber above, where the ghost of the artist who painted the murals for the chamber (which have been since lost when the new ceiling was put in, and how sad is that? They’re above the new ceiling, slowly deteriorating with water damage. If I was a ghost I’d haunt the place, too) is supposed to be; on the stairs, where a despondent fruit vendor committed suicide (OR SLIPPED, those stairs were totally treacherous, how about some effing HANDRAILS for the love of Pete!); and in the HALLWAY OF DOOM.

I made that name up. I have no idea what it was really called.

In the HALLWAY OF DOOM (which totally just looked like a hallway in the state college I attended, it was very nondescript) a night watchman died in the great Capitol fire of 1911. His ghost is said to haunt the hallway TO THIS DAY. Well, that’s totally interesting, but the minute I entered the hallway, I almost DIED because every door in it said “DO NOT ENTER SENATOR’S OFFICE” and that was SO EXCITING I COULDN’T EVEN. Those doors belonged to the offices of OUR ELECTED OFFICIALS. I honestly was just about having a fit of excitement and it had nothing to do with poor burned to a crisp Samuel Abbott. I LOVE DEMOCRACY AND HISTORY.

So while the White Rabbit was talking about Samuel Abbott I pretended I was taking a photo of the historic site of his death but really I wanted a photo of what the hallway looked like because I wanted to remember what it was like to be in a hallway where THE SENATORS I VOTED FOR WORKED. (Yes, yes, I realize that this makes me sound like a country mouse who doesn’t understand that democracy is kind of a sham. I DON’T CARE I THINK DEMOCRACY IS THE MOST AWESOME AND I LOVE VOTING SO LET ME HAVE MY HAPPY.)

Well, joke was on me. Samuel Abbott was PISSED I wasn’t paying attention to his story, apparently.

This is the hallway and it’s not even easy to see the doorway but in my head it was more awesome than it ended up, photographically. But savvy ghost-hunter types, do you see the GHOST?

Here. I enhanced it for you like Zak does.

ORB!!!!

So orbs are either the flash reflecting off dust (unlikely, in this case, as I was completely far down the hallway and zoomed up close to get this shot so how could the flash have reflected off something that far down the hall?) or flaws on the camera or lens (nope, again, none of my other shots have the same flaw) or A GHOST MANIFESTING ITSELF. Well! I think we all know what it was. A GHOST, BABY.

Yep, so I’m pretty sure that on top of my next career as a wedding advice giver and an archaeologist and a very famous blogger I’m going to be the best ghost hunter ever. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT ORB. I mean, seriously, Zak has never had an orb that awesome, EVER. He WISHES he had an orb like that.

Finally, the White Rabbit brought us to the Capitol Demon, which is a little carving that some people think is cursed. Here:

Aw! Cutest evil carving EVER.

I liked the Capitol Demon and did not think it was cursed mostly because I feel like I was being protected by my ORB OF RIGHTEOUSNESS and also I had survived THE MILLION DOLLAR STEPS OF CERTAIN DOOM so I was feeling pretty invincible at that moment.

In summation: I live in the best state ever with the best Capitol ever; I am the best ghost hunter ever; I did not fall to my death and die on the steps of death; and HISTORY ROCKS MY FACE OFF.

I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.


In the dark night of the soul, it is very hard to see what is trying to eat your face.

This is kind of going to be a random crap Friday. That should become a thing. RANDOM CRAP FRIDAY! For when your brain is so fried from the rest of the week that you can’t concentrate on one thing! But really, when you look over my posts, you see that a lot of them are Random-Crap-Whatever-Day-It-Was-At-The-Time so really Random Crap Friday wouldn’t so much be a “thing” as it would be “just another day where I have too much crap to talk about.” 

IF I CAN’T SEE IT, IT ISN’T SCARY 

Wednesday night, I started watching Insidious. And it scared the CRAP out of me. It was a horror movie done well. A slow-burn, scary children, creepy things happening, stuff jumping out at you, frightening violin music, probably the devil, horror movie. NICE. Plus ONE, Insidious. Then I had to turn it off about halfway through, for two reasons: one, because two shows I wanted to watch were coming on, and two, because I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I watched the rest of it. 

So last night, when it was still light out, I turned on the second half, because I am a big baby. And the second half of Insidious? WAS STUPID. 

Here’s the thing. (Don’t worry. No spoilers. Unless you consider film values to be spoilery.) Horror movie people? I get that the dark is inherently scary. I totally get that. Things aren’t as scary in the light as they are in the dark, either in movies, or in real life. But if you make a movie SO DARK that you can’t see what it is the character is reacting/screaming to or fighting with? THAT IS NOT SCARY. It’s really just frustrating. I spent about an hour having this monologue with the movie. 

“Ooh, don’t go in there. Why would you go in there? That seems like a stupid move. Why don’t you have a flashlight? Well, it’s totally pitch-black in there. Good call. Why are you screaming? What do you see? Because I can’t see anything. Is something touching you? How would I know that since I’m not you? I mean, I can’t see anything. My television screen is just black from corner to corner, with screams coming out of the speakers. Oh, there, you’re back in the light. Good. WHY ARE YOU GOING BACK INTO THE DARK YOU HAVE NO IMPETUS TO DO SO. Oh, good. Well, I can’t see again. Ah, a total surprise you’re screaming again. Maybe you have Tourette’s. Do you think you have Tourette’s? And you just scream like it’s a tic? I don’t know. I mean, there totally could be a demon waiting to eat your face hanging from the ceiling, but I wouldn’t know, and neither would you, because it’s like the pit of blackness in your kid’s bedroom. Why don’t you have some nightlights up in there or something? Someone could stub a toe. OH GOOD MORE SCREAMING. THIS IS A TOTALLY FULFILLING MOVIE EXPERIENCE.” 

Maybe if you have a better television or DVD player than I do, you would have a better experience with this movie, I don’t know. It was fairly good up until I couldn’t see things. Then it wasn’t so good. But maybe it would have remained good if I could see what was happening? Probably it was a masterpiece, but I wouldn’t know. 

And it’s not just Insidious that’s like this. This is a problem with a lot of current horror movies. I just can’t see anything. Is it because the special effects are awful and you know I won’t be scared so you don’t want me to see them too closely so you make it really dark? I get that, because remember in Signs (why am I talking about Signs so much lately? That’s odd) when you were SO SCARED of the aliens until you SAW the aliens and then you thought, hmm, that looks like a prize from the bottom of a cereal box and isn’t even the least bit scary? That’s all anyone could talk about once that movie came out. Which was sad because it’s still one of my favorite movies ever. Whatever, I don’t judge YOUR taste in movies, so shut it, Sparky. 

Also, while we’re talking about it, stop making me want to see movies I know are going to be a steaming pile of garbage, production companies. I am specifically talking about Paranormal Activity 3. Now, when Paranormal Activity came out, I was SO STOKED to watch this. This looked AWESOME. Like the Blair Witch Project all grown up. I was so excited. People said it was the scariest movie they’d seen all year! Then I watched it. 

Well, either I’m broken and jaded, or it was garbage, because here’s my review of Paranormal Activity in a nutshell. I feel like I don’t have to tell you spoiler alert because it’s like 4 years old or something, right? Paranormal Activity is a movie about two people that about 5 minutes in you want to see murdered in completely bloody and creative ways that keep filming themselves for no reason anyone can ascertain and then things happen to them that aren’t even in the least bit scary, but only like a handful of things, and the rest of the movie is them SNIPING AT EACH OTHER. CONSTANTLY. It is THE MOST AWFUL THING EVER. It’s like Ghost Adventures if Zak was dating one of his fellow adventurers and they had a falling-out. It’s so, so bad. It’s “fighting fighting fighting something falls off a table kind of mysteriously and it might even just have been gravity fighting fighting in a whiny-ass voice fighting there’s a photo in the attic that shouldn’t be there fighting fighting loud unexplained noises fighting oh look a knife now it’s over.” I honestly think painting my nails and clipping coupons would have made for a more enjoyable two hours. 

So Paranormal Activity 2 kind of came and went, and I of course had no interest in it (the only thing I remember about it is I think it had something to do with a haunted baby and in the trailer they kept saying the baby’s name over and over in a stupid and repetitive way) and then the trailers for Paranormal Activity 3 started airing and DAMMIT they look really good. But I will not be suckered! It will be GARBAGE. Even though the early reviews I read say it’s actually pretty good I WILL NOT BE FOOLED PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 3. Also? Do you know who the directors are? Those dorks that made Catfish. We TALKED about Catfish. It was a TRICK. I AM NOT GOING TO BE FOOLED BY YOU CATFISH DORKS! 

On a happier horror-related note, I am LOVING American Horror Story. Yes, I know, a lot of people think it’s cheesy and borrows way too much from other horror tropes and what have you. I get that. And as a huge horror fan, I am aware of the horror it’s borrowing from. But I don’t mind. It’s innovative, it’s a cool thing to have on television, it’s bloody, it has some genuine scares (tell me you didn’t jump a little at the beginning of the second episode with the killer and the nurses! That was SO AWESOMELY SCARY!), it has some excellent performances (I am NOT looking at you, Connie Britton, but I AM looking at you, Jessica Lange), it’s creative, and it has a lot of stories to tell that keep it fresh. Absolute kudos to you, Ryan Murphy. I look forward to this every single week. 

PRESENT! 

So remember we talked about the fancy restaurant and how they had super-swanky salt-and-pepper shakers there and I wanted to put them in my purse SO BAD but my father was not all that approving of me stealing them because he thought probably they’d arrest me because they were worth more than my  house? Well, one of my readers, Duncan, who MIGHT just be the coolest of the cool, wrote and offered to send me swanky salt and pepper shakers OF MY VERY OWN. Well! Since I am currently working with a salt shaker from the dollar store that was in my Christmas stocking a few years ago and it has a dented top from the time I dropped it on my foot, and a pepper shaker which is just the tin container that the pepper comes in, I of COURSE jumped all OVER this. Who knew that when you are a SUPER FAMOUS BLOGGER you get presents? I mean, people like The Bloggess get presents, but me? Well, if I had known that, I would have started blogging YEARS ago. Anyway, Duncan, Duncan’s friend Rennie, and an unnamed friend who I cannot thank but I’m sure is also awesome, sent the package out last week, and the package with my salt and pepper shakers is (I think – what else would it be, it’s not like I get a lot of mail) waiting for me at the theater, where I will be going tonight to attend a pre-critique of our next show. I AM SO EXCITED YOU GUYS I CAN’T EVEN. A present! A present I do not deserve but am getting anyway from a COMPLETE STRANGER! I think this kind of means I HAVE FANS! This is SO MUCH BETTER than the time this guy I barely knew gave me a basketball jersey that was three sizes too small “because it looked like something you might like” and I am still totally confused about that. I will report back sometime this weekend with MANY PHOTOS detailing my swag. SO SO EXCITED. 

YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF HORNDOGS 

If I had known earlier that I would get more blog hits than ANYONE EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER by doing a post about handsome men that I want to boff, I would have done it MONTHS ago. Seriously, I had more site hits yesterday than I have since I moved over to WordPress. This made me just joyous. Who doesn’t love handsome men? Also, this seems to prove my point that I have a lot of female and gay male readers. Oh, and maybe also pervs who want to hear about me getting it on. YOU ARE ALL WELCOME HERE. Even you, pervs. But keep it in your pants. No one wants to see that, ok? 

DON’T TASE ME, BRO 

This isn’t so much part of Random Crap Friday as it is something that made me snort lemonade through my nose the other night, but the local news station did a report about how the New York State Police are abusing tasers (as in, tasing people all over the place for no reason, not like snorting them or something), and in the beginning of the local news show that airs from 8-9pm, the anchor (who I like very much, she is very serious, and sometimes gets very sarcastic and mean in a funny way) was teasing stories that were upcoming, and looked at the camera very seriously and said, “Don’t tase me, bro. New York State police are abusing the use of tasers…” AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN SMILE. And the photo card thing she was voicing over SAID “Don’t Tase Me Bro” on it LIKE IT WAS A SERIOUS TAG LINE. I loved that so hard. How can you say “Don’t tase me bro” without laughing? AWESOME. 

WEDDING TIP! WEDDING TIP! 

No, of course I didn’t forget! This might be the last wedding tip that Kickass McGee reads before she becomes a Mrs.! So of course it needs to be a doozy! 

Today’s tip: Watch out for strangely feminine gardeners with all the manure and an axe to grind

Paraphrased, per Snopes

An Australian woman, upset that her long-term boyfriend had dumped her and then two months later was getting married to who SHOULD have been his rebound girl, disguised herself with a false beard and moustache and masqueraded as a gardener to get into his wedding. Once there, armed with a bucket of wet cow manure, she found her ex surrounded by friends and therefore inaccessible, so decided to dump the manure on his bride, ruining her dress. 

Well, first, I have to wonder, what the hell, Australia? First you had the kerfuffle with the kookaburras, and now manure-flinging? And second, you go, manure-flinger! Way to commit to a plan! Listen, you guys, she DRESSED UP as a gardener. I mean, she didn’t just wait outside for them to get into the limo, or something. She put on a little COSTUME. This is DEDICATION, right here. 

Kickass McGee! Please speak to your intended and be sure that he has no angry exes who have nefarious plans like manure-flinging, because I don’t want to have to come there and kick anyone’s ass for ruining your big day. Because I would, Kickass McGee. I totally would. Maybe put someone on bouncer duty at the entrance, and have them tug on all the moustaches, or something? That would weed out the people just DRESSED as gardeners. Or have them feel the gardeners for tits. That’d also work. Downside to both of those plans: real gardeners, or female gardeners, might punch them. Best to not have your wedding anywhere garden-y, I’d think. 

Happy weekend, all!


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