These nice people have offered to help
So lately there have been all sorts of creepy goings-on in my digs.. there have been signs but i've been too mr. science to notice them.. come to think about it, it seems its been happening from the day i moved in. then i had a soccer pitch for a living room, with a tv (with the biggest remote i've ever seen) and like two sufurias, a spoon, a plate and a cup. but on any given day, you'd spend a minimum of three hours tracking down the remote control, in a very empty digs.
i never really gave it much thought but happenings in the last few months have had me thinking. on one loose week, my comp sputtered, coughed up some foul looking phlegm, keeled over and died a painful, writhing death. nuts. a day later, my tenj went off and never came on again. a day later my digicam started having uncontrollable orgasms (ps: if you're looking for a digicam, do NOT buy the sony dsc w50.. very bad build and a favourable conduit for spiritual activity). so basically, that week i was rather fucked. then there was the mystery of the noises.
dozing off to bed one evening, i heard this tremendous crash. it was so loud that i got up running for the door. disoriented, unfocussed, without my specs so bordering on blind and stark naked i crouched and stealthily knocked down everything in my way as i did a cursory search of the digs.
nothing.
i walked back to the bed, wore my specs and did a more thorough search of the house. nothing. nothing at al... wait, what the..?
my big-ass, heavy-ass wooden chopping board lay on the floor of the kitchen smack in the centre.. what in the world..? the drawer in which it was kept was shut. strange. ah well, gotta get back to sleep. i picked it up, stuffed it in the drawer, said a few harsh words to the poltergeist and went back to sleep.
next evening, midnight, deep asleep, a hear scrunching noises under my bed. get up, turn on the light, look underneath, see absolutely jack shit, (excepting my stash of experimental bongs in a large paper bag), go back to sleep.
by now i was getting really tired of this shit. so i decided to eliminate possibilities. i ensured i closed and locked all doors, windows, drawers et al. nothing was left in the dish rack, bottles were stored away, not loosely left posing.
then some loose night, i hear wailing in the digs...
you know, that wailing for a lost soul trapped in between worlds, knowing how fucked it is, and knowing the devil is coming to get it.. and it got louder and louder. after all the horror movies i've watched i'm beyond screaming incoherent fits of terror cowered in the corner of my bedroom. i dragged my scientific ass out of the bed, calmly wore my specs and trudged to the living room, where, much to my gaping, wide eyed horror, i realized the godawful racket was quite real. and in this room.
a cold chill doesn't run down your spine. who the fuck said a cold chill runs down your spine? its more like you're naked, and a huge slab of frozen beef is thrown at you from behind.
erm... i think i'll finish this blog in the office..
i never really gave it much thought but happenings in the last few months have had me thinking. on one loose week, my comp sputtered, coughed up some foul looking phlegm, keeled over and died a painful, writhing death. nuts. a day later, my tenj went off and never came on again. a day later my digicam started having uncontrollable orgasms (ps: if you're looking for a digicam, do NOT buy the sony dsc w50.. very bad build and a favourable conduit for spiritual activity). so basically, that week i was rather fucked. then there was the mystery of the noises.
dozing off to bed one evening, i heard this tremendous crash. it was so loud that i got up running for the door. disoriented, unfocussed, without my specs so bordering on blind and stark naked i crouched and stealthily knocked down everything in my way as i did a cursory search of the digs.
nothing.
i walked back to the bed, wore my specs and did a more thorough search of the house. nothing. nothing at al... wait, what the..?
my big-ass, heavy-ass wooden chopping board lay on the floor of the kitchen smack in the centre.. what in the world..? the drawer in which it was kept was shut. strange. ah well, gotta get back to sleep. i picked it up, stuffed it in the drawer, said a few harsh words to the poltergeist and went back to sleep.
next evening, midnight, deep asleep, a hear scrunching noises under my bed. get up, turn on the light, look underneath, see absolutely jack shit, (excepting my stash of experimental bongs in a large paper bag), go back to sleep.
by now i was getting really tired of this shit. so i decided to eliminate possibilities. i ensured i closed and locked all doors, windows, drawers et al. nothing was left in the dish rack, bottles were stored away, not loosely left posing.
then some loose night, i hear wailing in the digs...
you know, that wailing for a lost soul trapped in between worlds, knowing how fucked it is, and knowing the devil is coming to get it.. and it got louder and louder. after all the horror movies i've watched i'm beyond screaming incoherent fits of terror cowered in the corner of my bedroom. i dragged my scientific ass out of the bed, calmly wore my specs and trudged to the living room, where, much to my gaping, wide eyed horror, i realized the godawful racket was quite real. and in this room.
a cold chill doesn't run down your spine. who the fuck said a cold chill runs down your spine? its more like you're naked, and a huge slab of frozen beef is thrown at you from behind.
erm... i think i'll finish this blog in the office..
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