Archive for the ‘Fears’ Category

We’ve all heard stories of ghosts, paranormal activities, or maybe just weird, unexplainable events. Heck, sometimes it can be as innocuouos as simply losing your car keys. The point is events happen in this world that defy explanation.

I’ve had my fair share of baffling experiences, and I’ve written about some of them on this site. For those interested, just click on any of the links below:

The Man in the Tuxedo

A story about a foggy night, a car wreck and my encounter with an old man in a tuxedo.

The Scariest Christmas

One Christmas morning long ago, somebody or something looked into our front door window. I can still see it today.

A Strange Phone Call

If you have an explanation for this one I’d sure like to hear it.

And I haven’t written about this since it happened over 20-years ago, but I’ll tell you a story now. A few people have heard about it, but not many . . .

It was June of 1996, less than a month after my friend and brother-in-law Jigger had passed away suddenly. We were best friends, took many trips together, and he was even my school principal. When he died it took everyone by surprise and hit us all very hard. Jigger was was married to my sister Karen and we’d all been going to Oak Island, North Carolina on vacation since 1978. Jigger had passed away in late May, but as a family we decided to take our annual trip in June because we knew Jigger would want it that way. For some reason I had to leave the beach a couple days early, so I decided to stop halfway home to rest. I checked into a hotel near Winston-Salem, NC and made it to my room. It was one of those rooms that was actually three rooms, one just inside the door with a little seating area and an extra TV, the other with the bed, and of course the bathroom. There was actually a little area between the rooms with a closet and little bar area for coffee and whatnot. Anyway, I was bushed so I had room service and fell asleep pretty early.

Sometime that night I had the dream. In the dream I woke up in that very hotel room, and I noticed a lamp was on in the other room. I knew I hadn’t left it on because I always leave the bathroom light on and leave that door cracked open a bit. I got out of bed to go turn the lamp off and there, sitting on a chair, was Jigger. I wasn’t scared at all, just surprised. He was wearing khaki pants, a flannel shirt, boat shoes without socks, his trademark Micky Mouse watch, and he was smiling at me. I asked what he was doing there and he proceeded to tell me that I needed to take care of Sis, that she wouldn’t be able to handle his death very well, and that she was going to need me. He also told me to let her know that it was ok to move on, that she had a lot of life left to live. I told him I would, and he stood up, hugged me, and as we let go of the embrace I woke up.

I sat up in bed and immediately walked into the other room, but of course the light was off and nobody was there. Everything was just as I’d left it before I went to bed.

Yes, I know it was just a dream, but it was so vivid. And who dreams about a hotel room they’d just walked into a few hours earlier? The same exact hotel room? To this day I believe that, somehow, Jigger reached out to me that night.

Another incident, which I wrote about in my story entitled Losing Tim, details the day one of my best friends was laid to rest and what happened when I returned home that night.

While thinking about ghosts, paranormal activities and other strange occurrences the other day I had the idea to reach out to my friends on social media and ask this question: What are your stories? Have you experienced unexplained events?

What follows are the stories that were sent to me. I’ve left out full names and used only initials, and in some cases changed the initials entirely if the writer asked me to do so. Enjoy, and pull those covers up tightly tonight . . .


I grew up in a haunted house. It was old, built in early 1900s. We found old tin pictures of the house during construction. My sister and I used to hear a little kid crying for us in the middle of the night. Our dog would growl with every hair standing up while staring at our stairs. My grandparents lived on a farm and my papaw had a stroke. While he was in rehab, my grandmother stayed with us. One morning at breakfast, my grandma asked my dad why he had been so dressed up the night before. Confused, he said that he went to bed when she did and hadn’t been up. To this day, she tells of a man wearing a suit and top hat that visited her that night and kissed her softly on the forehead and told her to sleep well. Fast forward about 20 years, my parents were selling their house and moving. My sister and I had our old high school friends over for one last slumber party. We were playing games and taking pictures on our cell phones. My sister started freaking out because she took a picture of me in our rocking chair. Looking at the picture, I was sitting on a tall mans lap and he was wearing a suit and a top hat. We ALL saw the picture that night. We uploaded it to a 1 hour photo place and eventually fell asleep. We woke the next morning and the picture was just of me. No man. We rushed to town to pick up the printed photos and EVERY picture we took that night was blank. My mom would be reading and the touch lamp would turn on and off continuously. She would finally say “pick one, you’re making me dizzy and I’m trying to read” and every time it would stay on!!! After I had my daughter, every picture we took of her in that house she was surrounded by orbs. We lived there about 25 years, so obviously they were kind spirits.

And one more freaky thing that happened. My grandpa passed when I was a junior. I still visit his grave; he was my best friend. When my oldest daughter was about 3 and my youngest 1 they were with me.  My oldest, in a tiny voice said, “Sissy, look at all those beautiful people dancing. They look happy and pretty in white.” We were the only people in that cemetery.


I was 11 yrs old and living in Cedarville at the time. 1977 was the year. I’d been told of a friend of mines house being haunted. One day I went home with him after school as I had many times before. We walked to his house. As we walked onto the porch the phone was ringing. We walked in (door was unlocked as always) and the ringing stopped as Randy walked towards the wall phone in the kitchen. We then heard a thump upstairs and he started calling out for his mom who wasn’t there, which wasn’t unusual. We both walked up the stairs (the only stairs in house) into his mom’s room where the only other phone was in the house. The phone was laying on the floor off the hook. This was way before cell or even cordless phones. Anyone who knows about these type of phones knows with one receiver off the hook the phone rang busy and was impossible for the phone to be ringing when we got there. We’d heard the thump, which had to be the phone hitting the floor. Randy was an only child and nobody else besides his mother lived there. There was no other way besides the stairs (that were in full view of us} to leave the 2nd floor, just an attic hatch in the upstairs hall that couldn’t be reached without a chair or ladder. Needless to say we both ran after realizing what had happened. I never went back inside that house, ever. I played in the yard but never walked in.


I remarried 10 years ago, the same year that my mother passed away from a car accident. My husband and I were setting on the front porch the day before the wedding (we already lived together), and we heard my youngest son yelling inside the house and another running through the house. Thinking the boys were just carrying on like boys do, we just shrugged it off. That night I woke to go to the bathroom, and as I stepped out into the hallway I froze. I saw a figure at the other end of the hall. I stood there a couple minutes and it just disappeared. Flash forward a few days. We are sitting at home talking, and I proceeded to tell them about what I saw that night when I woke up. My husband says the hair on his arms stood up, because that very same night he awoke at about 3am and saw a figure standing at the end of our bed. My son then chimed in and said, “Didn’t you hear Logan yelling that day in the house?” I said “Yeah, but I just figured you guys were goofing off.” Adam proceeded to tell me that Logan had been lying in our bedroom and started yelling, so he ran down the hall to check on him. When he got to our room Logan was under the blanket, scared, because he’d seen a figure at the bedroom door and it wouldn’t let him out. I am a believer in paranormal, but also believe many things can be debunked. But this many things happening all within the same 24 hrs to different people within the same house who never spoke of any of it until days later was just too much for me to write off as coincidence. I’ve always believed it was my mother coming to see me on the eve of my wedding, and my husband believed it was his mother who passed away when he was 9 years old.


I’m kind of surprised how many people are willing to share there ghost experiences. The ghost I saw used to live in the house next to J.H. I immediately recognized who it was, R.G. (a familiar figure around town who’d passed away). He’d always worn a wide brimmed hat and always carried a basket on his arm and that’s exactly the way he looked, totally unchanged. It was real as real can be. He walked into the bedroom, was about five feet from me, looked at me, turned and walked out. I then heard the back door along with the storm door open and close.


There was a picture hanging above the piano in my house growing up in Idaho Falls of a young boy and girl holding hands on the front porch of an older house. Black and white photo. One day I was passing through the living room and glanced at the photo and rather than the kids sitting on the porch there was a portrait of an elderly woman with gray curly hair to the shoulders, staring at me. It was just a glance and by the time I looked back the picture was as normal, just the boy and girl. It was really weird. I still remember her face vividly. Still not sure what to think about it but I’m sure my mind was just playing tricks on me. Fun fact though – we purchased the home and moved in after an elderly widow died in the home.


The house we lived in when I was a baby was located where the hospital parking lot in my town is now. They would often find me out of my crib and asleep on the hallway floor. Neither of my older brothers were big enough at the time to get me out and do it. They said there would be times that a man would walk into their closet at night, take his hat off, place it across his chest and just stand there. Dad said he finally told him he was scaring his family and it was time for him to go. He placed the family Bible on a shelf in the closet and the guy never returned.

The house I grew up in had a lady that we all saw several times. She would be seen walking up the stairs or just appear then be gone. My brother Bill swore she hit him and knocked him down the stairs one evening. On another occasion we were in the dining room playing a board game and one of my oldest brother’s friend was sitting beside me. We both looked up at the same time to see her looking at us. Without even looking toward the stairs my brother said “You just saw her didn’t you.” That guy didn’t come back in the house for a week.

Several years later after mom and dad had divorced, my youngest brother found a locket with a lady’s picture it and gave it to mom. When her then boyfriend opened it he threw it across the room and said “that’s her.” Mom asked who and he said the woman that lives in this house. We didn’t know that he’d ever seen her.


I have seen some unexplained things in the past but won’t say for sure I have seen a ghost. My son on the other hand came out of his bedroom one night when we lived on near Bourneville and said that he was worried about the black guy holding a gun that was standing out side of his bedroom door (his bedroom was the last door on the left just for reference). Naturally I got up to see what he was talking about. No black guy. He told me I probably wouldn’t see him but he was there every night. Commence the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. The more I asked about him the more intrigued I got. He was 4-5 at the time and told me the guy was there every night for as long as he could remember. He only showed up when it was dark and would be gone if he got up in the night. He told me that he was always holding a gun and it was like he was watching over him or guarding him. Maybe even like an old man or something. I don’t know how he got the old man thing since by “black man”, he meant like a silhouette. Small back story, I had to “install” a switch in my son’s room that would turn on a “forcefield” to not let the monsters and bad things into the house. He told me that he had even tried to flip the switch a couple times in the beginning to see if it would make the guy go away, but it did not. He said he was never afraid of the guy because he seemed like he was there to help or protect him. When he would happen to mention him again I would go check and see if I could see what he was seeing, like a shadow or something. Nothing. I even laid in bed one time with him and waited a while, at one point he said the creepiest words I have ever heard – “There he is”. Holy shit man, there wasn’t a damn thing in that hallway, not even a shadow. I have only one conclusion for this story and that it was my grandpa looking over him. Never the less it’s a creepy, yet interesting, story.


I have seen what’s called (after researching a bit) ectoplasm just weeks after my wife’s sister passed from a car accident. Later that morning my wife saw it also. I told her I saw something earlier that morning when I was up for work and she guessed a ghost. Two different areas of the house at two different times of the morning. Neither of us saw it again.


I have only told my mom and dad this story but I had a dream one night that I was at my Grandma’s funeral. The only people I recognized were my mom and dad and a couple other people but I knew it was a funeral for my grandma. She’s fallen in the bathtub and she was losing her memory every day up until the end. Anyway, to finish the story I woke up and walked out into the living room and my mom and dad were both out there and they asked me why I was up. I told them I had a weird dream that Grandma died and I was at her funeral. They told me that they’d been called and told that she’d died about 15 minutes before I walked into the room.

Here’s another one. I went to Mansfield Reformatory for a private ghost hunt. There were only 40 or so people there instead of the usual 100 or so they get during a regular ghost hunt. Before it started we took a tour of the place and as it started to get later in the day, the overall mood of the place changed. It was like the energy flipped. We walked through the old part of the building where the old wardens and their families stayed and a couple of the rooms were used for the movie Shawshank Redemption. We moved to a big hallway and I was leaning against the doorway that led down to another part of the wing. As the woman was explaining about the history I heard the sound of what I can describe as somebody who is starting to cook/bake and is searching for pots and pans. I can distinctly hear pots and pans being shuffled around. Strange thing is, with a couple people around me, they didnt hear it. About a minute later I hear it again and its louder than the first time. I turn around and look behind me to see if it was maybe a staff member still walking around before they shut the doors for the night but there’s nobody there. But, a woman who was leaning in the same place I was and on the opposite side of the doorway leans over and asks “Did you hear that?” I told her yes and I asked her what she heard and she told me that she heard metal like pots and pans being moved around. I told her I heard the same thing and when we asked others in front of us if they heard it, they all said no. Now here is the creepy part. The guide takes us down the hallway to where the noises we heard came from. She goes on to explain that there used to be a kitchen where the warden’s wife would cook and bake cakes for his friends and family. The kicker is, there were no pots and pans there in that room. It was completely empty.


In the old farm house where I was raised there definitely was a spirit in the upstairs. I was the only one who could feel it, the hair on my neck would raise up and I couldn’t breathe. I could never slept up there. Supposedly the people who built the original house kept their special needs son up there.


My husband and I have both sited a man walking hurriedly, swinging his arms, dark brown hair, and he just suddenly disappears. Also a customer that I knew from where I work stopped one day and told me about seeing him just above us on the road. So there are 3 of us who has seen him, I have seen him twice, my husband once and not at the same time. Also about 3 months ago my husband was awakened in the middle of the night by a little girl singing in our dining room. He went to investigate but when he rounded a corner the singing stopped. Many years ago I was visited by a young spirit when I was upstairs cleaning. I just raised up from vacuuming and there she was, studying me. Dark shoulder length hair, noticeable blue eyes, dressed in blue. Then she disappeared. I later told an older friend of mine about it as she grew up here. By my description she thought it was her younger sister who passed from Bright’s disease here in the house. We are not afraid, nothing has been threatening.

So far.



My brother in law died suddenly on 1/7/1995. He was 46. On 1/21/95, I woke up in the morning and got up to go to the restroom and as I turned the corner there he stood. He looked alive and smelled like patchouli, the type of incense he used to burn. I asked him why he was there and he said my sister (his wife) would not talk to him. I said Rob, you passed away! He looked at me like I was crazy. Then my damn phone rang and he just kind of popped out. I was disturbed because he was trying to contact my sister and he didn’t know he was dead. I went to a tarot cars reader and she said we need to get him to the light because he is stuck. The dark side wants him because he was such a spiritual good guy. She told me to use a special oil that was made for his star sign, Libra, pour it on top of white candles and tell him to go to the light over and over. Then tell him my sister didn’t know he was trying to contact her, that she and his daughter love him and he now can go. We did that, and that very evening and we took three of his little cast iron airplanes he collected and pointed them to the candle. That was at 10pm. At 5:00 am my sister called me screaming and crying that the planes moved past the candle. He had gone to the light and used the planes to let us know. My sister told me she kept feeling him touching her shoulder and she was scared. She never felt that again.


I prefer to call it an angel. It wasn’t the worst of my wrecks but in college, 1996, I was driving to school and ran off the side of the road slightly, overcompensated and went off the opposite side of the road. I ended up rolling my car about three times and landed on the side of my car off the side of the road in a swampy, muddy area. It was over a bank so one couldn’t directly see me and my car from the road. It was before the days of cell phones in every car so I didn’t have one.

I remember everything very vividly, rolling and seeing the car crunch around me, putting my hands up to hold myself off the top of the car, and once I stopped, panicking that I couldn’t get out and thinking no one would see me and I’d be stuck in there. I was kicking and pushing the door in an attempt to get out but it wouldn’t open because it was pushing into the mud and the car was slightly still with the driver’s side down.

I then noticed a lady walking down from the road area. She had a long dress on and glasses, I think. I simply remember thinking that I hated she was going to get her dress all messed up. I yelled to her so she would know I was stuck in there and couldn’t get out. I remember I could just fit my hand out of the top of the door because that was the farthest that it would open.

She didn’t say a word that I remember, she just walked down to me and very simply moved the door. I remember thinking for a split second that it seemed unusually easy for her to open after I had been struggling and kicking to move it.

The next thing I remember I was standing on the road. At this time a car had pulled over and had one of those “bag cell phones” and offered to call the ambulance and asked who I needed to call. I called my daddy. BF came on the squad from Waverly, I think, and several people stopped in what seems like a few quick seconds before my dad arrived from Richmond Dale. The fire squad had arrived by then and a EMT kindly offered to get anything out of my car that I may have needed before they towed my car.

I told him I desperately needed a school project that was due that had been on my front passenger seat.
He went back and forth several times, getting pieces and parts, reports, poster boards, until he got everything. He brought the last thing up to me on the road and handed it to me. He was covered head to toe in thick, wet mud from the swamp my car was sitting in the middle of.

He looked at me confused and asked how I had managed to get out of there without any mud on me?
It was the first time it dawned on me. I looked down at my completely clean clothes, even down to my shoes that didn’t have even a small speck on mud on them.

At that time my dad asked how I got out of the car. I just replied that a woman in a long dress had helped me out. He asked me to identify her from the people at the scene and she was nowhere to be found . . .


My brother and I lived in an old house that was built in 1929. We were about 5 or 6 years old, maybe 6 and 7. Mom and Dad were downstairs watching TV in the living room. Aside from us four, our baby sister was sleeping in the nursery. I was in the lower bunk, my brother in the top, and by sitting up on your back you could see out into the hallway. If you entered the hallway from our bedroom, immediately to your right was the doorway to the bathroom. My brother and I were both looking out into the hallway when we saw a black, hunched over being pass in front of our room and into the restroom. Facial figures or arms and legs weren’t visible. It was just black. We were both a little freaked out, but thought it might have been our mom. We were old enough to not instantly think otherworldly. Not wanting to confirm it was our mom by entering the bathroom, we went downstairs and into the living room. That was almost freakier as both Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch downstairs. They obviously checked out the bathroom but found nothing. My brother and I can still describe the image the same way to this day. It was also in this same house that our dog had the horror movie classic scene of barking over my sister’s crib one afternoon. My mom rushed into the room to check and grab the baby as the dog continued to look at the ceiling above the baby’s crib. I am not making any of this up. I am a very logical person, but that house was haunted and there were obvious signs of spirits/ghosts.


As a kid we lived in in a house on Mountain Street in Bainbridge, Ohio. I guess at some point in time a fellow named Clyde Beatty had lived there. I learned later he’d been a world famous animal trainer. The house was built over a small graveyard. We had gotten this information from a fella named CD so we found it to be credible. But anyway needless to say there were numerous times seeing ghosts in that house. And not to mention a number of strange things that have happened during the time we lived there as well.


Ghost is such a relative term to me. I’ve seen such strange things- more like undeniable coincidences. Other times I write it off to active imagination. I just lost my Dad on a Thursday morning. I was sitting on Cleveland Avenue while getting a message that Mom and Mil were watching over me (both also passed away).That exact moment a white hearse coasts by my car with its blinkers on, but no procession. A few seconds later an identical white hearse passed by. Gave me the willies. I have tons of stories like that.


I have seen some things I can’t explain. I saw a perfect shadow of a person walking towards my car once. There was no one around or a near enough light source to create a shadow. Plus, as it walked through the shadow of my car, it didn’t disappear or become harder to see. It was unsettling to say the least.


I was staying with my Great Grandma and was staying in the room my uncle had died in 15+ years before. I got an overwhelming familiar smell, turned over to see a very large white blur in the corner and it looked just like my uncle.


When I first saw one I tried to rationalize what I was seeing, I thought it was my imagination. But the dog I had at the time confirmed it was real. The dog, who always slept on the floor on my side of the bed, was what woke me. She was scared, really scared. Then she crawled under the bed, which she never did. After the ghostly figure left she came out from under the bed but remained restless as I did as well, the rest of the night.


I know I’ve seen an Orb. When I was little we were staying at Grandma’s and sometime in the night I noticed something floating up the stairway and hover over the foot of the bed. When I focused on it, it went real fast back down the stairway. It reminded me of one of those large size soap bubbles.

Another time I was on night watch at school overnight so seniors wouldn’t prank. At around 2am I made my rounds through the school to check on things. Since it was graduation weekend all the chairs were set up in the gym and on the stage. The lights were on in the gym and on the stage . I decided to go up on the stage and I entered from the right side entry. As I walked onto the stage I saw a figure that appeared to be walking across the stage. It took three steps toward the podium then vanished. It was wearing what appeared to be a light blue or blue blazer. When I told this story to others, I was told that I saw the ghost of Jigger, out former principal who had passed away years earlier. I was told he wore a blue blazer.


Oh buddy you’re going to love this. It was one of my boyfriend’s and mine first few nights in our apartment and it was pretty late at night. He was fast asleep next to me and I was struggling to fall asleep. So it finally happened. I sleep really weird. I have to sleep with a pillow over my ears because it’s like a comfort thing? So anyway, I’m asleep and it’s like something decided to wake me up (at least I thought I was awake). It was almost like a blur, but someone was crouched down in front of me just staring at me. I then fell back asleep. It was almost like I acknowledged what was happening but was way too tired to care. Some time goes by and I’m in a new sleeping position and my eyes are closed but I am full on having a conversation in my head with this Victorian women. She was telling me how she hated what we did with the place “aka the apartment” and was mad at me. I just kept tossing and turning thinking I’m losing my mind. I finally fell asleep and told my boyfriend all about it the next morning. Needless to say we ended up using sage on the apartment and I’ve only had like one more weird experience after that but so far we’re still in the clear. So, yes I believe in ghosts.


I had a terrible time dealing with my granddad’s death and could not get through a day without crying. One night I was dreaming about him and I woke up feeling such a chill in the room and something touched my foot. I heard him saying “It’s okay Sissy” at the same time I saw him at the foot of my bed. I stopped crying after that night. I still tear up when I think about him but I don’t cry like I used to. He was my hero. I would love to sit and talk with him again.


I live in a old farm house, built in 1903. It has pretty stairs and servant stairs. I was cleaning in the front upstairs and heard with out a doubt footsteps coming up the stairs. I was skeptical, but nobody but me was home. Another time I kept hearing a girl’s voice saying “Mommy.” My daughter’s room was upstairs, but I couldn’t figure out why she’d be saying it. Mind you this is a big house, she coulda called or texted, so I hurriedly go to her room and she’s sitting on her bed on the laptop, headphones in and doing homework. She looked as surprised as I did. It wasn’t her. I later found out by talking to a gentleman that lived here in the 50’s that his young sister passed away in this house.

Another time I came home to find that my sweet sweet dogs had gotten into a whole bag of flour and my entire kitchen looked as if it has snowed. I’ll send a pic of one of their flour covered faces. Anyway, I had a little tantrum, threatened them with the pound and such, then the light in the kitchen went out. It’s a ceiling fan, you have to pull the string to turn it off. I calmed down, then the light came back on. I pulled the string a few times and it worked just fine. I’ve also felt cold spots and seen blurs. I’ve had things come up missing, like stuff you just don’t lose.


When I was in high school an old friend of mine and I drove out to Elizabeth’s grave (a famous local haunted spot) to smoke some pot. It was in the middle of the summer and hotter than hell. We had all the windows down. Middle of the day. About half way thru, we heard a couple of men talking and could hear their footsteps close by in the gravel. We both freaked and started the car the leave so we wouldn’t be caught. Looked all around, and there was no one. Not a soul in sight. We both doubted what we had heard and thought maybe we were imagining it, but that would be impossible to hear the same thing at the same time. We split. Now, I’ve never had any kind of pot cause hallucinations before, so it was either real or some really good pot. Have never been back since.


When we lived outside of Hillsboro my was 4-5 years old and he could never sleep in his room. He kept saying there were people in his room and they wouldn’t quit talking and let him sleep. After 3 years of this we moved back home to Bainbridge and found out after some research that we’d been living on an indian burial ground. It was the most eerie thing, hearing your child speak this way at such a young age.
So those are the stories I’ve received so far. If you have anything to add message me and I’ll update! Sleep well my friends . . .

May 8 (UPI) — A Chinese doctor shared video of the unusual cause of a patient’s ear discomfort — a spider building a nest inside his head.

The video filmed at a hospital in Yangzhou, Jiangsu province, shows the inside of an ear belonging to a patient identified by the surname Li.

Li came into the hospital complaining of discomfort in his ear and the doctor looked inside to discover a small spider was building a nest inside the man’s ear canal.

The doctor said the spider was too small and fast to be grabbed using tools, but hospital staff were able to use water to flush the arachnid out of the patient’s ear.

Not much to see here, just a freakin’ spider building a nest inside a man’s head. Next time you feel a little tingle in your old earhole don’t worry about it. It’s probably just a spider setting up shop in there. No biggie. Now excuse me while I go spray some Industrial Maximum Strength Raid in my ears.

PS- What the hell, man? Don’t they have Q-Tips in China?

I’m telling you right now, if I walked into that house and saw that scene I would pass out on the spot. That’s just horrific, man. Nightmare fuel. I told you about my fears in the acclaimed blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My! Oh, and Puppets and Rats Too, and let’s just say a staircase full of lifeless, cold eyes staring at me gives me the heebies. Chills, man.

PS-Swear to God when I first saw the photo I thought it was of one of those college sororities at Alabama or Clemson or somewhere.

Everyone can fly, just not very well.

Passengers on a Bali-bound AirAsia flight say they were left terrified after their plane suddenly lost cabin pressure and dropped 20,000 feet shortly after take-off.

The flight from Perth to Bali with 145-people on board was forced to turn back only 25 minutes after take-off on Sunday morning. Flight QZ535 passengers described how they were ordered to adopt the brace position and use their oxygen masks, with some saying they thought they would die during the ordeal.

A technical problem caused the aircraft to plunge from 32,000 feet to 10,000 feet without warning. Passenger Claire skew told 7 News the passengers were terrified.

Wait. Your plane dropped from 32,000-feet to 10,000-feet and you thought you would die? That’s shocking.  I usually don’t start to panic until the plane gets to around 1000-feet. Even then, I wait to around 500-feet before I put down my peanuts and drink to start looking for the exit door. Come on, people of AirAsia Flight QZ535, have some poise. Geez.

PS- If you think I’d ever get on an airline called AirAsia you’re out of your gourd.  They probably inspect the planes once every 10-years.

A fisherman has lived to tell the tale of how he ended up with a Great White Shark in the bottom of his boat.

Terry Selwood, 73, was fishing offshore at Evans Head on the New South Wales north coast when the shark launched itself into his boat.

“I caught a blur of something coming over the boat, and the pectoral fin of the shark hit me on the forearm and knocked me down on the ground to my hands and knees,” Mr Selwood said. “He came right over the top of the motor and then dropped onto the floor. There I was on all fours and he’s looking at me and I’m looking at him and then he started to do the dance around and shake and I couldn’t get away quick enough,” Mr Selwood said. “I was losing a fair amount of blood, I was stunned, I couldn’t register what happened and then I thought oh my God, I’ve got to get out of here.”

For such a close brush with a shark, Mr. Selwood came off relatively lightly. He was taken to hospital and treated for his injuries.

Despite his close encounter, Mr. Selwood said he was desperate to get back out to wet a line.

“It won’t deter me from fishing, no way in the world,” he said.

Terry Selwood, man. Dude was on all fours, looking a shark in the eye who had just leaped into his boat, and only then did it occur to him to get the hell out of there. Seriously though, we’re not safe in boats anymore? That was the safe refuge, man. Now the sharks are coming right into the boats like Jaws? Sweet Jesus. What’s next, Land Sharks?



The Clowns Are Coming

Posted: September 24, 2016 in Fears, Humor, Things I Hate

ABC News: Days after several reports of spooky clowns alarming residents in California, pranksters in similar costumes are popping up in other states.

Sgt. Tom Weger of the Fishers Police Department in Indiana thinks his town is dealing with a copycat.

Chills, man.

Chills, man.

“We have had over the past week three calls of a suspicious person dressed in a creepy clown outfit,” Weger told ABC News today. “We believe it’s just one individual dressing up as a clown and kind of creeping people out a bit.”

The reports come after similar sightings this month in Bakersfield, California, and the launch of social media accounts using the name “Wasco Clown,” showing a scary clown posing at different locations in Bakersfield and nearby cities.

Fishers, Indiana, isn’t alone in the new sightings, days before Halloween residents of Albuquerque, New Mexico, were recently spooked when a scary clown posed for a photo in front of a local restaurant and posted it on social media. But the clown, Tickles, told ABC affiliate KOAT-TV in Albuquerque that he didn’t mean any harm by the scary photo.

And clowns have also reportedly appeared in Jacksonville, Florida, popping up on security footage.

The World Clown Association says such spooky sightings are giving clowns a bad rap.

“People dressed as horror clowns are not ‘real clowns,'” president-elect Randy Christensen said. “They are taking something innocent and wholesome and perverting it to create fear in their audience.”


You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? The clowns are coming.

For years, clowns built up goodwill throughout the world, appearing at birthday parties, circuses and carnivals, making balloon animals and squirting people with whatever the hell comes out of that flower on their chest. Some even appeared on television under names like Bozo and Clarabell. We even had our own local clown, Flippo.



Flippo was nightmare fuel, man.

Famous actors even portrayed clowns. Respected men like Red Skelton and Soupy Sales had clown characters as a part of their act.

Clowns were everywhere, man. And now, this. The true nature of clowns is emerging.

A few of us have always known something was amiss. Something was missing behind the make-up and painted-on smiles.

Something awful lurked there.

Perhaps the trouble all started with Willard Scott, goofball weatherman for the Today Show. He was a clown, you know. Dude never seemed right.

Or maybe it was John Wayne Gacy, serial killer of at least 33 young boys in Chicago.

He buried the boys under his house. Part-time job? Clown.

And now the clowns are tired of pretending, weary of playing out the fraudulent pretense of being friendly, nose-honking fun-makers.

Yes, the clown’s true nature is emerging, and it is horrifying. The clowns ain’t playin’, man.

Soon, Ronald McDonald will be revealed as a poisoner of Big Macs, perhaps the murderer of Mayor McCheese.


Good God.

The Hamburglar will be found strangled in his sleep, with strands of bright red hair found at the scene.

Facts will be unearthed involving Bozo, the information unspeakable and abhorrent.

Yes, the true nature of clowns will soon be revealed to all, and it won’t be funny.

Note: I still can’t wrap my head around a World Clown Association. Just too terrible to contemplate.

Note 2: Say what you want, Tickles the Clown. I’m not buying it.

Note 3: Remember when I was threatened by an angry clown? That was pretty scary. Hope he doesn’t read this.

Note 4: I stupidly clicked on a “Clowns Near You” link while researching for this article, and while I was terrified the answer would be “right behind you”, this dude popped up. Calls himself Mr. Bugaboo. Sweet God Almighty.bugaboo

And so it continues. The clowns are getting more brazen, and Fleetwood clownManor is the latest to face evidence of the COMING CLOWN HORDE. Here’s the story:

GREENVILLE, S.C. — A note some Greenville County residents found on their apartment doors has them concerned for the safety of their neighborhood.

Residents at Fleetwood Manor Apartments on Fleetwood Drive reportedly received letters on Wednesday stating the property management has received complaints of a person dressed as a clown trying to “lure children into the woods.”

The letter, which appears to be printed on Fleetwood Manor Apartments letterhead, reminds the public children should never be alone or walking through the woods at night.

The property management in the letter indicates Greenville County law enforcement is conducting daily patrols of the property due to the reports. Below is the full text of the letter:


To The Residents of Fleetwood Manor

There have been several conversations and a lot of complaints to the office regarding a clown or a person dressed in clown clothing taking children or trying to lure children in the woods. First and foremost at Fleetwood Manor Apartments children’s safety is a top priority. At no time should a child be alone at night, or walking in the roads or wooded areas at night. Also, if a clown or clowns are seen you are to immediately call the police. Greenville County Police Department is aware of the situation and have been patrolling the property daily.

Thank you,

Property Manager

Donna Arnold, one of the people residing at the complex who received the letter, said she called the Greenville County Sheriff’s Office to come out to Fleetwood Manor after her son and others reported seeing clowns behind the basketball court.

“I thought my child was seeing things,” Arnold said. “And then the next day I had about 30 kids come up to me and say, ‘Did you see the clown in the woods?”

First off, are there any more chilling woods than “Did you see the clown in the woods?” That’s nightmare fuel, man. Secondly, one particular part of the letter confuses me. So what they’re searching for is either a “clown or a person dressed in clown clothing”? WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE MAN? Aren’t all clowns just people dressed in clown clothing? Or, no, please, say it isn’t true . . . there are actual living breathing humanoids that are simply clowns all the time?



Sweet Jesus. Nightmare fuel. Watch both videos for optimum scared shitlessness.*

*It’s those kinds of words that separate this website from all others. You’re welcome.


Insane. One gust of wind, man . . .






So this suicide-encouraging construction was built on the side of Tianmen Mountain in the Zhangjiajie National Forest Park. That’s in the Hunan province, but I’m sure you knew that. Anyhoo, this glass path is 4,700-feet above ground level, kids. I’m no scientist or mathematician but I’m pretty sure that’s high. I can imagine how the design team meeting went: “Hey, let’s build a walkway on the side of a mountain, say, about 4,700 feet high. That’ll be fun. And ooh! Let’s make it glass so people can look right through it!”

Seriously man, get this thing out of here. Be sure to check out the video below the photos.

[click terrifying photos to enlarge]





Not me but eerily similar.

My recollections regarding my horrifying hoodie in the backseat the other day got me to thinking about other heart-stopping moments I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Give a listen, kids . . .

Once I was on a plane returning from Vegas and we had to land in Minneapolis for a layover. I was looking out the window as we were landing, actually watching the landing strip lines flashing by, when at about 20-feet off the ground the pilot lurched the plane upward so violently the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, several people screamed, and most tragically I spilled my drink.

On a related note, I may have professed my love to a flight attendant and made a couple promises to God if he let me live, but that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, after we leveled off the pilot got on the intercom and told us a plane was on the runway that wasn’t supposed to be there and he had to pull up to avoid a crash. My friend, who hated flying anyway, actually tipped the pilot as we exited the plane. Oh yes he did.

Anyway, scary.

Years ago I had been visiting a friend down in Waverly and was returning home around 2:00am. I recall it was a really foggy night, and as I came up Blaine Highway I stopped at the intersection of Blain and Route 50. Keep in mind I was in a cloth-top Jeep CJ-5 at the time.

I stopped briefly at the stop sign, but before I could pull onto Route 50 the passenger side door of my jeep flew open and a man jumped into my jeep.

Talk about a heart-stopper. Foggy, 2:00am, man jumps in jeep with me. Sweet Mother of God.

After jamming my heart back down my throat and making sure I hadn’t wet my pants, I screamed something along the lines of . . .


Well, it took me about 3-seconds to ascertain that this jackass was drunk as a skunk, and from what he told me his friends had stopped and threw him out of their car for reasons that would soon become clear to me – the dude was a bad, bad, drunk.

He demanded that I take him to Chillicothe, which sadly for him was in the opposite direction of my destination. I told him this, but in his drunken state he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At this juncture my fear had turned to anger, so I had no choice but to turn off the jeep, walk around to the passenger side, and jerk drunk boy out of his seat and onto the road. I gave him a good shove, and the last I saw of him he was staggering off into the fog and parts unknown.

I half expected him to reappear in front of the jeep, and if he had I’m 100% 50% sure I would have run over him and continued home.

Anyway, if you’ve never been on a 2-lane country road on a foggy night at 2:00am, had your car door jerked open and a guy hop into the passenger seat, well, you haven’t lived.

Not recommended though. Damn, that scared me.

This daughter and father’s ensemble. Jeebus.


Someone in the Backseat

Posted: October 30, 2015 in Fears, Mystery

I’ve never been more scared than I was that night.HoodedFigure_zps55364230

I’d been out with a girl I was dating from Bainbridge. I left her place around 1:00 AM, and as I drove east by Jones Levee Road something made me look out the window to my right. I immediately looked back ahead, but I’d seen something out of the corner of my eye.

Somebody was sitting in my backseat.

Yep, as I’d glanced out the passenger side window I distinctly saw somebody out of the corner of my eye, silently sitting there.

It’s sort of a primal fear, isn’t it? Somebody behind you?

He must have snuck into my car when I was at my girlfriend’s house.

Was it a former boyfriend of hers? A former flame of mine? Random mugger? Serial killer? The Grim Reaper?

Whoever it was, sitting silently there in the backseat, surely had evil intentions.

I cautiously took a peek in my rearview mirror, hoping to do so without letting my unwanted guest know I was suspicious. Hell, maybe my eyes had played a trick on me.

No such luck. There, just barely, I could see a shoulder and a part of a hoodie. Where the face should be was shrouded in darkness.

The radio was off. I strained to hear breathing, anything, from the backseat.

Nothing. The only breathing I heard was mine.

My mind was reeling. What to do? Slam the brakes and hope to send the intruder through the windshield? Do maniacal killers wear seatbelts? Do I get home, pull in my driveway and make a run for it? Start talking, tell him I know he’s back there? Screech like a 9-year old?

I’m joking now but trust me, at the time I was scared out of my gourd.

I decided to drive home, hit the brakes, open the door and jump out. Only then would I turn and face my adversary.

The drive from Jones Levee to my house took only a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. It’s funny how time crawls when you’re expecting an axe to the back of your skull at any moment.

Somehow, as I pulled in my driveway the garage didn’t seem like a good idea. Something about a closed-in space didn’t appeal to me at that particular moment. You know, not enough room to run fight. I opted to forego the garage and park outside.

I turned onto my street, hoping desperately some of my friends had decided to pay me a late night visit. No dice. My house was dark.

Thus, my moment had come. I pulled slowly into the driveway, expecting the worst. There was no going back now. It was time to face whoever, or whatever, was behind me.

After a deep breath I hit the brakes, slammed the car into park, threw open the door, jumped out, and turned to face the terror that awaited.

Curiously, my backdoor stayed shut. Through the tinted window, though, I could see the silhouette of the hoodie wearing intruder, unmoving. It may seem odd but the fact that he was still made him immensely more frightening.

Fighting the urge to make a run for it, I jerked open the rear car door. And there, right before my eyes, was . . .

My parka.

Sitting upright on my backseat.

With its hood laying against the headrest.

Where I’d tossed it before leaving Bainbridge.

It lay there with, apparently, no intention of strangling the life out of me.

To this day I always double-check the backseat before getting into my car, especially after dark.

You know, in case a men’s XXL North Face down jacket is lurking there.

Because I have a couple. I came across this information on the worldwide phobiainterweb the other day and found it fascinating. Let’s get right into it . . .

Agyrophobia: Fear of Crossing the Street

  • I have absolutely zero fear of crossing a street. Show me a street and I shall cross it. Except this one:

Mageirocophobia: Fear of Cooking

  • I have no fear of cooking, but I can’t cook much. My culinary skills are limited to hot dogs and whatever I can put into a microwave or my beloved toaster oven. Why would be afraid to cook? Getting burned? Chopping off an appendage? I’m confused.

Pediophobia: Fear of Dolls

  • Hell yes I’m afraid of dolls. Always have been. I wrote about it in my critically acclaimed and world renowned blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My! that has since been used in college classrooms across the globe. Well, not really, but I’m still afraid of dolls. Too bad the name for my phobia sounds like it’s related to child molesting or something. Geesh.

Deipnophobia: Fear of Dinner Conversation

  • I sort of have this one, and it may date back to my childhood and some pretty awkward dinners. And you know those parties or weddings where they assign seats at the tables? Hate ’em. Absolutely hate ’em. Nothing worse than forced conversation, in my opinion. I despise small talk and have been known to pretend I’m on my cell phone when I see someone I know in the supermarket. In related news, I’m a horrible human being.

Eisoptrophobia: Fear of Mirrors

  • I have no issue with mirrors, but I think I know why people do. There have been way too many  movies in which somebody shuts a bathroom mirror and there’s the reflection of a serial killer over their shoulder.

Demonophobia: Fear of Demons

  • Question – Who’s not afraid of a demon? It’s a damn demon, man. Good Lord. On a related note, every time I hear the word demon I think of a story a friend once told me. His grandma was old and suffering from dementia and hallucinations, and he’d visit her often. Occasionally during conversation she’d stop, look over his shoulder and up into the corner of the ceiling and say, “Shhhh . . . don’t move. The demon is up there, watching.” My friend said that it never failed to give him chills.

Pentheraphobia: Fear of Mother-in-Law

  • I’ve only had one Mother-in-Law in my life (my second wife’s mom had unfortunately passed away earlier) but I must say I had zero fear of her. She was the salt of the earth. On a related note, does anyone know what that means?

Arachibutyrophobia: Fear of Peanut Butter

  • Oh, for God’s sake. Like it’s going to stick to the roof of your mouth and kill you or something? This reminds me of that woman on The Maury Show who was supposedly afraid of pickles. That had to be a scam. Nobody’s afraid of pickles. Kumquats maybe. Pickles? Never.

Cathisophobia: Fear of Sitting

  • I don’t fear sitting, but I hate to sit for long periods of time. For instance, I love flying but I have to get up a lot, much to the consternation of the people in my row. I do have a fear of people coming up behind me when I sit, and for this reason I always had my desk in a corner where my students couldn’t get behind me. My buddy JR once told me I must have been strangled from behind in a past life.

Automatonophobia: Fear of a Ventriloquist’s Dummy

  • I’m not afraid of ventriloquist’s dummies. I’m terrified of ventriloquist’s dummies. Didn’t you read my critically acclaimed and world renowned blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My!? Come on, man. Click on the links.

So, what say you? Do you suffer from any of these or other phobias? C’mon, it’s just between us and a couple hundred thousand Shoe: Untied followers.

Spill your guts, people!

Hey, we all have our fears, right? I saw a woman on Maury Povich that was deathly afraid of pickles, although I think she may have been an actress and Maury was just havin’ some fun with us. In any event, the Top 10 Fears of the general public, according to surveys, are as follows:


What? I’d love to be able to fly. I’d just soar to the beach like a boss, landing on mountaintops and stuff on the way. Why should we be scared of  . . . oh, you mean in airplanes? Never mind. That can be scary as hell at times, although flying is really one of my favorite things to do.


Never got this one at all. I actually enjoy public speaking. Not sure if my public enjoys me speaking though.


Yeah, not crazy about heights either. I get all dizzy and whatnot. My trip to the top of Empire State building in 1989 did not go well, and is still spoken of in hushed tones by those in attendance. On a related note, Hitchcock’s “Vertigo” was a helluva movie.


O-o-o-o-h, THE DARK. What ‘s so scary about the dark? I’m a night owl, always have been. Something about the cover of darkness that appeals to me. Not sure I wanna know what that says about me though. In addition, I promise I’m not a window peeper or a serial killer or anything. I just love the night. To me, the ultimate date would include a 2:00 a.m. walk on the beach.


Wait. What? Who doesn’t like intimacy? I’m all about the intimacy. I do not get it. I’m flummoxed, befuddled, bewildered, stupefied, dumbfounded and confused.*

* is a wonderful tool.


I mean, nobody wants to die, but I don’t really think about dying that much. On the other hand, I’ve written two blogs about dying over the past year. Disregard. This does remind me of an interesting occurrence though. Once, while teaching a writing class, I asked a group of 8th graders to write about what it would be like to live forever. To my surprise nearly all of them wrote that it would be a horrible curse to never die. I found that to be extremely interesting and somewhat telling.


I don’t think I’ve ever felt afraid of failing. Not sure why, because Lord knows I’m damn good at it.


Tough one here. Sure, nobody likes to be rejected but I don’t really fear it. I’ve never not taken the leap of faith for fear of being rejected. That’s no way to live, is it?


Nah, not afraid of spiders at all. Spiders are cool. If I find one in the house I sometimes take it outside and release it into the wild. Spiders do great things for us dumb humans, don’tcha know?


Oh God. S-o-o-o-o, how about those Bengals, huh? I think we can go places if Andy Dalton gains some consistency. And we always have Ohio State, amirite? O-H!!

With these in mind I thought I’d discuss some of my own fears. They say it’s good for the soul to talk about it, and Lord knows my soul could use some cleansing. So, here we go. By the way, you may notice a trend. Drumroll please . . .


Hate ‘em, always have. They’re frightening looking and they’re not funny. I always wonder what’s lurking under all that make-up. It didn’t help when I found out that notorious serial killer John Wayne Gacey worked as a party clown in his spare time, just humoring and entertaining the kiddies. You know, right before the dismembering and stuff. And Ronald McDonald? Nightmarish.

I’ve seen this guy. In my dreams.


Just chilling.

I just got chills typing that. They watch you when you walk by, you know that, right? I mean they actually turn their heads. Anyway, years ago I had a date with a girl who worked in the Macy’s perfume department at a mall in Columbus. I was supposed to pick her up after store hours. The plan was for her to leave the front door unlocked at a predetermined time and I’d mosey on in to get her. Great plan, except not really. I walked into a bad dream. The only lights on were those emergency kind way back and high on the walls, creating a sort of shadowy effect throughout the store. The mannequins were all dark silhouettes, and I swear one reached out and tried to grab me as I walked briskly by. OK, I was running like a 12-year old girl chasing Bieber’s limo. Anyway, once I found my date I was fine, if you don’t count the profuse sweating, hyperventilating and shaking. And not once did she ask why I kept looking over my shoulder on the way out.


She’s looking at YOU.

I grew up with two older sisters and their dolls were horrifying. Especially the older ones with the porcelain faces who would just cold stare at you like a demon from the underworld. Jeepers. And the talking dolls? Sweet Mother of God they were scary. Now that I think of it, this may all stem from that old Twilight Zone episode called “Talking Tina” where the doll ended up killing that dude. I watched it and was obviously scarred for life. It’s weird, but the “Chuckie” movies never bothered me at all, they actually seemed funny to me. It’s the regular dolls that are the worst. The kind that watch you walk across the room.


Gotta little Sandusky in him, no?

Not the little hand puppets, but the big ones that sit on the ventriloquist’s knee while he controls them with his hand up their ass. Just chilling to look at. I also hate the puppet’s that are controlled by strings. Something about their jerky movements and, again, those lifeless eyes. Just pure terror. And Howdy Doody? Creepy.

5. RATS.


I know what you’re thinking. This guy had a gerbil he loved, what’s up? Well, all I can say is gerbils and mice are way different than rats. Hell, I have no problem with snakes or bats either. Got bit by a bat once, but that’s for another story. Rats though? Not so much. Maybe it goes back to my childhood when I went out to feed our pony one morning before school. I popped the top of the 50-gallon drum full of oats and reached in to grab what I thought was the scoop to fill Thunder’s feed bin. Wrong. I grabbed a big ol’ rat. It made some hellish screeching noise and leaped about 37-feet straight up, trying to bite my nose off on its ascent. Well, it seemed like 37-feet. Maybe it was 3? Anyway, I nearly wet my pants so maybe that’s where my fear of rats began. If it wasn’t then it certainly would have began years later when I was coaching high school hoops. Back then I had to walk from my office way down by the gym all the way up to the high school office in order to call in my stats  and interviews to the newspaper and radio. Anyway, after making my calls I was heading back down the long hallway, just minding my own business. Suddenly and without warning, a giant rat comes flying around a corner, just hurtling toward me full throttle. That in itself would have been nightmare inducing enough, right? But n-o-o-o-o, there’s more. This rat was jacked up, man. Methinks it had been in the rat poison because this rat wasn’t right. It was bouncing off the walls, rolling over occasionally while every once in awhile standing up on its back feet, wobbling unsteadily. And oh yeah, it was making a noise that sounded as if it emanated from the depths of hell. At that point I froze for a second, then turned and headed for the front exit before this beast leaped up, ripped a vein out of my neck and killed me. Sorry for the dramatics but I was traumatized. Still am. Hence the fear of rats.

So there ya go. I know, I have issues. Still, I opened my soul to you, my innermost fears laid bare for the masses. I know that you, too, have some things you’re afraid of, and here’s your chance to let it all out in the comments section. Let’s do this!

Oh, I also fear being made fun of, so take it easy on me.

I just looked at my reflection in the mirror. It blinked.

Bonus pic:


I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.

Bonus pic:



My sister says that mommy killed her. Mommy says that I don’t have a sister.

Bonus freaky pic:



Ever have one of those dreams that make you scream and sit bolt upright in a cold sweat? One of those dreams where you’re not 100% certain it didn’t actually happen?

Yeah, me too. Just the other night. Jeebus.

In my dream I’d just taken a shower and as I sometimes do I went to my basement door to toss the towel down the steps, where I’d grab it later and put it into a pile to wash. It was late at night and I opened the door, tossed the towel down the pitch-black steps, shut the door, and started to walk away.

But . . .

As I did that I realized something wasn’t right. I hadn’t heard the towel hit the floor at the bottom of the steps. There was an eerie silence instead, just before I’d closed the basement door.

Something told me to go back and check.

In my dream I hesitantly walked back and opened the door, but of course it was black as night. Then I reached in and turned on the basement light . . .

And there, about halfway down the stairs, was my towel, hanging in the air, clearly over a human form.

With no legs underneath it.

At that point the screaming and sitting bolt upright thing occurred, and I laid back down and attempted to slow my heart rate a few beats. Sparky, of course, was standing on my chest, licking my face and trying to calm me down.

The dream was so real though, damn it, that I just couldn’t go back to sleep.

I had to go check. I had to.

Then I actually went to the basement door, opened it, flipped on the light switch quickly, and took a look. You know, to make sure a towel wasn’t laying halfway down the steps or maybe hovering in the air over some unseen creature from the netherworld.

All the while, my main protector Spark was beside me, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.

Of course, nothing.

Still, even with Spark snuggled up beside me it took me a long time to fall back asleep.

Dreams, man.

And I just know I’ll hesitate before I thrown a damn towel down those steps again.



A numbers cruncher at a Manhattan ad firm suddenly decided that the office mannequins were out for his blood — so he jumped to his death from a fourth-floor window to escape their wrath, sources told The Post on Thursday.

“They’re after me! They’re after me!” David Caquais, 43, shouted while frantically pointing at the dummies in the Garment District offices of Catch NY around 9 p.m. Jan. 2.

“This guy’s running around . . . he’s kicking the window panes. He’s using his fists, his elbows, trying to get one window pane open,” said a worker at Avalon hotel across the street.

“He’s yelling all kinds of things . . . He goes to a fourth window, and that’s when he gets enough room to get his body through . . . and he jumps,” the witness said.

Caquais’ funeral was Thursday at Our Lady Help of Christians R.C. Church.

And so it begins.

Listen, you may call this guy crazy but I don’t doubt him for second. You’ve all read about my fear of mannequins in the blog Mannequins and Clowns and Dolls, Oh My! so I get it. Hey, I’ve had mannequins watch me walk across a store before, just waiting to pounce. I feel ya, David Caquais. I really do.

PS – Is it me or does this sound like a 2015 version of a Twilight Zone episode? Freaky, man.

Somebody walked into this abandoned warehouse in Baltimore and stood face-to-face with hell on earth. The structure stretches over 4-acres and contains over 100-million spiders. I believe this place needs to be torched immediately, nuked from space or napalmed into oblivion, but that’s just me. You know, because it contains over 100-million spiders.

Random thought. Who counted the spiders?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Best Fails of October!

Posted: November 5, 2014 in Fears, Humor

Let’s revel in other people’s misery.

I’ve always been a fan of the horror genre, hence my love of The Walking Dead and stuff like that. And since it’s Halloween I thought it would be appropriate to list my 20 All-Time Favorite Horror Movies. You know, just for you.

Night of the Living Dead (1968)

The opening scene to this movie simply mortified me. I believe this movie was one of the first, if not the first, that used the word zombies. Here’s that opening scene . . .

Cloverfield (2008)

In my opinion, this was a very underrated movie. My favorite scene is when we finally get an up close look at the monster, right before he murders a dude. Love it.

The Fly (1958)

The last scene of this movie absolutely knocked me off my feet as a kid. For the whole movie we’ve seen the guy with the fly head, never thinking that their might be another being with a fly body. Then this happens . . .

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)

My family used to take trips to Florida, and I always thought of this scene when we’d pass a river or creek.

The Mothman Prophecies (2002)

LOVED this movie. And the scene where Richard Gere gets the phone call scared the bejesus out of me. Freaky.

Friday the 13th (1980)

Forget the hideous sequels, the original was stellar.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

There’s something about this scene when Donald Sutherland screams that is very unsettling to me.

The Exorcist (1973)

If this scene didn’t creep you out you have no soul.

When a Stranger Calls (1979)

Yep. He’s in the house.

Psycho (1960)

Of course. It has to be the famous shower scene.

The Shining (1980)

From the whole movie, one and only one scene stands out, and it’s not Nicholson’s “Here’s Johnny!”

It’s this chilling scene . . .

The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1979)

This may be the most little known scary as hell movie in history. Even the trailer is spooky. Forget the awful remake from a few years ago, the 1976 original was chilling.

Alien (1979)

Even though you know what’s coming, it’s still hard to watch . . .

Pet Sematary (1979)

This is very difficult to watch. Seriously. Parents with small children should probably move along to the next movie.

The Omen (1976)

You know why you don’t know many people named Damien today? Because of this movie.

Carrie (1976)

There is no way the new version will be as good as the original. No. Way. Here’s the climactic prom scene.

Halloween (1978)

Maybe the best horror film of all-time. Absolutely terrifying.

It (1990)

Evil clown. ‘Nuff said. I swear I can barely watch this scene . . .

Dawn of the Dead (2004)

Just a freakily good beginning.

Salem’s Lot (1979)

I literally had nightmares about this scene. Not even kidding.

Sweet dreams everyone!

Imagine this thing looking you square in the eye when you were 7-years old. Chilling.

Note: You gotta admit I’m good with the catchy titles, huh? Seriously, I’ve been writing attention grabbers like a boss.

This story took place when I was a kid, I guessing I was about 15-years old 7-years old. I was at the zoo with my family, and it was supposed to be an All-American summer day with Mom, Pops, and the sisters. By the way, my sisters? Mean as junkyard dogs to me. They just treated me brutally throughout my childhood, picking on me often and repeatedly. Keep in mind they are a little older than me, and by a little I mean a lot.

Here I was, basically the perfect kid and treated as such by my saint of a mother, and yet I was forced to put up with the evil shenanigans of those two. Did I mention they are much older than me? Anywho, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were behind this yarn I’m about to spin in some manner, either by telling me to look elsewhere while they ran away or telling me there were free Cheez-Its around the corner and then bolting from the immediate area.

Long story short I got lost. Separated from my family unit. I’m lost at the zoo, man, not a great place for a kid to be lost, and Jack Hannah was nowhere in sight. I remember being a little afraid at first, then the fear turned to full-out panic:




At this point I’m sure my sisters were probably watching from behind the Lion Pit, grinning maniacally and hoping I’d wander in there and become the King of the Jungle’s brunch. I didn’t, thank God, and just decided to start walking and yelling “MOM!” from time-to-time. I mean, they’ll miss me sooner or later, right?


Eventually I came to this little sidewalk that cut through some trees, and in my infinite 7-year old wisdom I took it. I was sort of half-jogging down this sidewalk when it happened. I suddenly came face-to-face with an enormous 7-foot peacock. OK, it was probably 4-feet tall but I was about 3 1/2 feet tall so to me it was a monster.

I froze.

He froze.

And then it happened. His tail feathers arched open and he made a charge at me like a fat kid towards a bag of Funyuns. It was an absolutely horrific sight.

At that point I did what any reasonably intelligent 2nd grader would do – I ran like hell. Seriously, just scampered out of there like a rabbit on crack. Problem was, the peacock was pretty good at scampering as well.

Random thought: If I ever start a band I’m naming it The Scampering Peacocks. But back to the story.

The peacock was right on my ass, just burnin’ rubber trying to get at me. I glanced over my shoulder and the news was not good – he was gaining on me. Right about then I had a horrifying thought – can peacocks fly? I envisioned this winged beast piercing its talons right in the back of my neck, picking me up and flying me off to peacock parts unknown to be eaten at his leisure.

But, that didn’t happen.

Instead, it caught me and ripped me to shreds pecked me on the back of my legs. I turned and tried to connect with a roundhouse kick but the demon bird was quick on its feet, deftly hopping out of the way. From that point on, though, he followed me from a distance of about 5-feet, which in some ways was freakier than being attacked by this predator from hell. He was stalking me, waiting for me to make a mistake so he could swoop in, rip a vein out of my neck and kill me.

In the end I was saved by a heroic zoo worker, a superhuman immortal who faced the monster head-on and ran it off. OK, it was an 83-year old female volunteer but she was a hero to me. Before vamoosing though, the behemoth fowl stopped to give me one last look, like, “This isn’t over little one. We shall meet again.”

The same lady actually helped me find my family and told them the story, so of course I had to endure years of ridicule from my aforementioned much older evil siblings. In addition, the whole ghastly experience led to a life-long aversion to peacocks.

Sad story. Sad indeed.buytrew34

Oh, and to this day I don’t watch NBC unless absolutely necessary.

Note: Some parts of this story were exaggerated to enhance the experience. It’s called creative license. What I’m trying to say is I love my sisters. They weren’t quite that mean to me. I, on the other hand, just might have been a slightly less than perfect little brother. Sorry Sis and Sid.

Note 2- Man, I wish Sparky had been around back then.

I have to get one of these.

%d bloggers like this: