of ghosts and stuff

After my landlord stole my denim bra, I was house hunting again. I found a beautiful apartment on the ground floor of a small building that had been converted into a number of small, one bedroom apartments. It was perfect, but people warned me against moving in, because a girl had been murdered in that house. They said it was haunted.

I didn’t really believe them, because:

A. I didn’t want to, and

B. I didn’t want to

(Seriously, ghosts and stuff belong only in the DeadMau5 universe.)

Soon after I moved in, I started feeling like something about the house was wrong. I sought solace in wine and feverish lovemaking with Mister at first, but then the noises became too much and I had to start paying attention to them.

Mister suggested I keep a diary of all paranormal activity – though in my case there were only noises that seemed to come from within the walls. I did.  Continue reading of ghosts and stuff

of how I survived two murder attempts in one night

This may come as a shock to you, but one of my closest friends tried to murder me twice in the same night. I thought this was yet another story I would end up taking to my grave, but after what I’ve been through the past few days, I don’t see how I can be quiet about this anymore.

It started as a party at Booyarang’s house, with Giggles and Fartsypants and Mister and one of my other friends you don’t know, whom I lovingly call the Sloth from Ice Age. We were up all night singing Deeply Dippy and Time of My Life; living, laughing, loving every moment of the debauchery. And before I knew it, my face was on fire. It’s amazing how your life can change within seconds.

Here’s what happened that night. Continue reading of how I survived two murder attempts in one night

of how things look

You’re no longer listening to the long-lost friend you’re meeting today. You’re, instead, looking at her.

Unlike many other lone inhabitants of coffee shops, she’s not reading or pretending to read while she waits for someone. She’s not fidgeting with her phone either. She’s just sitting by the window, looking outside, sipping coffee from her cup, enjoying it almost as though it were her last.

You have never seen a sight so rare. You can’t stop staring. Continue reading of how things look