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This is a question Helicopter Parents

Back when young ScaryDuck worked in the Dole office rather than simply queuing in it, he had to deal with a claimant brought in by his mum. She did all the talking. He was 40 years old.

Have you had to deal with over-protective parents? Get your Dad to tell us all about it.

(, Thu 10 Sep 2009, 15:13)
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When I was just a kid...
there was a bizarre entity that regularly passed through our house. I'm not superstitious or religious. I've tried to rationalize it to this day, so any logical explanation would be welcome, though I've heard many and none can account for this completely.

My dad has always been a workaholic, so it came as no surprise that he would often invite colleagues home to conduct business after work. Though we live in the States the company is largely European, so I was also quite used to meeting men who didn't speak much English. They'd stay until the wee hours talking work and sports, and always remembered to say goodnight to my brother and I. It was like a big extended family, and they were all quite friendly...apart from one man.

The Spanish-speaking man.

Everyone had assumed he was another work colleague, but Dad had no idea who we were talking about. It did strike me as odd that I'd seen him roaming the upstairs hall in the dead of night, then gone down to find him in the kitchen staring out the window longingly. This continued for years, at least once a month I'd see him.

I never thought he was a ghost, as he'd clearly interact with things and respond with ¡déjeme en paz! when I'd talk to him. Everyone had apparently seen him except my dad, though no one seemed to react as strongly as I felt they should.

"For God's sake, there might be a crazy vagrant loose in our house! You've seen him yourself!"

"He's harmless," they'd say.


I started thinking I was crazy. My strongest theory was that I'd been suffering from hallucinations and my family had simply been playing along for fear of upsetting me. But I didn't speak Spanish, how could I hallucinate it?!

One night, the man changed into something else.

He came to be called Epanta. I'm uncertain from whence this name originated, though it resonated through my brain in his presence. He became impossible to look at, unfathomable, like trying to focus inside a dream only to find things becoming more vague - like an outline of a creature, an impression of presence with no form. I caught only glimpses of him from that point on. His voice had become shrill and electronic, as if being run through a high-pass filter. He became everything a ghost should be.

What the hell was wrong with me? The others had stopped seeing him. They'd say he was sick, unhealthy...or was it myself?

I felt betrayed. My family had disregarded the vision with infuriating indifference toward my rapidly waning mental stability, and Epanta no longer responded, no longer sang his Spanish tune by the fireplace. It hadn't occurred to me earlier, but I loved him like an old friend.

A foul combination of bitterness and fear welled up inside me as I trudged down the stairs one night in late December, ready to confront the being.

"¡Epanta! ¿¡Por qué no hablas más!?"

"Niño, niño, niño...Soy débil, y... y voy al cielo ahora. Lo siento, niño."

I started crying. I was angry. My mother descended the stairs to find me hitting the stones above the fireplace. Somehow I'd ended up with hand-shaped bruises on my arms and a broken nose.

"What happened?!" she screamed.

"Nothing, it was one little fight."

But my mom got scared. She said, "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air."

I whistled for a cab, but when it came near the license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror. If anything, I could say this cab was rare and I thought - nah forget it - yo homes, to Bel Air!

shameless copypasta- click "I like this!" if you hate it.
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 10:02, 7 replies)

It's 'me and my brother' not 'my brother and I'. I is a subject not an object.
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 11:06, closed)
An easy way to remember it Geeebon is to take out the extra words like "say good night to" and see how the sentence looks.

You wouldn't say "me went to the zoo", therefore you do not say "my brother and me went to the zoo".

Similarly, you would not say "they came to the zoo with I" so you would not say "they came to the zoo with my brother and I".
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 11:27, closed)
It's "Yo, Holmes". For years and years I assumed the salutation was "homes", short for "home boy", but after watching The Wire with subtitles and thinking it was strange how the captioners kept making a mistake, I did my own research, and apparently "Holmes" is a common nickname among African-Americans, referring to a Mr John Holmes who starred in many pornographic motion pictures.

That's all, carry on.
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 13:06, closed)
Am I the only one confused
I understood the Fresh Prince reference at the end, but the rest?
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 11:53, closed)
it's meant to be an anti-climax (ooer)
he's talking about a supposed ghost story but it turns out to be FRESH
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 12:38, closed)
This is the cancer that is killing /b/3ta

(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 13:16, closed)
Detroit has a cancer.
(, Fri 11 Sep 2009, 16:09, closed)

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