my father's a right git
He used to freak me out when I was a kid, claiming that my bedroom, his old room incidentally, was haunted by the ghost of his granddad. Stories of how the elderly man would walk through the closet and smile at him put the shits right up me and gave me nightmares for years. Turns out his granddad lived and died in Cornwall and unless the bastard was of nimble foot (and owned a ghostly boat) he probably couldn't make it over to Wales in time to do that crap.

A few years later I started to hear voices. While on the computer late at night a sinister hissing would reverberate through the room, usually followed by a few unintelligible words. Now that really scared me. I almost went to the doctors and asked him if I might in fact be suffering some mental disorder, the voices were that real. I figured it out one Sunday afternoon, leaving the computer idling I sat on the window sill and had a smoke. The hissing and voices came as they did before...
Instead of panicking this time I went into detective mode. And in true Ghostbusters fashion I realised that my computer speakers, fucked up things that they are were actually picking up taxi radios. Every time a taxi would pass by my house and the walkie talkie thing would go off, my speakers would get a transmission.

Months of mental anguish wasted.
(Suddenly, zebras Safe and sound for eternity, Tue 25 Apr 2006, 19:13, Reply)