Was on a ghost tour
in a supposedly haunted house in Wales. A few of us went, and smoked a few spliffs on the way there, so when it started, we weren't taking it that seriously. We wandered round for the house for a while and came to a room with a gap in the wall to another room which had a massive fireplace (with no fire). My mate said stay here and watch this. He went into the other room and climbed up the chimney of the fireplace, far enough so you couldn't see his legs. There were others wandering round the house and he started dropping little stone chippings into the hearth. More and more people gathered round, including the guy who was running the tour, whispering 'Shh.. can you hear that' etc. At which point my mate jumped straight down and shouted 'Boo' at the top of his voice, as eight or nine people shat themselves.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 15:42, Reply)

I Ching Pearoast
I've always loved this story, although the last time I told it here it turned into a long argument about probability. Anyway:

My (now late) mum was a bit of a sucker for the supernatural (whereas I'm a full-on scientific atheist type). When trying to decide on things to do, she used to do the I Ching. One day she had a dilemma, and decided to throw the yarrow stalks or whatever you do.

The answer she received seemed fairly meaningless, so after much deliberation, she gave up and tried it again. She was rather freaked out to get exactly the same hexagram (which is pretty unlikely in itself). Bewildered, she threw it again. This time the result was this:

YOUTHFUL FOLLY has success.
It is not I who seek the young fool;
The young fool seeks me.
At the first oracle I inform him.
If he asks two or three times, it is importunity.
If he importunes, I give him no information.
Perseverance furthers.

That was the last time she consulted the I Ching.
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 15:22, Reply)

Floorboard TERROR
My dad was working alone upstairs one evening in our old house. His study was upstairs in what is a relativly large victorian semi detached house. While he was working, he heard the floorboards outside on the landing creak as if someone was walking down to his study. Now, knowing he was alone - my mum was out - this made him a 'little apprehensive'.

He checked the landing and made his way downstairs to check the rest of the house to make sure no one had decided to burglarize us. Sure that he was still alone, he attempted to rationalise the creaking floorboards by attributing them to wind, or 'house settling'. This done, he settled back down to his work.

A few minutes later, he heard the creaking again - he said he literally felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. After summoning the courage to look a second time due to him being pretty freaked out, he moved to the door to check the landing and as he did so, two things happened.

The creaking 'walked' up to his study - and he suddenly realised what had been causing the noise.

The other house of the semi detached building was a mirror image of ours - thier upstairs landing was the other side of the wall. The victorian builders had built it on one go, boarding both landings at once and putting the partition wall over the top. The creaking was our next door neighbour walking down thier landing, making our boards creak.

My Dad, freaked outness ebbing, got back to work.

Of course if Derek Acorah were there, it would be the restless souls of the dead rather than victorian chippies causing parasupernormal happenings.
(magictorch, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 15:18, 2 replies)

I quite like pop-punk boy-bands.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 15:08, Reply)

im hung like ben dover
boasting makes me feel goo..

i'll get my coat.
(magictorch, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:57, Reply)

I once saw something that I couldn't explain
...
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:55, Reply)

Right, time for a Jessie story
I've posted this before... not too long after Jess died, her mum came to see me one Sunday afternoon, and brought with her a little bag of Jess' ashes for me. They were in a plastic bag, tied at the top, which she'd then placed inside a little velveteen pouch type thing.

I had to go out as soon as she left, so I put the ashes on the side, and left the house. When I came home, I wanted to see what they looked like so I took the plastic bag out of the pouch and untied it.

As soon as I untied the plastic bag, my dog started barking. That in itself is unusual as he hardly ever barks; and if he does it's once, for instance to let me know he wants to be let out. This though was continuous, and his eyes were locked on the bag of ashes. As soon as I tied them up and put them away, he stopped and returned to acting normally.

As I've suggested below, maybe he was picking up on something from me; it was still a strange experience though.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:26, Reply)

When you think about it...
...there are so many things we don't know about the world, that it's not surprising people jump to paranormal/supernatural conclusions.

Quantum physics, for example. Stuff so small that the very act of looking at it changes it; therefore it can't be studied easily. Particles that rotate when a charge is applied; and so does the particle they're paired with, even when that one is some distance away and has no charge - no-one knows how this works (it must be true though, I read it in a Bill Bryson book).

Dogs and other animals have far more sensitive hearing, sense of smell etc than us; there are many documented cases of animals acting strangely before earthquakes, tsunamis and things like that... it's easy to see how people make the leap to them being able to see people that we couldn't, or whatever.

Now, here's an odd one... if thoughts, memories, etc are nothing more than electrical impulses in the brain, then isn't it possible that some people can pick up on these, the same way as an electrical meter will find cables in walls? I don't mean reading people thoughts and suchlike; just having an awareness of something going on - like when sometimes you feel like you know when someone's going to speak, or you seem to be in sync with someone more some days than others? Similarly, if you're desperate for something, isn't it possible that the areas of your brain generating these signals are overproducing and therefore someone sensitive to all this is going to pick up on it more easily? It doesn't mean they're in contact with the dead or anything, just that they can pick up on that faint cloud of static around you which no-one else even knows exists...

I'm not saying all this as a lead up to telling you all that I believe in ghosts or anything like that; and I'm certainly not telling you this based on any evidence or research; just a sort of open-minded curiosity (but not so open-minded that my brain will fall out)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:22, 2 replies)

Another Quija board. (bored)
My mother is pragmatic, crazy as a kid whose dib dab stick has run out but still has sherbet left, but generally of the ilk that paranormal things are for the mentally ill (or witches).

She told me that when she was 16 or so, she and her friends decided to do a quija board. I would love to set the scene, but I only have the basics. The board was cracked out, planchette or glass placed down. Lots of gobbledegook came through, then a message regarding a family friend who had the week prior committed suicide with a shotgun, this being the very late 50's/early 60's such a thing was not talked about.

I have tried to do a quija board, with not an iota of success. I do think there is an element of subliminal pushing pulling, but still it is slightly odd.

I do have to mention as an aside, the levitation trick, how really does that work?
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:09, 8 replies)

I quite like celebrating things using triangles of material tied together.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 14:00, 1 reply)

I enjoy holidaying in Massachusetts.
Boston makes me feel good.
(Vigilante Man weeps because you're stupid., Mon 17 Sep 2012, 13:57, Reply)

Cosmic interference
My band practices at a place in Derby called The Snug; it's a practice room downstairs and recording studio upstairs. Next door is Derby Gaol, site of many a hanging, incarceration, murder and general despair such as the famous Derby Ghost Walks.

One night, we were at The Snug, recording guitar parts for the forthcoming Skullfunk album. Present in the room were myself, the drummer and the bass player, as well as the future Mrs Kenny Martin & her daughter.

We were just about to record a take when we realised that my amp was picking up a radio signal. Not unheard of, although fairly unusual in this instance since I wasn't using a wireless system.
Gathering round my amp to listen and see if we could tell which radio station it was, we were decidedly chilled to hear what sounded like mediaeval monks chanting. Faintly at first, then it started getting louder... a quick check confirmed that it was indeed coming from my amp and not from some reenactment going on outside; then it stopped.

Spookiest of all, we'd started the recording ready for me to play the take, then heard the sound. Playing back the take, the monks weren't audible - all you could hear was us talking about it.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 13:56, 2 replies)

Things that go bump in the... early evening
Many moons ago, my great aunt and uncle lived in an old rectory, next to a graveyard in rural Dorset.

We would go down to see an unrelated aunt and uncle in Swanage, Dorset every summer (cheap holiday, y'see) and so would go and see the great-relatives at least once while we were down there.

The first time we saw them in this old rectory, they were giving us the grand tour (the place had 20+ bedrooms, it was a fecking mansion, really) and they happened to mention that the place was haunted.

Even at my tender age of 8 or 9, I saw through this lie and even said "there's no such thing as ghosts!"

My great uncle just smiled a sly smile and said "you wait until just after 5, then you might change your mind"

So they day progressed as normal, all the old people chatted about boring stuff and me and my brother played army amongst the garvestones.

At about 5, my great uncle appeared at the gate and called us in for tea. As we ran past him, he said "you'll hear the ghost soon"

About 20 minutes later, my great uncle said "I can feel the ghost coming, everyone be quiet!" and, lo and behold, the window shutters rattled as we sat with baited breath. Nothing big, just like someone had given them a gentle shove. And my great uncle said "Welcome, stranger"

My brother and I looked at each other with wide eyes, then legged it round the house, desperate to find any other signs of this haunting.

It was only because we wouldn't shut up about it in the car back to Swanage that my dad let the cat out of the bag - the "ghost" was caused by the sonic boom of Concorde over the channel. Disapointing.
(ScousersPet, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 13:45, Reply)

I enjoy covering turkeys in hot fat.
Basting makes me feel good.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 12:58, 9 replies)

Back in college
one of the professors made a comment that many strange phenomena- odd lights in graveyards, will-o-wisps and the like- were often the result of methane gas generated by things decomposing.

Therefore evil spirits are most likely methane.

And therefore I perform an exorcism every time I fart.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 17 Sep 2012, 12:45, 4 replies)

We never really learned a lot in that class....
This is not first-hand, but there you go...

Years ago, back in secondary school, my German-language teacher told the class a story from her past.

At 13 years old, she and her class were taken on a school trip, where they stayed in an old hotel/guesthouse - formerly an old, large farmhouse, or something similar. One morning the teachers and the owners quizzed her at breakfast to find out if she remembered any of the events of that night. She had apparently been sleepwalking and was found banging on a wall, downstairs whilst demanding to "let the children out".

She admitted she had little memory of this - only that she had experienced some bad dreams - but couldn't quite remember what they were.

A few years later she received word that the owners of the hotel had decided on renovating the property. Upon taking down some old plaster from some of the walls, they discovered an old door that had been blocked in by previous residents – she believed it was roughly where she had been found in the middle of that night. The doorway led down to a small basement room, which contained - the now very old - remains of two children...
( theoriginalsteve <this space intentionally left blank>, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 12:20, Reply)

One of the actors from Rocky Horror tricked me into taking a load of lumber that didn't belong to me.
Bostwick made me steal wood.
( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 12:05, Reply)

I occasionally like to inhale the aroma of a certain brand of adhesive.
Bostik makes me feel good.
( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 12:02, Reply)

I quite like popping balloons.
Bursting makes me feel good.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 11:25, 2 replies)

Whispering voices
Before I started University, I stayed with my sister and her husband for a week or so. The first night I was there, bedded down on the sofa, I became aware of voices whispering at the limit of hearing. I tried to ignore them, tell myself I was imagining them, but it was no use. So I decided to see if I could locate them.

After moving around the room and listening carefully, I triangulated them and realised that they were coming from the TV. With relief I jiggled the on/off knob, and decided that it hadn't been turned off properly. But no, I could still hear them. OK, time for the big guns: pull the plug out of the wall. Hah! Answer that!

Oh shit - I can still hear them! The TV set is possessed! I'm going to be bumraped by the rotting corpse of Bruce Forsythe!

I spent a long, tense night trying to block the voices out with a foam pillow that was about as thick as a sheet of paper. In the morning, I related the tale to my sister and her husband, and laughingly he explained that Brighton, being hilly, had had a very early form of cable TV, back in the 1970s, and being such a primitive and brute-force system it had enough power to drive the TV loudspeaker directly, even when it was switched off.

Arse.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 11:10, 1 reply)

I used to share a batchelor pad with a mate
One day we cleaned the place, and sat down in silence to enjoy a well-earned beer and cigarette.

Music suddenly started blasting from the kitchen, making us both jump. I went in to turn it off - the cassette had started playing. It had those heavy buttons that have to clunk into place.

I presume that it was a faulty connection with the wire or something.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 11:00, 1 reply)

Just unexplained
Like most poster here it seems, I'm going to start with the standard "I don't believe in all that ghosts / supernatural bollocks". In fact I'm a pretty hard-core skeptic, fan of James Randi and so on. So I present these merely as things I can't explain, and invite suggestions.

One day I got a call from my wife, rather freaked. She'd been closing the oven door, perfectly normally and without unusual violence, when the whole thing - which was entirely made of glass - had shattered and sprayed her with hot shards. OK, scary but nothing spooky there, presumably a flaw in the glass or somesuch.

The next day we're standing in the kitchen, relating this story to a friend. On the kitchen surface next to me, about half a metre away, is a large glass frying pan lid. Which chooses that moment to spontaneously shatter and spray glass shards everywhere. No-one was touching it, it wasn't hot and it the cooker was off.

A few days later, I get another call at work. She'd looked out of the window and realised that the garden fence was on fire. Luckily she'd spotted it while it was still small, and put it out. It was a sunny day, so I assumed that it was perhaps sunlight refracting through glass, but a thorough search of the area turned up nothing.

Just coincidence and bad luck, of course. But I can see how someone with a looser grasp on reality could be convinced that they were under attack from evil spirits!
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 10:50, 1 reply)

I love scary stuff...........
I’ve always loved a good ghost story. It’s a harmless genre and I love it dearly. As a kiddie, my favourite books were the spooky ones and I faithfully watched Night Stalker (the 1970s Darren McGavin one). We used to have séances at home around the kitchen table when I was a much younger Monkee girl (family night!) I’ve read every Stephen King book. I love scary ghosty/supernatural movies like Poltergeist, White Noise, The Manitou, The Entity etc. I love sitting on the couch in the dark and being scared shitless by ghosty stuff (and then waking up later that night and turning every light on, to create a safe passage to the loo). I don’t much like slasher films or programs like Ghost Whisperer or Paranormal Files or Most Haunted. I’m not a religious person but I do not begrudge a person their faith. (unless you are a fundamentalist/extremist/nutjob, then you can bugger right off and go and live on a deserted island somewhere and preach to the local wildlife).

When I saw what the QOTW was, I was like ‘goody, scary stuff, me likee’. But all I’m seeing is bullshit complaints about how they ‘don’t believe in that shit’ or ‘QOTW is shit’ etcetera, etcetera…….

The amount of vitriol that has spewed forth recently over the QOTW is disturbing. Are there that many angry people out there? Seriously, go and take a chill pill. If you don’t like what’s happening here, then piss off and leave the people who DO enjoy it alone. Just like the idiots who write into TV Guides and complain about television programs. Turn the bloody thing off! Go for a walk, read a book, make some sexytime with your significant other or failing that, yourself. I haven’t liked a few QOTWs but that doesn’t mean I’m going to berate the mods/contributors about it.
With all the negativity in the world at any given time, having a laugh, getting spooked or whatever, is very welcome. I enjoy it, but having to wade through the crap here gives me the irrits.

To keep on subject (for otherwise I will be told off most certainly) - yes, I have had a spiritual/paranormal experience. At the time I didn’t recognise it as such, as I wasn’t aware of what was happening, but when I was told that my Mother had died suddenly, then the happenings of the previous hour or so started to make sense. She had come back home to say goodbye. At a later time, that explanation sort of made it better (although I really do wish she hadn’t gone in the first place!). I don’t think she's hanging around or watching my every move, but it’s nice to think that sometimes when I hear a song or watch a movie she liked she's there with me. It’s called imagination and it gives me warm fuzzies. I’ve been with my father when he died of cancer, no bells or whistles, just a feeling of peace and love that seemed to encompass myself and my brothers and sisters who were all there too. Experienced UFOs as well. Not necessarily ET, but definitely UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECTS, and I wasn’t drunk or under the influence of MASSIVE DRUGS. No explanation, but makes for good story telling around the campfire. Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Lighten up peoples, and remember, never ever fall asleep with your foot hanging over the edge of the bed, you never know when a cold dead hand is going to reach up and grab hold of it………………………

Oh, and I don’t feed trolls. You’re such messy little things. So don’t bother.
(Monkee girl not a monkee, not a girl, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 7:56, 7 replies)

The best part
about Most Haunted....

www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uD0dPhr9cQ
(Swarve, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 5:34, 2 replies)

Sometimes in the morning when I am shaving,
I glace at the mirror and see my long gone dad staring back at me.
One of these times he's going to tell me I'm a disappointment.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Mon 17 Sep 2012, 1:27, Reply)

There's a perfectly rational explanation for all these ghost stories
Sometimes the perfectly rational explanation is that there is Damn Strange Stuff going on in this world, and no amount of saying you don't believe in it will make it go away.
(gordonjcp, Sun 16 Sep 2012, 23:56, 5 replies)

Last week I was walking past the Central Bank on Dame Street, and there were these punks standing there.
But the very next day I saw that Jonny Rotten on the telly, and he said that punk died back in December 1976.

There's probably a rational explanation, but still, you know, like, chilling and that.
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Sun 16 Sep 2012, 23:26, Reply)

Jeepers Creepers
So I started watching this on a rented DVD and (like most horror films) it's scary until they actually get to the blood and guts part, at which point it becomes a comedy.

The film has just reached the point where the two kids decide to investigate the mysterious pipe (into which The Creeper has been dumping oddly body-shaped packages) when I realise the deep infra-bass pounding I can feel isn't coming from the TV. It's real, and it's in the house. I can't watch any more.



It turned out to be the local primary school disco playing 2 Unlimited.
(rogerzilla, Sun 16 Sep 2012, 20:39, 2 replies)