When were you last really scared?
We'd been watching the Shining. We were staying in an old church building. In hindsight, taking the shortcut home after midnight, in the mist, through the old graveyard was a bad idea.
I'm not sure what started it, but suddenly all the hairs on my neck had gone up and I was crapping myself. It was almost as bad as when, after a few cups of coffee too many and buzzing on caffeine, I got freaked out by my own reflection in the toilets.
When were you last really scared?
( , Thu 22 Feb 2007, 15:43)
We'd been watching the Shining. We were staying in an old church building. In hindsight, taking the shortcut home after midnight, in the mist, through the old graveyard was a bad idea.
I'm not sure what started it, but suddenly all the hairs on my neck had gone up and I was crapping myself. It was almost as bad as when, after a few cups of coffee too many and buzzing on caffeine, I got freaked out by my own reflection in the toilets.
When were you last really scared?
( , Thu 22 Feb 2007, 15:43)
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4x school mates + parents out for evening + current fad =
A dark, stormy night and there we were, seated around a candle-lit kitchen table with a wine glass and a makeshift OUIJA/SPIRIT board.
'Are there any spirits abroad to-night?' - Y-E-S. (alright!)
'Will you identify yourself?' - Y-E-S. (gulp!) pause, J-I-M-I.
A discussion ensues...'What sort of shaggin' name is that?.' and, 'Just our bleedin' luck to get an illiterate ghost.' - Worldlywise me opines; 'Hang on, Jimi Hendrix just died recently', a short respectful silence falls...then we continue...
'Will you appear to us?' - Y-E-S. (More gulps and a couple of nervous farts.)
CRASH! - the back door bursts open and a neighbour bursts in...'Thank the fuckin' Christ for that, I thought the house was on fire - you young shaggin' eejits!'
Result; 2x filled underpants, 1x dead faint and a semi-catatonic vegetable - me - I could'nt move or speak for over an hour.
Have I meddled with the black arts since? - er, no.
( , Fri 23 Feb 2007, 9:57, Reply)
A dark, stormy night and there we were, seated around a candle-lit kitchen table with a wine glass and a makeshift OUIJA/SPIRIT board.
'Are there any spirits abroad to-night?' - Y-E-S. (alright!)
'Will you identify yourself?' - Y-E-S. (gulp!) pause, J-I-M-I.
A discussion ensues...'What sort of shaggin' name is that?.' and, 'Just our bleedin' luck to get an illiterate ghost.' - Worldlywise me opines; 'Hang on, Jimi Hendrix just died recently', a short respectful silence falls...then we continue...
'Will you appear to us?' - Y-E-S. (More gulps and a couple of nervous farts.)
CRASH! - the back door bursts open and a neighbour bursts in...'Thank the fuckin' Christ for that, I thought the house was on fire - you young shaggin' eejits!'
Result; 2x filled underpants, 1x dead faint and a semi-catatonic vegetable - me - I could'nt move or speak for over an hour.
Have I meddled with the black arts since? - er, no.
( , Fri 23 Feb 2007, 9:57, Reply)
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