b3ta.com user Katzilla
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» Pet Peeves

I'm not happy
About Big Brother either and I'm shocked that I've not seen many people mention it here. its not started yet but I can tell its going to come along soon.

those .5 second flashes of that eye in some new-designed techno thing makes me gasp in terror because I know its coming

Last year, after having been subjected to nothing but big brother talk and nothing but 24 hour big brother at friends houses, I decided to watch it so I could at least be involved in conversation without tearing my face off

it didn't work, I couldn't watch it. its just so insignificant, so unimportant.

I really, really, really don't care who said what about that guy who'se going out with that girl who can't hold her temper when she's talking to the bloke who won't stop cleaning up after the girl who won't clear up her tampons but insists on doing all the cooking so she's constantly bitching to that girl who can't keep her mouth shut and is always talking about everyone behind their backs with that gay guy who gets on the straight guys nerves.

I'm guessing that there are a few people here who would agree with me.
(Wed 7th May 2008, 12:17, More)

» Creepy!

The Grey Lady
During that period of limbo between graduating uni and getting my first proper job, I was forced to join the administrational workforce in order to scrape a few pennies together. I got myself a temp job in the university’s student funding office.

It was a pretty good job. I was free to search and apply for jobs all day (as long as I got my work done) and it was pretty fun trying to catch out the students who were trying to squeeze as much extra money out of us as possible – one had even gone to the trouble of scanning, and then photoshopping, their bank statement. Top marks for creativity, just bad luck that his application was dealt with by someone very well versed in photoshop.

Those of you who have attended Coventry University will possibly know where the student centre is (by the library) and that the Gulson hospital is directly opposite. Most of the hospital has now been demolished to make way for something or other; but before it was destroyed, it used to be used as storage space for the Student Centre.

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how awful hospitals are.

Even up-to-date, busy hospitals are pretty creepy. The Gulson hospital was one of those old-school, bare bones style places where the concept of anaesthetic would have been classed as a ‘new fangled medical advance’.

This hospital was empty.

The first time I heard about it was when the girls in the office were arguing over who was going to go over. No one wanted to go on their own and since I’m a bit of a hardcore horror freak I volunteered to accompany whoever needed to go.

We pushed open the double doors into a long corridor. There were a number of double doors set at intervals all the way up the corridor and I could see that one section of corridor was in complete, unnatural darkness. It could have been taken straight out of any generic horror movie.

Setting off at a trot, we made our way towards the next set of double doors and pushed through into the darkness. I looked behind and saw the words ‘Dental Ward’ written on the window. Ahead of us was a small staircase with no banister leading to a teeny pointless door – the size of the door just seemed even creepier – it was like a portal to hell.

Back out of the darkness and into another light section of corridor, we finally found the right place – an old treatment room next to a gurney and tray that had been left there as if the hospital had been evacuated in a zombie apocalypse. We got to work finding the files in the storeroom. It was ok in the store room but soon we had to leave and make the short but terrifying journey back outside.

As we made our way through the dark section and pushed the double doors, we heard a shuffling noise behind us. I looked at Nikki, she looked at me and we broke into a frantic run for the safe outdoors.

The hospital had an awful atmosphere; it was like you were being watched. For no physical reason at all, it was just the kind of place you couldn’t wait to get out of.

I only ever went back once more. I was feeling adventurous so I went alone.

This time the lights that worked were flickering in the first section. Joy.

I was determined to be a grownup about it so on I went through the flashing bit, then into the darkness. I turned and looked into one of the empty treatment rooms on my way – there were still bits of hospital equipment littered around which did not help to ease the asmosphere.
I finally reached the store room. The gurney was still sitting there begging me to question why it was still there.

I unlocked the store room and went ahead finding my files. Soon it was time to leave. I was congratulating myself on how well I’d fared in the haunted hospital on my own but my pride was to be short lived as I put the key in the door to lock the store room and turned.


It wouldn’t turn!

I threw all my weight against it and it wouldn’t go. I double checked the right key, took the key out and tried again it just wouldn’t turn. I was starting to get panicky now as all I wanted to do was leave, I felt like I needed to get out soon or else something bad would happen. After what felt like hours, I took a slow breath and – hallelujah – it turned, it clicked, it locked.

Now I needed to get out, but I was still determined to be brave. I strode through the dark section and back into the flickering bit. The last door was in sight, beyond that, there was freedom.

Turning back to close the door, I spotted something up the corridor. Next to the gurney by the store room where I had been standing minutes previously tussling with the lock there was something weird. It looked like a dust-cloud – but nothing could have created it. The hospital was old but it wasn’t dusty. The translucent cloud just hovered there in mid-air. I was transfixed for a moment until the flashing light switched off and I broke into a terrified scramble for the outside world.

I spoke to my colleagues after this who told me that the hospital is said to be haunted by a grey lady. Is that what I saw?
(Mon 11th Apr 2011, 14:46, More)

» The B3TA Confessional

I could have prevented the Bin-Cat Lady from committing crimes against kitties.
I saw the video, like most of you will have, through the B3ta Links twitter. Living in Coventry and housing 2 fluffy kittehs myself, I was seething. How could a monster like that exist, and why does she exist so close to me?!

At first I was scared that she'd do it again to different cats, or step up the cat-tormenting. I wanted her out.

All the time ignoring that strange niggling feeling that the woman in the video did look a little familiar. The name came out, 'Mary Bale' yep, definitely heard that name before but where?

Pushing the feelings aside and focussing once again on how awful she is, I hadn't realised the link between where the cat-attack had happened and where she lived. When the address came out, one of my old house mates emailed me to confirm


For over a year.

Mary Bale, the tormentor of fluffehs, terrorist mastermind against for the feline community is the nutbar lady from next door.

Which is strange because when we lived in that house, there were loads of cats around. Being students, we invited them all in and gave them silly names like 'Salami' and 'Vodka'. Perhaps we were serving as a safe-house for all those terrified moggies.

We all remember that woman very well. She was a total nutbar but always on the harmless, fun side of crazy. We could hear her laughing through the walls all hours of the day and night. She also used to sing. A lot. and go through numerous bottles of wine each week.

So, what's the confessional side to this crazy tale?

Had I known then that the harmless nutbag from next door would start torturing kittums, perhaps we could have put a stop to her madness before she crossed the line.

I apologise, pusses of the world, for letting the next-door nutbaggery continue.
(Fri 27th Aug 2010, 13:49, More)

» Phobias

Spider Wars
It was a night in late summer, the time of year when the little bastards come crawling out of the woodwork and take over the house.

I apologise for length, but a battle this epic needs to be told properly.

I was staying at my parent's house for some reason or other, and in my old, and relatively small bedroom.

Round 1

It began when I was sitting in bed, watching the TV (situated at the foot of my bed under some shelves) just generally getting ready to go to sleep. something black and BIG runs past my ear across the wall. I leap up screaming like a 6 year old. called by my screams, dad gets rid of it.

Spider - 0
Me - large dent to my dignity so also 0

Round 2

Settled down again, TV on, wall checked, under the bed checked. Sorted.
next to the TV, something catches my eye.
its dangling in mid air, swimming towards the TV and suspended from the shelves. you guessed it, another one. Smaller, and lacking in the element of surprise, I decide that I can get ridof it on my own, I am 21 after all. Cunningly, I decide that I am unable to touch it even with tissue as it is on a web and therefore in danger of falling onto the table below. next best thing, a can of impullse body spray. this stuff makes me cough, spider would be gassed and gone in a second. it would fall, but it would be dead!
10 second sustained spraying sends the spider plummeting, stiffly to the floor where, unfortunately I am unable tofind it. but at least its a dead spider and I can find it in the morning. its getting on to 1am at this point, and I really should sleep.

Spider - 0
Me - 1

Round 3

Turned off the light, feeling a little gassed myself from the spraying. the hairs on the back of my neck prick up. I turn on the light. there's another one of the little buggers on the ceiling. its at the opposite end of the room and I'm already weary from batle, so I decide that I will turn off the light and it can do what it likes and I will believe that it has gone. I'm 21, I can do mind over matter.

I can't do it

the light comes back on. but I can't find it, its not in the same corner! its in another corner, over where my TV is, at the foot of the bed, and its brought a friend. they sit, perfectly still facing me before one runs towards the head-corner of my room. when I say rin, I mean these buggers have probably been living in my room for a while, me not living there and all, and they have spun a web on the ceiling between all the little bumps in our very 90's plaster. so its half-running, half nearly falling, then the other one comes to join it and they start fighting. over my bed.
very slowly I decide its time to bring out the weapon I've used since I was a child. the feather duster on a stick. I run to get it from downstairs and when I return, I am standing precariously on my bed, poised with the duster ready to dab at the spiders and run to the window. I stand there. I'm still standing there. poised, gaining my courage. after at least 20 mins of staring at the spiders. I decide to stop thinking and do it. Brain disengaged, I dab them onto the duster and shake it out the window with enough gusto to break the duster and for it to fall onto the lawn below. Adrenaline surging, i think to myself, I'll get it in the morning and its time to sleep. job well donw, 4 spiders in a night, what a mad house!

Spiders - 0
Me - 2

Round 4

Not even turned off the light this time. Spider number 2 has rematerialised and is once again spinning his web at the bottom of my bed. the duster is gone. what other spray do I have? Hairspray! at least this will coat it in plastic so it will suffocate! I spray for another 10 seconds and it takes longer to go down this time, perhaps the impulse made it stronger. but it does go down. this time I search for it. but to no avail. I couldn't find it. Deciding I'd had enough, I go back to bed.

Spiders - 1 (for re-incarnation)
Me - 1 (for not killing it first time)

Round 5 (AKA the battle finale)

its 5am at this point and I'm lying in the dark when the hairs on my neck go up again and I know what's there before I turn the light on. I audibly whisper, "you have got to be kidding" as I turn on the light and see 2 more on the ceilling and my little webby friend back to spinning his web. my weapon is on the grass outside who knows if it is full of spiders still or not. I can't go to get it. aerosols don't seem to do anything to these fuckers so what's left?

I got angry

toilet roll in hand I stood on the bed again and crushed bastard number one in the paper. before running the the door and throwing the paper into the landing. bastard number 2 goes in the same way. Webby bastard gets a bit of respect for being so persistant but eventually gets smushed in a tissue and thrown out the door along with his web. by this stage I've already closed the window and put my dressing gown by the crease under the door so they can't get in.

I sleep, safe in my victory and no more spiders came back.

Although I won the battle, I can't help but think that the spiders wer the real victors. I didn't sleep at all that night, broke a feather duster, and lost a substantial chunk of dignity. I believe that I won the battle. but the little monsters win the war.

I also had to explain to my family in the morning why the shards of a feather duster were in the lawn and a load of tissues weer on the landing. they laughed. I was still shell shocked. luckily I left that day.

No Apologies for length. the story needed to be told
(Mon 14th Apr 2008, 11:31, More)

» Ouch!

You're a Star, Katherine, a Star!!
I've told this story many times before, but not on this board. It all starts when I was 14

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~wavy lines~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You see, most kids will have lost all their baby teeth and gained a full set of permanent grown-up pearly whites by the age of 14. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky. My top canine teeth never showed their faces.

You can now probably imagine the torment of a 14 year old girl in school, not particularly attractive or slim and with 2 great big toddler-style gaps where her teeth should be (this part should probably be in last week's QOTW)

Anyway, it was decided that I was to have a 'minor procedure' to cut the gum off the reluctant teeth and attach a brace to pull them down in a lengthy and rather painful process.

After several visits to the hospital with Mr 'I used to be a plastic surgeon but I want to give orthodontistry a stab' and his boss, Sir 'I've been an orthodontist for a million years but never worked out hat mouths are attached to people' the date was finally set, I was finally going to get my teeth.

I was told that I would be awake, they would numb it so I wouldn't feel a thing and I could bring my own music (score!) so off I trotted with my mum ready for the op.

It starts with 2 anaesthetic injections (on each side) and a scalpel cautiously poked into my gum to see if it was numb.

It was not.

que 2 more anaesthetic shots and another scalpel


Another 2 anaesthetics are administered, this time the needles go directly up the gap and deep into the gum. It hurt.

Still not numb.

After 12 injections each side they decide to just go ahead anyway. I'm told that if it's too much, I should stick out my hand and they'd stop immediately and give me a break.

Scalpels are brought out and my gums are dutifully shredded.

It’s still not numb. The nurse is beginning to wear out her new catchphrase "You're a Star, Katherine, You're a star!!" (Never mind the fact I introduced myself as Kat)

Now I've always been the kind of person to try and not let pain get to me. but this was a lot. not helped by the extra bubbly nurse screaming "You're a Star, Katherine, you're a star!!!!" at a louder and higher pitch each time, she was getting herself into some sort of frenzy. I wanted to kill her.

After what felt like hours of tugging, pulling, stretching and cutting, with the tears now pooling in my ears next to my CD player's ear buds I decide I need a break.

I stick out my hand.

The nurse holds on to it and says "You're a Star, Katherine You're a star!, you're a St-"

She couldn't finish the sentence because I kicked her. Hard.

I then bit the orthodontist.

They stopped.

I got my break, but I then had to endure the rough, soulless treatment of Mr 'I've been an orthodontist for a million years but never worked out hat mouths are attached to people' who proclaimed very loudly that they'd been doing the whole thing wrong and did it again.

After the ordeal, I had to wait for the head honcho orthodontist to come and check it out again before we could leave. All the while the anaesthetic is wearing off. The plan was to get some hard Solpadine taken before the anaesthetic wore off. Instead after an hour of waiting, he comes in (accompanied by the nurse who still insists I'm a star) looks roughly round my mouth and instructs my mother to take me home with a good dose of calpol.

You know the medicine for kids.

I could have kicked him again.

Sorry for the longs.
(Mon 2nd Aug 2010, 14:02, More)
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