[To us, it is The Beast]
We have a poltergeist.
We knew things were weird when doors that we would normally have to forcibly jerk open (sticky, cheap paint) would come open by themselves while we were just sitting nearby.
And then when Phil was upstairs while I was at work one night, he heard dishes rattling downstairs in the kitchen. He came downstairs and looked around, only to find Gonzo walking around on the kitchen counter and stove. This wouldn't be weird if Gonzo was a cat, but he's a ferret, and ferrets can't jump onto the counters here or anywhere. We thought he might have somehow gotten on top of the lamp beside the couch in the living room and jumped onto the bar and into the kitchen, but there was crap all over the bar, which is higher than the counter, and nothing was knocked over. Ferrets are notoriously clumsy and Gonzo would have definitely knocked something off. And there's no way he could have balanced his big lanky body on the lampshade and jumped up onto the bar. So when Phil saw him on the counter, he said he felt a little spooked because he knew there was no way Gonzo could have gotten up there by himself. No way.
So tonight, I'm painting in the spare room, and I keep hearing someone yell "Oh shit!" really loudly, like they're downstairs. I thought it might have been Phil playing his guitar and getting frustrated, but I came down and asked and he said he'd heard and said nothing. It was probably a neighbor, but I couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with what happened the day we moved in.
As we were walking around the apartment with Shane, the leasing consultant, noting problems, Phil turned on the garbage disposal, and it issued a sickly groan as if something was caught in it. He looked down the drain and pulled out a red, mangled rag. It looked like it was blood-soaked. Shane snatched it and laughed nervously. "I'll take care of that."
I wonder if the poor schmuck whose rag that was ever screamed "Oh shit!" during his match with the evil garbage disposal. Anyway, now I'm totally creeped out and am stopping this nonsense right here.
+++
Lemony Snicket was pretty good. It made me pine for a career as a set designer. The end credit animation was awesome. I think they could have milked five movies out of the series instead of cramming three books into one film.
+++
Phil's mom, grandmother, and niece visited briefly today. Rylee is growing like crazy and she's so freaking cute. She spits up a lot, though. It's funny to watch babies try to control their limbs. They just kick and punch to no avail. Sort of like Democrats.
We have a poltergeist.
We knew things were weird when doors that we would normally have to forcibly jerk open (sticky, cheap paint) would come open by themselves while we were just sitting nearby.
And then when Phil was upstairs while I was at work one night, he heard dishes rattling downstairs in the kitchen. He came downstairs and looked around, only to find Gonzo walking around on the kitchen counter and stove. This wouldn't be weird if Gonzo was a cat, but he's a ferret, and ferrets can't jump onto the counters here or anywhere. We thought he might have somehow gotten on top of the lamp beside the couch in the living room and jumped onto the bar and into the kitchen, but there was crap all over the bar, which is higher than the counter, and nothing was knocked over. Ferrets are notoriously clumsy and Gonzo would have definitely knocked something off. And there's no way he could have balanced his big lanky body on the lampshade and jumped up onto the bar. So when Phil saw him on the counter, he said he felt a little spooked because he knew there was no way Gonzo could have gotten up there by himself. No way.
So tonight, I'm painting in the spare room, and I keep hearing someone yell "Oh shit!" really loudly, like they're downstairs. I thought it might have been Phil playing his guitar and getting frustrated, but I came down and asked and he said he'd heard and said nothing. It was probably a neighbor, but I couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with what happened the day we moved in.
As we were walking around the apartment with Shane, the leasing consultant, noting problems, Phil turned on the garbage disposal, and it issued a sickly groan as if something was caught in it. He looked down the drain and pulled out a red, mangled rag. It looked like it was blood-soaked. Shane snatched it and laughed nervously. "I'll take care of that."
I wonder if the poor schmuck whose rag that was ever screamed "Oh shit!" during his match with the evil garbage disposal. Anyway, now I'm totally creeped out and am stopping this nonsense right here.
+++
Lemony Snicket was pretty good. It made me pine for a career as a set designer. The end credit animation was awesome. I think they could have milked five movies out of the series instead of cramming three books into one film.
+++
Phil's mom, grandmother, and niece visited briefly today. Rylee is growing like crazy and she's so freaking cute. She spits up a lot, though. It's funny to watch babies try to control their limbs. They just kick and punch to no avail. Sort of like Democrats.
2 Comments:
Oh, man that's freaky. I'm never spending the night ever again.
Heh heh. And to think all those times we heard the floor creak above us, we thought it was the people next door.
Post a Comment
<< Home